The Mehrauli Memoirs Part 5: Jahaz Mahal

Read Part 4: On the Jahaz Mahal Way by clicking here 

 

The name of the structure originates from the fact that it was built near a reservoir, in which its reflection looks like a ship. Here I was attacked by a kite (the bird).

Like the Mandi Masjid, I spotted a small gate with a gap. To the side of the structure was a wide open space with a bigger gate, so I went there. But this was a playground, or more accurately, a rummy circle, which was separated from the heritage structure both physically and temporally. There was a wide ditch around Jahaz Mahal, a pre-emptive defence against the soon-to-be-coming encroachments. I went back outside and took the smaller gate.

Built as a sarai, an inn for travellers, the structure has three sides intact, one of which is a gate. All of them have beautiful chhatris on the roof. I went through the gate. It was a small building, whereas I was actually expecting a palace, a mahal. Recessed arches and latticed windows – the usual, nothing special. Two young boys were posing and busy clicking pictures. Good for them. 

After roaming around a bit, I followed the boys to the roof. The steps were steep, broken, and without railing or support. Plus one of my hands was occupied by the water bottle which I should have kept on the ground floor itself, in hindsight. The chhatris, each supported by a different number of pillars, still looked beautiful – decked up brides in full dresses, now cobwebbed, dusty and in tears, still waiting for the baraat, in hopes that the lost glory of a bygone era could return. The blue tiles – jewels that refused to lose their sheen. I completed the U-shaped circuit.

From one side I could see the reservoir – now green and choked with algae. Hauz Shamsi was dug by Iltutmish. Somewhere in the reservoir is one more canopy, sheltering an imprint of the hoof of the Prophet’s horse. Some voluntary restoration work was seen on the roof – a few pillars, and support for the arches. I had seen similar work at Farah Bagh in Ahmednagar and recognized it immediately.

While returning towards the stairs, I felt something hit my head and looked up to see a kite settling on a spire, eyeing me. I blinked first and ran for cover. I told the kids, who did not believe me until the kite charged at them. They then skidded down the deadly steps. I grabbed my bottle and followed them. I did not fall.

I exited Jahaz Mahal. It was as if the mahal had called the kite to protect itself like an immune response. This part of history did not like pathogens scampering through it. Though the structure still remains an important part of the Phoolon Ki Sair Festival which happens in Mehrauli with even an arts festival happening on its premises. 

I took one last look and opened Maps to find my next destination. A place that would welcome All That Breathes, and not just kites.

Then I provided rest to the weary,
Now I am broken, in ruins.
Now, let me rest,
for I am no more a traveller; but a witness of time.

Read Part 6: Where is Zafar? by clicking here.