Charminar. A new movie called Ricky Bahl reminded me of the Charminar. I remember my dear IBS Hyderabad friends did not want to go to that part of Hyderabad, and were so surprised by my interest in the place. I craved the old city, the lived history, the rich culture, and the monument that withstood so much.
When I was in school in India, we would get a sheet called, “Monuments of India” from the nearby stationery store called Bittoo’s (wonder if it is still there). That’s what I knew of the Charminar. We used to use that sheet of paper to merely cut out photos of these monuments and stick them on posterboards (known as charts in India).
Who knew I would actually cover some of these monuments in my life? And that I would remember my childhood interest in such monuments enough to enthusiastically pursue it despite peer resistance! I got to visit the Charminar with my best friend from school time, Akanksha, a.k.a. Aku, and her graduate school friends.
I must say that at first I, too, was a bit disappointed in seeing the crowded dirty streets and the stuffed in gate-like Charminar after a long and stuffed rickshaw ride. It was only a matter of getting closer to the minar that I noticed the life around it. This was no longer the time of the mughals, but a bustling marketplace where pearls and lakh jewelry, renowned from ancient times, was being sold at extremely high prices, which required for the tourists to negotiate at length.
The ticket was a minimal cost of Rs. 5/-. I dreaded that it may not have been worth it to come here after all, if the Indian tourism industry had also priced it so low. I realized now that I was at the Charminar, I had no idea what it was all about. I climbed the narrow stairs of the Minar, hoping that my friends will be pleasantly surprised and amazed by the history of their country.
As soon as I climbed, I felt the breeze of culture seep in, and immediately knew I loved this monument. I had an inexplicable excitement on witnessing something legendary, something that has outlived so many generations. I saw my first view from the Charminar from a big balcony/window. The view of the autorikshaws lined up along with the vegetable sellers, with women walking around in burkhas, and men in the muslim hats (what are they called?). It was breathtaking – to view India from this angle – to have been to different worlds – and to then return to India and understand the photos seen in the National Geographic or tourism books on India that lure tourists to this fascinating country of beautiful people and so many colors.
I moved to the next view from the charminar, which led to another monument altogether. The security guard explained that there was a surang, or underground pathway from a palace to the Charminar. The third window is what completed my view of the Charminar. It explained to me the one thing I wanted to remember about the Charminar – it was the one minaret which showed you the entire city of Hyderabad, from all four directions. Each balcony/window faced the four main roads that led into the city. The city faced the Charminar, and these wide windows of the Minar allowed for the city’s beauty to pour in so that generations to come could behold this novel-like sight.
The third door also tempted the visitor by allowing a partial view of a beautiful mosque, the Jama Masjid of Hyderabad. I saw the serene water and the birds from the balcony, and wished to take darshan (yes, I’m still Hindu), but realized the shortage of time and anticipated my friends’ disinterest, along with the need to have dressed more appropriately for the mosque. I captured the scene in my memory, and imagined my presence inside that mosque; I imagined the energies that I could feel from up above being closer and stronger while in the mosque. And in this manner, I took darshan.
I saw the entire city of Hyderabad with only Rs. 5. I realized that pricing is merely a reflection of people’s value of the place. For me, it was worth much more. I needed to be there; I imagined history and imagined what may have transpired to lead to the current year of 2011. I saw the city from the eyes of this Minar, who saw it all. I am not sure exactly what I learned, but I know I felt alive. Perhaps it was knowing that so much life had happened as the monument stood witness. It made me appreciate my life, my history – so much life that generally happens! Something within us stands witness to our own life. It made me realize that from time to time, I want to encapsulate all the experiences of my life, and view them from an internal Charminar – the Charminar that sees people, times, and changes, and stands resiliently in its own beauty amongst all the hustle bustle, growing older and maturing with life.
Returning to the original window, I chatted and took photos with the locals and their kids, who smiled beautifully with their surma-ladden eyes, as is common among Muslim children. They reminded me that they are the future, and I shall be past. I lay down history for them.
