Stories from Hyderabad

My son (Soham) and I went to India recently. It was his summer holidays, and I was between jobs. The coincidence was too good an opportunity to squander, so a quick dash was organised to meet some family, friends and see a few places. Here are some stories from the Hyderabad leg of our trip.

11.       Like most Indian kids of my generation, my childhood contained the routine of temple visits on festive occasions (or before exams). Among the many I have visited, the temple in Keesaragutta was my undisputed favourite. Its unique charm was the mythological legend attached to it. The temple sits on a hill (gutta=hill) which bizzarely has several lingams (Lord Shiva’s phallus form) scattered arbitrarily all over the place. The story I was told as a child was that these lingams accidentally dropped from Lord Hanuman’s palm when he was bringing Sanjeevani to save Lakshman in Lanka.

This time I decided to read all the stone displays which I usually ignore (religiously), and lo and behold, I found out that my story told was incorrect. The real story still originates from Ramayana, but in a different part. Apparently when Lord Rama was returning after the war in Lanka, he stopped here to rest and found the place so peaceful that he decided to construct a temple for Lord Shiva here. As the auspicious time for its consecration was fast approaching Hanuman was sent to urgently bring a lingam from Kashi. In Kashi Hanuman couldn’t choose the best lingam, so after much confusion (= time wasting) he picked 100+ of them (100+) and brought them here. But he was too late so Lord Ram explained that they were not needed anymore. The sulking Hanuman threw them all over in a fit of rage, so Rama consoled him and said that this place would have his name and become famous. Keesara in the name refers to 'Kesari', the King of Monkeys and Lord Hanuman’s father.

So after 30+ years one of my childhood stories got corrected. I still find it amazing though.

You can see some of the lingams in the background of this pic. 

And below you can faintly make out the temple on the hill on the far side.

2.       A little-known wonder of Hyderabad is a place called Parsigutta. I grew up around here for several years and have a lot of family who still live there, so it was obviously in the itinerary.

The hill (gutta) referred to in the place’s name is a restricted, walled and gated territory. Once or twice as a child I had heard some rumours about the hill but apart from that nobody talked much about it. Mostly because nobody cared, and that is true even today. It is almost like this place doesn’t exist to the locals, lost in the noise and dust of their daily rush.

It was only several years later when I read up about Zoroastrian religion that I suddenly realised what it must be, I could connect the dots. I realised that Parsi refers to Farsi, the Persian language and as Gutta = Hill, so it must be a ‘Tower of Silence’ - the places (usually hilltops) where Zoroastrians leave there dead to be scavenged by the vultures. I went back to the main gate to actually read the board on the main gate and my suspicion was correct. Right in the middle of an urban sprawl was such a rare and unique thing. This was over 10 years ago.

Add a few more years and I was actually in Iran (in 2013). And when I was in the city of Yazd, the biggest hub for Zoroastrians, I visited a real, disused ‘Tower of Silence’ and saw the pit into which the bodies (wrapped in white cloth) are unfurled and dropped.  I also learnt that this practice is no more followed (actually banned), and that the community has shifted to contemporary methods to send away their dead.

So a truly unique culture which spread from Iran to India is now only found in India. Owing to the big presence of Parsis in Mumbai it remains the only other city which has a few ‘Towers of Silences. Ironically this practice is also dying in India, not because of a change in human preferences, but because of the near extinction of vultures in the cities.

Here is a pic I took of the main gate this time.

3.       One of the best things I did this time was attending a family event in my ancestral village. Barring few exceptions everyone from one side of my family was there, so it was truly awesome to meet all the extended family in once place. The venue and all the people were new to Soham but it was a joy to see how he was welcomed and befriended.

Here you can see all the young people trying to have a conversation with him, it was great fun.

4.       Here I also met an interesting person who had an extra finger on all limbs – so he has 24 fingers in total, that’s FOUR more than you and me. And apparently it runs in his family, both his son and grandson have 24 fingers!

He is a simple sweet person (in white below).

I hope to be able to meet all the family again.

5.       On the sidelines of this event which was held in the fields, I went into the village to take a picture of a particular house, this one.

Most villages in this region have one house like this which completely stands out in terms of its massive size and structure. Rest of the traditional houses are all single level simple structures, whereas this one is like a small fort – walled enclosure, arched entrance, a tower (to presumably defend the main entrance), and a double storied house in the centre.

These were the houses of the doras (the feudal lords) who ruled these villages back in the day. The ace director Shyam Benegal made several brilliant award-winning movies on rural oppression and exploitation in the early part of his career, and you can see such houses in some of them (I recommend 'Nishant').

These houses are now mostly abandoned, the ruling families have moved to the cities to raise their children as Engineers/Doctors. The only link between the villagers and this house is apparently an annual ritual where the villagers borrow the weapons from the house and parade them around.

Despite their dark and terrifying past I have always felt that the giant gate at the entrance locks in a treasure trove of interesting stories. It’d be great if these stories and structures can be salvaged, they are our history after all.

That’s all from Hyderabad, my friends. I also visited Mathura and Agra in this trip. But they have too many stories and I’m too lazy on a Sunday morning to type them all. So see you next time with stories from the Mughals.