The Paigah Tombs

by Madhu Reddy

As the Mughal Empire crumbled in the early 1700s, the Nizam’s of Hyderabad rose to power and by the mid 18th century surpassed the Mughal dominion, and the opulence and grandeur of the state of Hyderabad can still be seen in the many architecturally poetic palaces, mosques and mausoleums.

One such recent discovery within the old city limits is the cluster of the Paigah Tombs. Next only to the Nizam’s the Paigah nobles had a very powerful position within the empire, being the guardians of security and defence within the regime. The tombs are series of mausoleums erected for the Paigah’s, some descendants of the Nizam’s who were married into the lineage.

The delicately carved marble facades, exquisite inlaid mosaic work, and the intricate lace like lattices and elaborate canopies rivet the attention to the fine example of Indo-Islamic style of architecture. It’s said the artisans came from far and near to create this fusion, a unique manifestation of Greek, Turkish, Islamic and Rajapuntana techniques. The delicate and intricacy of the stuccowork, patterns on the rosewood doors, the graceful turrets that adorns the structures are a delight to photograph. One can spend hours; the geometric shapes make unique subjects, inlaid into the artwork one can see serpents and squirrels, exotic fruits and flowers, each wall looking different with new discoveries.

Despite signs of natural aging, neglect and apathy these tombs still retain some of their former glory. An imaginary flight into the kaleidoscope of history and one can see the semi precious stones once inlaid in the tombs, the pearl white marble shining under caring hands and bright sunlight creating intricate pattern work as it streams through the lace windows.

Unlike some of the historical monuments, the Paigah Tombs are in a living community, amidst a burrow of houses and obscure lanes. Linger around in the area to hear more about the stories from the caretaker, neighbourhood kids will come with their shy smiles and beaming eyes, the woman hidden under their veils encouraging their kids to interact with the few visitors.

The mosque holds daily prayers, the azan ringing through the day, the courtyard used by kids to study bring life to these ancient monuments. Right in front of the main tombs local medicine man dressed in dark traditional garb and headwear draw the neighbourhood crowd. They come with faith into a room filled with herbs, feathers, dried roots, greyed jars of medicines; to the city dwellers it might seem time has stood still in this mysterious yet mystical place.

It’s not the Taj by any means, yet a spectacular specimen of an artist’s rendition. One can recall the intricacies of great Sufi verses while observing the master craftsmanship at hand. It's poetry, in marble.