Sugarcane
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Reproducing an old article written by Raja Arsalan Khan
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On a Sunday evening punctuated by sounds of motorcycle rickshaws, I arrived at what appeared froma distance to be yet another nondescript governmentoffice. However, when I looked closer, I noticed a blackenedsikhara (tower) rising above the raised walls of the rooftop.This is Krishna Temple, one of the many properties currentlybeing overseen by the Evacuee Trust Property Board(ETPB), which seems to have failed to notice that several of its charges are slowly being encroached upon and destroyedin the name of progress.Surrounded by police - a common enough sight at any areathat attracts congregations or gatherings - the KrishnaTemple's blackened walls depict a shrine that has obviouslyfallen on hard times. The first question that one asks whenlooking at it is, why is this once glorious place of worship insuch a state of disrepair? Sadly, the answer can be tracedback to the reaction against the Babri Mosque demolition in Ayodhya on December 6, 1992 - an incident that also led tothe devastation of Jain Mandir. The interior of the building,however, is still vibrant and alive, with paintings of variousHindu gods and goddesses greeting you as soon as youenter.
The temple is divided into various chambers; each onehousing statues of different gods. The first garbha griha(womb chamber) houses idols of Shankar Nath and Parvati,while another one on the first floor is dedicated to LordKrishna and Radha. Sadly, due to the Babri retaliation, thetraditional architecture of the Indian subcontinent has beenreplaced by modern, lifeless buildings.
There are currently only two hundred Hindu families living inLahore, but on the day I visited - the birthday of Baba GuruBalmik Swami - there were eighty people celebrating theoccasion by singing bhajans (religious songs) andparticipating in various rituals. Following the event, localHindu activist Manuhar Chand told me that the former federalminister Dr Khalid Ranjha, during a visit to the temple, hadsaid every place of worship should reflect its origins, yet theETPB had yet to take any action on his words. He said RajaTridev Roy, another former federal minister, had worked tohave the site opened for worship and festivals in 1972.
During our conversation, Manuhar criticised India for theBabri Mosque demolition, saying it had erected a wall of hatebetween India and Pakistan. However, the incident, whileregrettable, was just another example of society'sdevaluation of ancient traditions. Long before the 1992tragedy, property abandoned by Hindu migrants, includingtemples, was demolished to make room for residential andcommercial buildings. The reasons behind this are twofold: First, we are unwilling to accept such sites as part of our cultural heritage. State and society are both at fault in this, aswhile the state refuses to acknowledge the region's culture,heritage and identity, people refuse to resist any move todestroy their history. There are people who might questionmy connecting society with state, but until we define thedifferences, the degradation of our heritage is forever linked in this way. The government hasappointed the ETPB to oversee the protection and rehabilitation of these sites, but it seemsto prefer making money off the country's heritage sites by leasing them out at high rates,instead of preserving them for future generations.
First, we are unwilling to accept such sites as part of our cultural heritage. State and society are both at fault in this, aswhile the state refuses to acknowledge the region's culture,heritage and identity, people refuse to resist any move todestroy their history. There are people who might questionmy connecting society with state, but until we define thedifferences, the degradation of our heritage is forever linked in this way. The government hasappointed the ETPB to oversee the protection and rehabilitation of these sites, but it seemsto prefer making money off the country's heritage sites by leasing them out at high rates,instead of preserving them for future generations.
Second, while there are several cases of temples being desecrated and destroyed in thename of religious hatred or extremism, there are just as many that have no such linkages.While it can be a slow process, influential people do not hesitate to use their connections tograb any potentially commercial property. One such example is the Hanuman Temple near Shama Bus Stop on Ferozepur Road.
While once a sacred site of worship, the temple was demolished years ago, and only existsin the memories of those who are willing to risk the wrath of the current property owners. Another such example was the Sheetla Devi Temple, which has gone from being one of thelargest temples in Lahore to being nonexistent. This is an especially tragic case, as severalnotable personalities, including famous musicians Kamal and Qawwal Aziz Mian, lived in itscompound for some time after migrating to Pakistan during Partition.
The same story was repeated with the Ratan Chand Temple on McLeod Road, the MataTemple near Lorry Adda and the Moll Chand Temple at Landa Bazaar near the City RailwayStation. The latter used be a huge compound with over five hundred rooms. However, all thatremains of it now is a ramshackle arrangement of shops. I was personally most appalled bythe situation at the Ratan Chand Temple, because it was the site whose destruction I have looked at first hand.
During a visit to observe the remaining temple site, I encountered some locals who wereattempting to find a way to stop the ongoing "heritage carnage". They were collectingmaterial about the history of Lahore for research, and had a lot of photos showing what thecity used to look like before Partition. One such photo from 1870 was of the Ratan ChandTemple. The picture showed a site vastly different from the one I was familiar with. Itdepicted an expansive, magnificent structure surrounded by gardens that opened onto a vastpond - most likely used by worshippers for cleansing themselves before they entered thetemple, as there were no water supply schemes at the time. This trend was also reflected inthe mosques built throughout the Indian subcontinent, with the pool at Badshahi Mosquebeing a typical example of local Indian architecture in former times.
Encouraged by the picture, I decided to revisit the Ratan Chand Temple and travelled toRang Mahal in the Walled City. It was here that I learnt the true extent of the commercialismthat now pervades former Hindu worship sites throughout Lahore. The entire area wasringed with narrow streets that were made all the more claustrophobic by the smallbusinesses that have been tacked on, one after the other, along the street. Talking to locals, Ilearnt that the commercialism of this particular area started in 1985, when Nawaz Sharif became chief minister of the Punjab.
According to them, Nawaz Sharif, as the ambassador of the business class, supported thetraders over everything else. It must also be remembered that the 1980s were a time whenkillings and arson had become so commonplace in Karachi that thousands of businessmenwere forced to move to the Punjab, especially to Lahore. The vast majority of this businessfocused on garments and jewellery, and the businessmen set up shop anywhere they couldfind room. One former local whose family had lived in the Walled City during the 1980s toldme how astronomical the prices in the area could get due to their central location. "Look!This semi-old structure on a 1.5 kanal property, surrounded by narrow streets, has fetchedRs 420 million in a recent sale," he said. Shocked at the high property value, I asked himwhat the price of the same land would have been in 1985. "Maybe Rs 1.5 or Rs 2 million, butcertainly no more than Rs 2.5 million," he replied. "You don't need to wonder about the pricesin the suffocating streets of this locality. People are aware that you need to spend money tomake money, and the rates can easily become astronomical," he added.
I met another person whose house - property abandoned by a Hindu family - wasdemolished in 1983. He said the debris alone sold for Rs 0.3 million at the time. One canonly imagine the magnificence of the structure itself. "When I was a little child, I went to afriend's house and was amazed by its splendour. It was full of marble of many colours. Iremember asking him how he could live in such beauty," he added during our conversation.
Moving on, I encountered a Bangles Market established in the area soon after Partition.However, pre-partition, this entire area used to be the Bengali Temple. Now, all that remainsare a few residential and commercial buildings that are centred on a mosque. Similarly,moving deeper into the streets of the Sarafa and Kinari Bazaars, one encounters over sixtyshops, most of them brand new constructions. The temple compound here used to be soimmense that it took land encroachers several decades to completely demolish it. In fact, themost recent construction took place in 2005.
Not surprisingly, local businessmen are reluctant to talk about the area's history. "I am atrader and am trying to earn an honest living for my family. I don't have time to think about what this land used to be," said one shop owner. "There is another temple not far away fromhere," the former local accompanying me said as we continued deeper into the area. "It iscalled Vichho Temple. The land mafia is already targeting it, with intense competition amongthe parties vying for its occupation."
According to some estimates, there used to be around twenty Hindu temples in the WalledCity prior to Partition. However, there are very few left now, and the ones that are present arein a very dilapidated condition. The heritage of the city, in fact the country, is beingabandoned in the name of commercialism, as we shape everything in a manner that willgenerate maximum profit.
The encroachment, however, is by no means restricted to temples alone. In fact, the RangMahal temple itself has fallen victim to the scourge of commercialism. It doesn't end thereeither; another hundred and fifty yards onwards, the road splits into a fork due to a smallmarket. This market used to be one of the smaller Hindu temples of the city, but wasconverted into a market complex a long time ago in the name of progress.
Finally, we must look upon another victim of the encroachments that have overtaken somany heritage sites: the Baoli Sahib (Sikh Baoli). Traditionally, a Baoli was a communitycentre built around deep, sunken wells that provided water to the surrounding areas in thedrier parts of the subcontinent, especially Rajasthan and Gujarat. Some historians believethe idea dates back to the twelfth or thirteenth century, but several older Baolis have alsobeen discovered. Due to their central water source, villages and temples would be builtaround Baolis, making them an essential part of the Hindu and Sikh tradition in thesubcontinent.
This particular Baoli is said to have contained several underground rooms that wereconstructed over the well to provide cool rooms for use during the hot summer. However,due to the encroachments on the site, no pathway remains to confirm these claims. The onlyoption would be to, quite literally, "dig for the truth", but that itself comes along with severalproblems, as the current owners do not want their way of life to be disturbed.
Currently, this once proud centre of a Sikh community is home to a series of poorlyconstructed small shops. Unless one is aware of its background, the only way to perceivethe site's true history is to observe the small red bricks used in the construction of one of theboundary walls. Perhaps this was the boundary wall of the Baoli itself, which has now beenincorporated into the new community that has usurped the old land for itself.
What is particularly troubling, more so than the people's unwillingness to recognise their heritage, is that the ETPB, the one organisation that is supposed to oversee the preservationof such sites, seems to have given up on the matter entirely. Its inaction and lack of interestcan be gauged by the treatment I was accorded when I visited its office in Lahore to obtainsome information for this article. Every single employee seemed to be desperately anxiousto hide their affairs from me - despite a senior official directing them to help me with myqueries. However, no one was willing to so much as point me in the right direction. "We areserving the country, and Pakistan always comes first," was the only answer I got when Iasked why it was so hard for them to help me obtain information on a single temple in Lahore.
My temples, too by Raja Arsalan Khan
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On a Sunday evening punctuated by sounds of motorcycle rickshaws, I arrived at what appeared froma distance to be yet another nondescript governmentoffice. However, when I looked closer, I noticed a blackenedsikhara (tower) rising above the raised walls of the rooftop.This is Krishna Temple, one of the many properties currentlybeing overseen by the Evacuee Trust Property Board(ETPB), which seems to have failed to notice that several of its charges are slowly being encroached upon and destroyedin the name of progress.Surrounded by police - a common enough sight at any areathat attracts congregations or gatherings - the KrishnaTemple's blackened walls depict a shrine that has obviouslyfallen on hard times. The first question that one asks whenlooking at it is, why is this once glorious place of worship insuch a state of disrepair? Sadly, the answer can be tracedback to the reaction against the Babri Mosque demolition in Ayodhya on December 6, 1992 - an incident that also led tothe devastation of Jain Mandir. The interior of the building,however, is still vibrant and alive, with paintings of variousHindu gods and goddesses greeting you as soon as youenter.
The temple is divided into various chambers; each onehousing statues of different gods. The first garbha griha(womb chamber) houses idols of Shankar Nath and Parvati,while another one on the first floor is dedicated to LordKrishna and Radha. Sadly, due to the Babri retaliation, thetraditional architecture of the Indian subcontinent has beenreplaced by modern, lifeless buildings.
There are currently only two hundred Hindu families living inLahore, but on the day I visited - the birthday of Baba GuruBalmik Swami - there were eighty people celebrating theoccasion by singing bhajans (religious songs) andparticipating in various rituals. Following the event, localHindu activist Manuhar Chand told me that the former federalminister Dr Khalid Ranjha, during a visit to the temple, hadsaid every place of worship should reflect its origins, yet theETPB had yet to take any action on his words. He said RajaTridev Roy, another former federal minister, had worked tohave the site opened for worship and festivals in 1972.
During our conversation, Manuhar criticised India for theBabri Mosque demolition, saying it had erected a wall of hatebetween India and Pakistan. However, the incident, whileregrettable, was just another example of society'sdevaluation of ancient traditions. Long before the 1992tragedy, property abandoned by Hindu migrants, includingtemples, was demolished to make room for residential andcommercial buildings. The reasons behind this are twofold: First, we are unwilling to accept such sites as part of our cultural heritage. State and society are both at fault in this, aswhile the state refuses to acknowledge the region's culture,heritage and identity, people refuse to resist any move todestroy their history. There are people who might questionmy connecting society with state, but until we define thedifferences, the degradation of our heritage is forever linked in this way. The government hasappointed the ETPB to oversee the protection and rehabilitation of these sites, but it seemsto prefer making money off the country's heritage sites by leasing them out at high rates,instead of preserving them for future generations.
First, we are unwilling to accept such sites as part of our cultural heritage. State and society are both at fault in this, aswhile the state refuses to acknowledge the region's culture,heritage and identity, people refuse to resist any move todestroy their history. There are people who might questionmy connecting society with state, but until we define thedifferences, the degradation of our heritage is forever linked in this way. The government hasappointed the ETPB to oversee the protection and rehabilitation of these sites, but it seemsto prefer making money off the country's heritage sites by leasing them out at high rates,instead of preserving them for future generations.
Second, while there are several cases of temples being desecrated and destroyed in thename of religious hatred or extremism, there are just as many that have no such linkages.While it can be a slow process, influential people do not hesitate to use their connections tograb any potentially commercial property. One such example is the Hanuman Temple near Shama Bus Stop on Ferozepur Road.
While once a sacred site of worship, the temple was demolished years ago, and only existsin the memories of those who are willing to risk the wrath of the current property owners. Another such example was the Sheetla Devi Temple, which has gone from being one of thelargest temples in Lahore to being nonexistent. This is an especially tragic case, as severalnotable personalities, including famous musicians Kamal and Qawwal Aziz Mian, lived in itscompound for some time after migrating to Pakistan during Partition.
The same story was repeated with the Ratan Chand Temple on McLeod Road, the MataTemple near Lorry Adda and the Moll Chand Temple at Landa Bazaar near the City RailwayStation. The latter used be a huge compound with over five hundred rooms. However, all thatremains of it now is a ramshackle arrangement of shops. I was personally most appalled bythe situation at the Ratan Chand Temple, because it was the site whose destruction I have looked at first hand.
During a visit to observe the remaining temple site, I encountered some locals who wereattempting to find a way to stop the ongoing "heritage carnage". They were collectingmaterial about the history of Lahore for research, and had a lot of photos showing what thecity used to look like before Partition. One such photo from 1870 was of the Ratan ChandTemple. The picture showed a site vastly different from the one I was familiar with. Itdepicted an expansive, magnificent structure surrounded by gardens that opened onto a vastpond - most likely used by worshippers for cleansing themselves before they entered thetemple, as there were no water supply schemes at the time. This trend was also reflected inthe mosques built throughout the Indian subcontinent, with the pool at Badshahi Mosquebeing a typical example of local Indian architecture in former times.
Encouraged by the picture, I decided to revisit the Ratan Chand Temple and travelled toRang Mahal in the Walled City. It was here that I learnt the true extent of the commercialismthat now pervades former Hindu worship sites throughout Lahore. The entire area wasringed with narrow streets that were made all the more claustrophobic by the smallbusinesses that have been tacked on, one after the other, along the street. Talking to locals, Ilearnt that the commercialism of this particular area started in 1985, when Nawaz Sharif became chief minister of the Punjab.
According to them, Nawaz Sharif, as the ambassador of the business class, supported thetraders over everything else. It must also be remembered that the 1980s were a time whenkillings and arson had become so commonplace in Karachi that thousands of businessmenwere forced to move to the Punjab, especially to Lahore. The vast majority of this businessfocused on garments and jewellery, and the businessmen set up shop anywhere they couldfind room. One former local whose family had lived in the Walled City during the 1980s toldme how astronomical the prices in the area could get due to their central location. "Look!This semi-old structure on a 1.5 kanal property, surrounded by narrow streets, has fetchedRs 420 million in a recent sale," he said. Shocked at the high property value, I asked himwhat the price of the same land would have been in 1985. "Maybe Rs 1.5 or Rs 2 million, butcertainly no more than Rs 2.5 million," he replied. "You don't need to wonder about the pricesin the suffocating streets of this locality. People are aware that you need to spend money tomake money, and the rates can easily become astronomical," he added.
I met another person whose house - property abandoned by a Hindu family - wasdemolished in 1983. He said the debris alone sold for Rs 0.3 million at the time. One canonly imagine the magnificence of the structure itself. "When I was a little child, I went to afriend's house and was amazed by its splendour. It was full of marble of many colours. Iremember asking him how he could live in such beauty," he added during our conversation.
Moving on, I encountered a Bangles Market established in the area soon after Partition.However, pre-partition, this entire area used to be the Bengali Temple. Now, all that remainsare a few residential and commercial buildings that are centred on a mosque. Similarly,moving deeper into the streets of the Sarafa and Kinari Bazaars, one encounters over sixtyshops, most of them brand new constructions. The temple compound here used to be soimmense that it took land encroachers several decades to completely demolish it. In fact, themost recent construction took place in 2005.
Not surprisingly, local businessmen are reluctant to talk about the area's history. "I am atrader and am trying to earn an honest living for my family. I don't have time to think about what this land used to be," said one shop owner. "There is another temple not far away fromhere," the former local accompanying me said as we continued deeper into the area. "It iscalled Vichho Temple. The land mafia is already targeting it, with intense competition amongthe parties vying for its occupation."
According to some estimates, there used to be around twenty Hindu temples in the WalledCity prior to Partition. However, there are very few left now, and the ones that are present arein a very dilapidated condition. The heritage of the city, in fact the country, is beingabandoned in the name of commercialism, as we shape everything in a manner that willgenerate maximum profit.
The encroachment, however, is by no means restricted to temples alone. In fact, the RangMahal temple itself has fallen victim to the scourge of commercialism. It doesn't end thereeither; another hundred and fifty yards onwards, the road splits into a fork due to a smallmarket. This market used to be one of the smaller Hindu temples of the city, but wasconverted into a market complex a long time ago in the name of progress.
Finally, we must look upon another victim of the encroachments that have overtaken somany heritage sites: the Baoli Sahib (Sikh Baoli). Traditionally, a Baoli was a communitycentre built around deep, sunken wells that provided water to the surrounding areas in thedrier parts of the subcontinent, especially Rajasthan and Gujarat. Some historians believethe idea dates back to the twelfth or thirteenth century, but several older Baolis have alsobeen discovered. Due to their central water source, villages and temples would be builtaround Baolis, making them an essential part of the Hindu and Sikh tradition in thesubcontinent.
This particular Baoli is said to have contained several underground rooms that wereconstructed over the well to provide cool rooms for use during the hot summer. However,due to the encroachments on the site, no pathway remains to confirm these claims. The onlyoption would be to, quite literally, "dig for the truth", but that itself comes along with severalproblems, as the current owners do not want their way of life to be disturbed.
Currently, this once proud centre of a Sikh community is home to a series of poorlyconstructed small shops. Unless one is aware of its background, the only way to perceivethe site's true history is to observe the small red bricks used in the construction of one of theboundary walls. Perhaps this was the boundary wall of the Baoli itself, which has now beenincorporated into the new community that has usurped the old land for itself.
What is particularly troubling, more so than the people's unwillingness to recognise their heritage, is that the ETPB, the one organisation that is supposed to oversee the preservationof such sites, seems to have given up on the matter entirely. Its inaction and lack of interestcan be gauged by the treatment I was accorded when I visited its office in Lahore to obtainsome information for this article. Every single employee seemed to be desperately anxiousto hide their affairs from me - despite a senior official directing them to help me with myqueries. However, no one was willing to so much as point me in the right direction. "We areserving the country, and Pakistan always comes first," was the only answer I got when Iasked why it was so hard for them to help me obtain information on a single temple in Lahore.
My temples, too by Raja Arsalan Khan
