My first encounter with this palatial fortress came, when I was still in my school and had little knowledge about medieval Indian history and architecture. Those days can hardly be forgotten; the exams had just finished off and we were on out way to my maternal uncle’s home at Thakurnagar. That had become a routine after the exams every year; we would pack all stuffs that could make the travel less bore and more enjoyable – khatte chawal, poori, subzi, some chacha chaudhary comics, “Sportstar,” Ludo…… and what not.Thakurnagar is a village, not as pure and pristine as other villages in West Bengal. “Mokarshal” is the perfect word in Bengali to describe it; don’t how it would sound in the pervasive English language. People here, in majority still earns its bread by small-scale farming, fishing and other allied ways. Some shopkeepers and money launders have made the market area quite busy and active. In the last few years, the florist market has developed quite a lot, and pours in fresh garden picked indigenous flowers to the markets at Kolkata. The villagers now have a latest passion – to go to some gulf country and make quick money.
The only option we had to reach Howrah directly from Gwalior was Chambal Express, courtesy Late Shrimant Madhavrao Scindia. “Chambal Express” would drop us at Howrah and from there we would take a local electric train to Thakurnagar. We boarded the train at 06 00 hrs. in the morning. The fight for the window seat started inevitably but because of the vacant seats nearby, it ended prematurely without any further conflict. Soon after as the train whizzed passed the concrete complexes of Gwalior, the rough and dusty Bundelkhandi terrain made its first entry. After Sithouli and many other small halts, we lost the charm in the otherwise dull and dry scenery outside.
“Waah ki sundor killa ta!” didi shouted. Yes! It did looked like a fort, quite imposing, perched atop a nearby hill. It dominated the entire skyline for sure; the blue glazed tiles, very much like the one used at Gwalior Fort, can still be spotted. Although there was a blackish layer over the stones and mortar coverings. As the train moved past the fortress, we kept on staring it. It remained in the picture frame for a few minutes but left an indelible mark on our minds. We had no idea – who build it? When? and why?
Year 1999 was about to complete and Bose jethu, our tour planner was busy looking for some nearby excursion for the New Year Celebrations. He opted for Orchha. At that time I had no idea where Orchha is? And why are we going to such a less known place? Just because Datia was on the way, it was decided to take the first halt – breakfast halt at Datia. Till that time we had no idea that we are actually going to visit the same majestic fortress again.
My second visit to Datia can be considered to be a detailed one. After having traveled for around 50 minutes from Gwalior, we reached Datia. The atmosphere was perfect to move around, with the diminishing morning fog and clear blue sky. Just as we entered Datia, the same fortress again came back, looming large on the skyline. Very few of the group were actually interested in exploring the dark quarters of this medieval marvel. But, who could have stopped my gushing adrenaline to chase the towering Datia Mahal – that’s how I knew it for my first three visits. I was also quite excited to capture its beauty with my newly acquired auto focus camera.
Climbed up the stairs hurriedly and found myself at the grand entrance of the Datia Mahal. The miniature drawings could be spotted on the main gate itself. But, I along with Hirok were more interested in tracing the dark corners and the making the way for others rather than the architectural aspects and design patterns. The darkness was complete, and the eyes could hardly see where the stairs are heading. There were staircases on either side of the main entrance.
After some clueless wandering we reached the third floor. Light was peeping into the corridors through the intricately carved sandstone Jaalis. We were the leaders; the other interested lot followed us, while some decided not to waste any calories on climbing an old and abandoned palace. Excitement was high and Observation null – that’s how the whole thing can be explained. We were trying to venture each and every accessible chamber that one served as mahals for the royals. While I was still clicking at the third floor, dad had already reached the fifth. After having moved around the whole complex, we decide to have our breakfast and move ahead for Orchha. Though this visit of mine gave me an insight into the Datia Mahal, but what I saw was much less than what it had to offer.
I had just come back from Farakka – a brief nightmarish stay of four months in my native state. Had no assigned work at office, no place to sit, no idea of future posting and a total disillusioned situation at work. NTPC Electric Supply has just been founded, and we had the leisure time to understand and take over the dirty business of Electricity Distribution. Political maneuvers by Madam Mayawati and the subsequent toppling of her government made the quiz business much more serious. Dad had some work at Gwalior; Mom was also going with him; I also decided to accompany them. And came my third encounter with the Datia Mahal – still Datia Mahal.
Suranjan had come back to Gwalior from Rewa after completing his degree and Shailendra was also camping at Gwalior while preparing for CAT. As soon I reached there, old stories of Padhawali and Batesar resurfaced. While chatting on Suranjan’s rooftop, we decided to do something adventurous again. Suranjan was on his marks, but Shailendra was a bit defiant. But, it is always easy to convince old friends even if are wrong - that’s the spirit of Friendship. And we knew we are on the right track.
We decided to unexplore the barren patches of Bundelkhand in the scorching summer of April’03. “Chambal Express” again came handy; planned to club Datia and Jhansi in a day trip. Early morning mobile alarm woke me up. Though I was having a loose motion the previous day and had taken curd rice only as a precautionary measure, I decided to carry on the pre-chalked schedule. Took a tablet, got dressed up in a blue wrangler jeans and white kurta, stalked some packets of edibles, glucose in particular, loaded the camera and marched on.
Took the tickets and some cigarettes, whereas Suranjan decided to use his fake PH certificate to earn him a free travel and half fare for his companion – that is apna Shailendra. The same train, nearly same season, same landscape, and the same silent fortress of Datia only variable being the time. But, this time there’s no escape; we were moving closer to have a re-look into the Datia Mahal. Instead of dropping at Datia, we moved forward to the more popular Jhansi. While Suranjan and Shailendra had their plate of Dahi Jalebi near Minerva Cinema, I abstained. Having seeing off Jhansi fort and having only glucose since morning, we moved forward to Datia.
The journey in fact was a very special one. Walked for a while to find some means of travel to Datia; at last some desi Trekker – packed to the extent possible came to the rescue. The driver confirmed twice before starting his poorly maintained vehicle, whether every possible seat has been taken over. Not satisfied even then, he waived off to local commuters, to find any one who wishes to take a position at the rear deck. This practice has been quite prevalent in Gwalior also where people just hang on the Tempo rear, while enjoying an open-air travel at concessional prices, sometime paying not at all. Just one of the many shades of my mysterious motherland.
We reached Datia safely, surely and timely. Had some mousambi juice at a juice shop, took some cold drinks, chips packet and moved straightway to our destination – Datia Mahal. Just as we were entering the gate, a man enquired, “where are you going?” this was something strange as during my earlier visits nothing such happened. We told them that we have come from Gwalior and just want to see the Mahal. “Show me your bag? Do you people have any cameras? Photography is strictly prohibited.” I was quite puzzled at his behavior; “what has happened here since my last visit that this amount of restrictions have come into place?” I asked myself. But, I was not in a mood to give up. I told him about the rules that are being followed at all ASI monuments, and Datia is certainly not an exception. He clarified that it is state government protected monument and there are different set of rules framed by the state government. I put forward the example of Orchha before him, which is a state protected monument.
Gradually he not only softened his stand but also came with us and showed us the usually locked chambers, while I kept on clicking freely. India – strange places and stranger people. Later during our guided walk with Vijayan – the stubborn caretaker, we came to know that he belongs to south India and not quite comfortable with working in a place like Datia. No idli, sambhar, dosa, vada and more importantly no respect for law among the masses. The reason why he behaved in an erratic manner earlier became clearer to me. Adding to his frustration was the immense dry heat, and hardly any visitors to talk with. All alone in the royal quarters of Raja Bir Singh Deo.
Bir Singh Deo was an errant dacoit who rebelled against his own father, the ruler of Orchha and helped Jehangir, then an ordinary man in murdering Abul Fazl. Abul Fazl was among the navratnas that once adorned the Mughal Court. But, he was not in favour of Jehangir becoming the next Mughal Emperor. When the mighty Akbar was in his last ailing days, he called upon Abul Fazl to decide about his heir apparent. Apprehending the fallout of Abul Fazl reaching Delhi and conspiring against him, Jehangir asked for the services of the rebellious dacoit of Bundelkhand – Bir Singh Deo.
While Abul Fazl was camping near Atri, Bir Singh Deo struck accurately. With no other promising options, Akbar named Jehangir in his dieing moments. Becoming the master of the vast extended Mughal Empire and succeeding the great Akbar meant that Jehangir could actually relax and enjoy his years as emperor, which he aptly did. The services of Bir Singh Deo were recognized with the Kingdom of Buldelkhand as a prize. Now Bir Singh Deo was no more a dacoit rather he was the king. Infrastructural activities took centrestage. New palatial Complexes, small but strategic forts sprang up in a rapid pace in the whole of Buldelkhand. Datia Mahal came up during this same period with unique architectural fusion of Mughal and Rajput styles.
This Bundela masterpiece has 7 stories, 441 rooms, and 20 courtyards. It took about eight years for the local craftsmen to finish off this mammoth task. Sandstone was used primarily however at some places lime mortar has also been used. The porcelain tiles can still be seen, while the murals inside private chamber, had retained their original shiny and rich texture. What is unique about the architecture is the use of bridges on all four sides of the central tower that connect it with the rest of the complex. While in the third floor a wall with arched opening on both sides encloses the bridge, a colonnade of sandstone pillars guides you into the central tower along the bridge in the fourth floor. On the fifth, there’s an open walkway, with about a feet height sandstone slabs on the sides.
One more thing was particularly eye catching – the use of different colours for different type of stone blocks. The exteriors of central tower uses two contrasting shades of sandstone to made a visual impact. Ambulatory walkways around the central tower that extend over the supporting walls are beautifully supported with carved triangular slabs. Slanted lintels are also put in place in the same manner. The ceiling of the private room in the central tower has been beautifully decorated with some simple and symmetric stone in-laid patterns. After some frantic hovering here and there, Vijayan took us to the locked apartment where Bir Singh Deo had spent some of his days. It was quite normal, except some terrific aerial views and some well-preserved paintings. Took some photographs and moved ahead.
While Vijayan decided to take a leave with a fee of Rs. 50/- for showing us around, we decided to spend some time in the Mahal. Took refuge to a chhatri on the fourth floor and sat down for some rest and puffs of smoke. There was a sense of achievement, and satisfaction. The train mainline, between Delhi and Chennai can be spotted at a distance just on the other side of the palace encircling lake. We were all alone in the palace, looking over the whole Datia like a King. Enjoyed the chips and fizzy bottled soft drink and started for a photographic travail before calling it a day.
Not a single corner was left untouched on the third and fourth floor. Tried even to climb up the Chhtaris, but with no success. Handed the camera to Suranjan to capture what I might have missed. And he did a great job with the camera. By now the need for some solid foodstuff has already started to divert the mind. How long a person can survive with a glass of mousambi juice and some chips? Decided to pack the bags and head directly to some Samosa Wallah.
Coming down the stairs, had a final look at the medieval Mahal, with a hearty desire to come back again. Met Vijayan at the entrance gate and took the local busy and narrow lanes to the Datia market. The whole market area was full with dust and noise. At last we landed at a “hot and not so happening” food outlet on the main road – brainchild of an enterprising Sardar, the only mistake being the site selection. People in Datia hardly eat noodles, and pizzas and burgers don’t make Buldelkhandi mouth water. But, we had no problems with the vegetable noodle that the menu offered. Tempted by the howling noises from his stomach, Suranjan ordered a full plate, while Shailendra and I decided in favour of a half. And as thought of, while we had already finished off our plates, Suranjan was pleading us to share some of his own. Took an auto that dropped us at Datia Station, purchased the tickets, and boarded a passenger to Gwalior.
Reached Gwalior, got the photos printed at Jitu Jain’s Super Photo Lab, and moved towards the pavilion – Surya Vihar Colony. After a rejuvenating and refreshing bath, re-gathered at Suranjan’s rooftop to analyse the whole event and re-live the moments by glancing at the photographs. This is how my third and the most detailed visit till now came to an end.
But, the fire was still burning; the desire had the same intensity, as it was when I first saw it in my schooldays. But, no planned visit was on the cards, when suddenly I saw a silver lining in the dark cloud. Gwalior Consultancy work had just started, and it was decided to tour Gwalior every month at least once. When I glanced through the scope of work, Datia again resurfaced and so did the unknown desires. That meant I would have go to Gwalior, Datia, and other adjoining areas very soon.
An official visit on a hidden personal agenda was planned, and once again Gwalior fort, dominating the Gwalior skyline made its appearance just as my train – Bhopal Shatabdi, rushed into Gwalior in the horrifying summer of May. Had no idea that I may get a chance to visit Datia, but now Datia Mahal was no more there – at least for me, as I had just discovered that Govind Mandir is the actual name of what I knew as Datia Mahal. My newfound passion for Indian Architecture had driven me to go through, only pictorially some really good books. In fact, I was not alone whom this magical monument left spellbound, but it caught the imagination of many great architects. It was a personal favorite of Sir Edwin Lutyens, who designed New Delhi as we see it today.
On my second day at Gwalior after a very hectic late night marriage ceremony, I was totally exhausted and devoid of sleep. But, the very thought of having a look at Govind Mahal live drove me and pumped my physical energy level. Initially, it was planned to cover Dabra and proceed to Datia. But, I changed it and decided to go to Datia first. On our way, some fortification, next to the highway drew my attention. The bastions were intact, but the encroachers had taken away some of the stones to make their sheds. I decided to come back next time, and moved ahead.
Just when we were close to Dabra, one more fort came into the frame. This one was a very small on the top of an isolated cliff. Must have served as a residential complex of any high-ranking official. This too was added to the list of monuments to be covered in near future. Picked up the L&T Official at Dabra and after a terrible drive of 45 minutes, we reached Datia. The contractor took us to a MPSTC Hotel on relatively low hill just opposite to Govind Mahal. It gave me my fourth opportunity to examine the architectural details, and a view that I had never before.
Govind Mahal sitting pretty on the hill with the waters of Karna Sagar adding to its beauty and grandeur. From this angle you can actually avoid the modern structures and hutments that often disturb the whole ambience. The view can be termed as a timeless medieval view – very much how it would have looked during its heydays. Some dhobis busy in their routine work could also be seen. I gazed at the palace for quite a while with some mild puffs of smoke. Some other stray monuments did instigated in me, a desire to explore them, but definitely not this time. Had our lunch and moved to the site, one after another. The second site at Datia Sub-station offered a view that justified the positioning of the palace atop the hill.
Other than Govind Mahal, this visit of mine exposed me to some of the less known and insignificant monuments from the bygone Raj era. The new palace, build much later than the Govind Mahal; the official complexes of the erstwhile princely state, build in Indo-Saracenic architecture; many gates that once led the royal pathways to the palaces; all scattered, with no one really concerned about them. But, the good part is these things have become interweaved with the local lifestyle and no one thinks them as alien. I was told that the new palace now house a full fletched market.
With few of my Questions answered and many more new queries being erupted, I came back from Datia. I don’t know when my fifth visit to Datia would take place, but I m damn sure that it is inevitable. Time is the only factor and I have the patience to wait for the reunion. Reached Gwalior by 05 00 hrs, dropped Appa Rao Garu and after finishing some other official works, decided to wait at the railway station. I was recollecting all the encounters one by one, and hoped for a detailed visit after the monsoons.
No comments:
Post a Comment