Mahmudabad: Part 2

Even though Mahmudabad is a small town, the noises of the occasional passing car are themselves quite muted inside the compound of the Qila. A large mango orchard covers one side, while high walls rise up all around, making the Qila apart from the outside world. There is an unseen war at play here, and it is not modernity with antiquity within the Qila. No, these elements work with each other here, modernity having seeped in through the cracks in the walls (as it does everywhere). The tensions exist between inside and outside, between the world of acceptance and all-embracing culture, and the world of religious fanaticism and the cults that exist outside, just beyond the protective bricks, placed over one another, plastered with materials that are hardly used today.

One of these differences is very obvious. The town is not very prosperous, but the Qila shows signs of past grandeur. The opulence of a life that has faded away is still visible in the number of people who exist just to service the estate and work for the Raja and his family. The town on the other hand, is small and congested. But while our bus passed the streets on the way to Bilehra, i noticed a lot of small shops running on solar power, something that is rare even in larger cities. While the Qila holds on to the past and moves slowly forward, the town on the whole, not too opulent, makes a spring into the future.

Looking out from the Qila to the town

The first day that we were there, four of us had taken a walk in the afternoon. Stepping out of the quiet of the fort, we were surprised by the relative silence in the city too. On the main road, we noticed that a lot of shops were closed. Our queries would be answered soon enough. In the meantime, looking for a shop, one of those with me asked a man on a bike where we could find one that was open. He volunteered to take us there, and we navigated streets that narrowed down to reach a small shop that was open. Having purchased their aerated drinks we returned to the Qila, to look up why the town was practically under lockdown.

The Qila of Bilhera is a short distance away. The ceremonies we were to witness were to be conducted there. Earlier in the day, we had been taken around the Masjids of Mahmudabad, built in the 19th century, modelled on the mosques at Iraq that lie in the regions of Karbala, and built to scale. Mahmudabad Qila hosts many Majilis' (meetings) in the Imambara, and the region around it, especially these mosques, play an important part in the Muharram proceedings.

Muharram involves the construction of taziyas, miniature replicas of the tomb of Hussain, that are carried around, and laid to rest on the final day of the month. Each day of the month has its own significance, and a ceremony attached to that day.There was even a Taziya graveyard where the taziyas were buried at the end of the month. As I'd mentioned earlier, religious harmony is a part of the culture of Mahmudabad.  However, we would see signs of religious tension that day.

Bilehra is a fort that pre-dates the current Mahmudabad fortress, and was the original seat of power for Mahmudabad. Built over a razed Bhil fort (from where it gets its name), it is now also in a state of slow decay, yet holding on for all its worth. We met the Raja inside the building. Outside, the crowd had begun to grow, and the music had begun to play. The Raja was a little nervous, but not on account of the ceremony. There had apparently been a greater mobilisation of Hindus that day.

Part of the reason for this mobilisation was to do with the reason for the shutdown the previous day: a local politician, who happened to be building a temple to Nathuram Godse, had been killed in Lucknow. The crowds were milling around to pay their respects, He was from around Mahmudabad. The other part was the fact that Hindu groups mobilizing in the region had been on the rise for the last few years, especially around Muharram, but the Raja told us that it had never been this large. He feared that with the killing, a communal clash was quite possible that day. But the show must go on. And so he strapped his sword onto his belt, and stepped out to greet the crowds that had grown around the courtyard. The procession soon began, with the taziya made at Bilehra making stops at the mosques around the property. We followed it too. Interestingly, while we had been told to stick to traditional clothing and to cover our heads, it was only the women who were required to do so, while clothing among the crowds had no schema at all.
After that the Taziya left to pass through the town. Soon after it had left the gates and gone a little way, the Raja came back and joined us for lunch. After lunch we returned to Mahmudabad, and left early the next morning.

What is the role of royalty in our times? Does the Raja still wield any power at all?
Royalty is definitely, in the larger picture, defunct. There are only a handful of powerful rulers who are monarchs left in the world. The world of the royalty in India is one that we see as coming to an end with independence, but that isn't so. Princes and Zamindars did not lose their power and land overnight, it was a slow and deliberate process. Until the 1960s, most royal families still had large holdings and much wealth, that was taken away with the land ceiling act and the abolition of privy purses during Indira Gandhi's time. Yet this did not do away with the institution of royalty altogether. They still exist, people like the Raja of Mahmudabad, or the Arcot Nawab, or the Raja of Rajpipla (a very interesting personality, a strong supporter of the LGBTQIA+ community in India) who, in their own way, due to the institutionalisation of their existence, continue to have meaning for the people, if only ceremonial and titular. The people definitely respected the Raja of Mahmudabad, and he was a significant part of the proceedings. But he had no power over their lives, or any political power in himself. The royalty in India command respect and attention and continue to be quite wealthy on the whole. Yet their relevance matters on what they do - just like everyone else - but also on what their ancestors did. The Raja of Mahmudabad's family is not only ceremonial; they are also politically involved (the Raja is an ex-MLA from Congress, and Ali Khan, his son, a current member of the Samajwadi party); they frequently organise distribution of food, especially during religious festivals; they practice religious harmony; they are well read; and they make sure to remain connected to the people. All these points ensure that the Raja remains relevant and respected, at least in the areas close by.

As we left Mahmudabad the next morning, we were reunited with the world we were used to. Everything went on as it always had. When we got back to Ashoka, we were immediately returned to the lives we were used to. Life went on. As it did in Mahmudabad as well. Over time, the place will change, as it has done for so many centuries. As everything does. But for now, it remains an island in a sea of discontent that is UP.

A replica mosque in Mahmudabad of one of the mosques at Karbala 

Read more about the Battle of Karbala here where Hussain was martyred.
Read more about the murder here
More on the Raja of Rajpipla here

Mahmudabad: Part 1

My first trip to the Eastern part of the state of Uttar Pradesh not only took me a few hundred kilometers away from familiar territory but also involved transporting me back a hundred years.

A quick weekend trip to Mahmudabad through Ashoka had me in for a weekend of rich food, halls that rang with a aura long-dead elsewhere, and experiencing a lifestyle that, for the most part, had died with the British.

The Qila of Mahmudabad, where we would be staying, is situated in the center of the town. The buildings and erstwhile fortifications are surrounded by a stream on one side over which runs a road. The metal gates are wide, but the bus we were in just about squeezed through. We were greeted by an open square facing an enormous doorway with two large fishes embossed on them. The symbols of Awadh. The decorations from the mid 19th century, reminiscent of the state of Awadh, make one realise instantly that everything within that imposing gateway was not what you'd expect to see in modern-day Uttar Pradesh. And indeed, as I stood on the steps of the Imambara, with the side of the main building on one side and the Zenana on the other, (Zenana not a word one hears commonly nowadays) with a large courtyard in front, the town hidden from sight, past midnight on the night before our departure, I thought back on the two days we'd spent there, and noted the air of aristocracy in the silence and the bustle, the ritualism that I'd seen earlier that day at Bilhera (and just a short while back behind where id been standing as well) or the knowledge, both long gone as well as solidly existent, in the books of the library, and the mind of the occupants of the Qila, that told you that this space was one you would be hard-pressed to find similar, elsewhere.

The Imambara and the Zenana

As soon as you enter the main Darwaza, you see a circular park-like structure with an outdated cannon in it, and a lamppost. The road goes around this little pocket and takes you to the main building - the Mukeem Manzil. Through a narrow corridor with rooms leading off it on all sides, one arrives at an open courtyard. The main Imambara of the Qila is up the stairs to one side of the courtyard, with the Zenana adjascent to it.

The Qila follows strict separation of genders: men are forbidden from entering the Zenana unless their close family reside there. The men on this trip were given mattresses in a large room inside the building on the first floor to sleep on.

The parts of the Qila that we frequented during our stay were on the first floor - The dining hall, and the rooms. The kitchen and the Raja's quarters were also situated here. The meals were mostly standard: Bread, eggs, an aloo tikki item, jam, butter and fruits for breakfast; mutton biriyani, galoti kababs, salad, roti and naan for lunch and dinner. This was what we had to eat for both days that we were there. But this is no way meant that the food became repetitive. Given a choice, (and assuming that weight gain was an imaginary concept) I could eat this food all my life.

The region of Mahmudabad is unique not just because of the living history of the Qila: it is also the fact that it is a Shi'a region. Most regions in our country that are Muslim majority are Sunni. However, Mahmudabad is unique for having a large Shi'a population and this has to do with its history, The rulers of the kingdom of Awadh were Shi'a, from Safdarjung in the mid-18th century, down to Wajid Ali Shah, who was deposed in 1856, a hundred years later, hailing from Persia. The Rajas of Mahmudabad were a vassal state, first to the Mughals, and later to the rulers of Awadh. In the dining room of the Mahmudabad 'Mukeem Manzil', the portraits of the Awadh rulers hang above the portraits of the rulers of Mahmudabad, looking down at the diners in dignified splendour.
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We met the Raja that evening at dinner. He was someone who could speak about almost anything and everything, and was happy to as well. He regaled us with stories all that evening and each second spent with him was a learning experience. The Raja occupies a large ceremonial role in the local Moharram remembrances. Muharram commemorates the martyrdom of Mohammad's grandson, Hussain, who was killed in battle at Karbala (presently in Iraq) , and it is a ritual observed every year. What makes it unique in Mahmudabad is that the pall bearers are Dalits, and Hindus regularly participate in the festivals. Religious unity has been promoted by the Rajas of Mahmudabad, even after they lost their political status, one evidence being the usage of Raja, over Nawab or Shah. The Raja told us of how in his childhood, on the night of Muharram is not a celebration, but meant to make those present feel the grief of Hassan's death every year. And this is why we were there that weekend. To witness one of the rituals of Muharram at the Qila of Bilhera.

(To Be Continued)

Fading patterns on the walls

The open courtyard on the first floor. 

To read more about Sunnism and Shi'ism, as written about by Professor Ali Khan Mahmudabad: click here

Read more about the Raja of Mahmudabad and his tussle with the government over their properties here

A video of one of the Muharram ceremonies at the Qila. Click here

A small video on Muharram celebrations at Mahmudabad. Click here

Mahmudabad as seen from the road approaching it