Postcard from Charminar

Looking up at Charminar

Charminar (meaning four minarets - char being four) is one of Hyderabad’s iconic buildings, constructed in the 16th century to - according to the Lonely Planet - commemorate the end of a devastating epidemic; a bit of a strange way to mark the end of an epidemic, perhaps. I would have thought a wild party would have gone down very well instead. However the Charminar is a beautiful building, as Islamic constructions tend to be, and is worth a visit. Surrounded by a busy market area, the monument stands like a graceful oasis to the mayhem of the old city. But like most Indian attractions it costs more to get in if you are a foreigner. In the good old days when I had a resident’s permit I could get in on Indian prices, but no longer, unfortunately. So while it is five rupees for Indians, it is one hundred for foreigners. My cousins say I should insist that I am Indian, but of course I would never get away with it. (Anyway I did try that one a few years ago at other tourist attractions but locals can sniff out a foreigner or NRI at fifty paces.)

Hyderabad was my first port of call as an adult twenty-two years ago, and despite spending a great deal of time in the city and returning a few years ago, this was the first time I actually got to go in the Charminar. The reason for this is that the monument has remained shut for many years, after it proved a rather popular place for lemming impersonations. One story I heard many years ago was that three orphaned sisters jumped to their deaths to spare their brother the burden of finding them dowries, but according to my cousins there are several other such cases.

To get to the top one has to climb very narrow, steep, winding stairs. There is one flight of stairs for up and another for down. But of course it should have been predictable that I would meet a bunch of idiots coming down the up stairs, leaving me and those behind me almost no room to pass in the dark. The Idiots chose to block the nice, fat part of the stairs, leaving us to pass on the inside. As we were going up a spiral, this meant about an inch or so of foothold. The Idiots were also standing by a landing and could have moved out of the way but this was obviously far too complicated.

A spice-seller negotiates his way through rickshaws

Once at the top, one gets a stunning view of the madness below. A person who shall remain nameless, but she knows who she is, told me once that she was taken to the Charminar after smoking dope, and found the whole experience completely bizarre as the traffic honked its way round and around and around. And the view from the top is really worth seeing as down below rickshaws, street-traders, taxis, cars and pedestrians pass round the Charminar, vying for road-space and trying not to be mowed down by something bigger. When Maryann (Keith’s wife) and I also tried to cross the road to leave Charminar we had to play chicken along with everyone else and take our chances.

I had chosen to go to Charminar because I thought it was about time I did some shopping, and because this part of Hyderabad has a variety of fabric, sari, leather and jewellery shops. But after being shown a few overpriced saris and feeling my throat and eyes burn with the dust and pollution of the place, I lost interest. “Did you buy anything?” my cousins asked when Maryann and I returned home.

“A bunch of bananas,” I replied.

“Oh, nothing nice.”

“They’re nice bananas.”

And so here is a short film of a view from Charminar. For some reason the madness does not seem so apparent in the movie, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

While I was away, Dominic was at home busy making a huge star to put over the house for Christmas. This started out as a wooden frame, which was covered in silver paper and then illuminated with a green bulb inside. I thought it was a little early for Christmas decorations, but apparently the 1^st of December is the traditional date for this branch of the family. I did also wonder about the star of Bethlehem being green, but hey, who knows what colour stars were in those days.... and Dominic just gave a big grin and chuckle when I mentioned it.

Anyway the star was launched over the house with much ado as I tried to take a photograph. This resulted in a little crowd of men who all had an opinion on how I should take the picture. “That should be zoomed,” I could hear being murmured behind me, “Yes, yes that’s better.” Not a surprise really. I have even had a group of people in India expressing an opinion on how I should stick down an envelope, so really complicated stuff like photography is bound to attract attention.

While the photos were going on Dominic’s two friends/assistants climbed up onto the roof to have their picture taken with the star; one remaining up there and posing long after I had put the camera away.

Ah, you have to smile.

Now to head off - the keyboard and mouse in this internet café are sticky... also I think something has crawled up my trouser leg and is feasting on me...