The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
“Amma, you missed a fort!” cried Samhith. We were on our way from Pathankot to Dharamsala, and I had somehow fallen into a deep sleep. I was still groggy, but the word ‘fort’ was enough to wake me up. Or maybe it was the enthusiasm in his voice. He went on, describing how big it looked, and how it stood atop a hill, and all I thought was – I didn’t know there was a fort here! “Had you heard of the Nurpur Fort?” added Shankar, intruding into my thoughts, and I shook my head. For the first time, I kicked myself mentally for not being prepared enough, and decided we would stop on our way back.
4 days
later, as we headed back to Pathankot, we informed our driver that we wanted to
visit the Nurpur Fort. “There is nothing to see there, Madam” he replied, but
we stuck to our guns. Turning off from the main road, it was evident that this
must have been quite a fort at one time. The rise was steep and the winding
path perfect to ambush unwanted visitors. At the top, was a surprisingly big
complex housed in ancient, crumbling buildings. There was a court, some kind of
government offices, and also the local jail!
A sharp
curve brought us to a massive gate, which seemed surprisingly intact. A pair of
Ganeshas looked down at us from their niches on either side. A number of
vehicles were parked outside – cars, autos, and motorcycles. I wondered what
all these people were doing here. Were they tourists like us? Our driver had told
us that hardly anyone came up here to see the fort!
The gates
opened into a huge open space, surrounded by ruins. On one side, was a
relatively new structure, housing the local school. A board for the NSS stood
in front of one of the remaining turrets. It was evident that the fort was
still used, albeit for purposes other than originally intended.
The local high school, established in 1928, according to the plaque. |
The bright NSS board stands in front of one of what must once have been a watch tower. |
There was
no sign of the people who had parked their vehicles outside, and neither was
there any sign of the ASI, which was supposed to be maintaining this heritage
structure. The only mention of ASI was this scrawl on a rotting door.
We walked
further inside, looking around, clueless of its history, amazed by its size,
and curious about the stories that lay hidden from our eyes.
On our left
was a lake, cordoned off with barbed wire. Beyond it were the fortifications,
which had been visible from the road.
The huge lake, and the ramparts |
A newly
painted arch beckoned, and we headed there, hoping to find someone to tell us
about this place.
What we
found instead, was a wedding crowd, all squeezed inside a mandap just outside
a temple. Walking in, we felt numerous pairs of eyes, all focused on us. It was
so unnerving, that I didn’t click a single photo, and instead turned to the
board telling us that this was the Brij Raj Swami Mandir.
Here at
last, was some information about the temple, as well as the fort. This town was
originally called ‘Dhameri’, till the Empress Nur Jahan visited. She loved the
place, and in memory of her visit, the town was renamed ‘Nurpur’. The temple
here was originally the Diwan-e-khaas, the court where the king received
his most important visitors. Then, sometime in the 1620s, the king, Raja Jagat
Singh, visited Chittorgarh. He was given a room near the Krishna Temple there,
along with his priest, who had accompanied him. That night, they heard the
sound of anklets, and then, the melodious tunes of bhajans being sung,
not just perfectly, but with absolute devotion. They were convinced that it was
Meera herself singing to her beloved Krishna, and, the next day, when they took
their leave, asked for the idol of Krishna as a parting gift. The king obliged,
and when they returned, Raja Jagat Singh converted his audience hall into a
temple for the Lord.
The Brij Raj Swami Mandir |
Krishna
stands on a pedestal on the first floor, where the royal throne once stood, and
below him, the walls of the audience hall are covered with paintings. They are
now faded, but you can still make out the stories they portray. Most depict
incidents from Krishna’s life, such as his encounters with demons, while others
depict the king, and scenes from royal life.
As I walked
around, photographing the paintings, a bunch of kids followed me. The smallest
one piped up “Aap in puraane chitron ka photo kyun le rahein hain?” (Why
are you clicking photos of these old paintings?) I smiled, and replied, “kyunki
yeh bahut acche hain, aur mujhe pasand hain (Cause they are beautiful and I
like them). That seemed to break the ice, and the whole bunch joined in the
conversation, which ranged from the paintings, to where I was from, to their
school, and the wedding they were here to attend. A parent arrived to see who
they were chatting with, and tried to shoo them away, but they continued to
chatter till I clicked one last photo of them, and hurried back to Samhith and
Shankar waiting patiently outside.
The enthusiastic bunch of kids who gave me company at the temple |
Arches on the other side of the temple. See the photo of the temple, and notice the similarity to the arches at the entrance. Imagine what a beautiful structure this must have once been!! |
Wandering
into another section of the fort, we found ourselves in what must have once
been the queen’s quarters or the royal residence. There were decorative niches
all over the walls, much of which were intact. The roof had caved in, as had
part of the walls, but enough remained to give us a glimpse of how beautiful it
must have been. A curved staircase was the only suggestion that originally,
there must have been a level above, or at least a terrace. This portion looked over the valley, with a
superb view of the mountains beyond.
This appears like the queen's quarters to me, going by these niches which may once have held mirrors and other items. but there was no on to confirm or correct me. What do you think? |
The view from the fort. The snow capped peaks in the distance are the Dhauladhars. |
Further on,
there were remnants of what might have been the kitchens, and then a platform
atop which stood the remains of a temple. The base is all that is left now, but
it must have once been a grand structure. Every inch of the base is covered
with carvings, intricate and detailed. There are cows and camels, flowers and
birds, and of course, deities.
The remains of the ancient temple... this might have been just the platform or base! |
Details on just one side of the platform! notice the different levels and the different works on each level? Each intricate in its own way! |
We walked
around, trying to identify the stories depicted, exclaiming over every new
detail we noticed. I was fascinated by the depiction of the Dashavatar –
the ten incarnations of Lord Vishnu. Never before have I seen the first two
avatars – Matsya (fish) and Kurma (tortoise) depicted in their
animal forms, without a human face.
One side of the platform with the Dashavatar... |
Matsya (fish) on the right and Kurma (tortoise) on the left. Have you ever seen a similar depiction? |
Most of the
figures had their faces destroyed, whether by intention or due to nature, we
had no idea. It was difficult to identify the other figures, and it was
frustrating that there was no one around to enlighten us.
Our driver
beckoned to us from the entrance, and we realized that we had lost track of
time. We had a train to board, and it was time we left. A few people were
standing around, and they turned as we approached, obviously curious. “Where
are you from?” someone asked, and when we replied “Mumbai”, the curiosity
increased. “You came all the way from Mumbai for this fort? There is nothing to
see!!” an old woman exclaimed.
The entrance of the fort, and a bunch of women chatting. |
“Oh, there
is so much to see here.” I replied. “You have such a grand fort here, with such
beautiful carvings in that ruined temple. Besides, the ancient paintings in the
Krishna temple are amazing. You should be proud of them.” They looked stunned,
hearing these words from a complete stranger, from a faraway place. For them,
it was the deity who was important, the one to whose shrine they came for weddings
and celebrations, or to pray for good fortune. That there was more to it was
something they had probably never even thought about.
But then,
it isn’t their job to, is it? It should have been the ASI here, restoring this
grand structure, preserving what remains of it, ensuring that the paintings
remain as they are, for generations more.
However,
the fort lies forgotten, the haunt of students bunking class, or lovers looking
for seclusion. The Krishna temple is the only structure still in use, but even
there, the paintings are fading, and in dire need of restoration.
We were all
quiet as we drove away, each of us filled with our own thoughts. There was an
overwhelming sense of sadness, at the state of the fort. However, there was
also a deep pleasure, that we had found such an unexpected gem on our trip.
Samhith turned to me as we sped along the highway. “It was a nice fort, na,
amma? And you only saw it because of me!” he preened. For once, I had to agree.
Information:
- Location: Nurpur is 28 Km from Pathankot and 60 Km from Dharamsala.
- How to Reach:
- Pathankot is the nearest city, and is well connected to the rest of the country by the railways.
- Nurpur Road is a small railway station on the Kangra valley railway, between Pathankot and Dharamsala.
- The nearest airport is at Gaggal (Kangra / Dharamsala) 45 Km away.
- Where to Stay: The best options for accommodation would be at Pathankot and Dharamsala, both of which cater to all budgets.
This post is part of my series on my #summertrip 2015, and I hope to take you along with me as I recount stories from my month long trip, which took me across the country. To get an idea of all the places I visited, and what you can hope to read about, click here.
Related Posts:
- The Himachal Series-
Those carvings and paintings are impressive, even in the state they are currently in! Like you, I bet the fort and temple were amazing in their heyday. Thank you for the tour!
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it, Natalie! There are so many such structures lying around, in a sad state of neglect. We were lucky to have stumbled on to this one. Hope I can find many more and share info about them too.
DeleteBeautiful pictures :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Anjali.
Deletebeautiful pics
ReplyDeleteThank you Shoma.
DeleteGreat post and awesome pictures ..!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Arun.
DeleteGreat Post! Helped me plan my trip to places around Kangra Valley and I loved the temple in Nurpur Fort. Thank you :)
ReplyDelete