Afternoon in Another Era

Alighting from the bus into the afternoon sun, half-asleep and dazed, I felt unprepared for the beauty of the Ashtur tombs. The first tomb we entered was a kaleidoscope of maroon and deep blue, complex geometric patterns and calligraphy stretching upwards as far as we could see into the dark dome above. An old man crouched near the first step at the entrance, directing the sun’s rays onto the interior of the dome by way of a mirror, allowing us to admire what would otherwise be hidden. My one disappointment was that women were not allowed to step inside and could only appreciate the art from a distance.

The tombs are imposing structures, stolidly standing their ground since their construction centuries ago, their only companions the tall neem trees which offer welcome shade. It is under one of these that there lies a grave with no body to inhabit it – a curious story of a nobleman who had his grave built during his lifetime, but passed away too far from home to have his body brought back and buried in the spot he had selected.

Some of the tombs lie in ruins; the dome of one has caved in, the remaining portion rising into the sky like the jagged edges of a rock, the yellow ochre striking against the blue. The other place that piqued my interest was the tomb of Makhdumah-i-Jahan, the wife of the sultan Humayun Bahmani, and mother to the sultans Nizam Shah and Muhammad Shah. Having read about her, and attempted to put myself in her shoes to write a diary, it felt strangely dreamlike to be standing outside her tomb, to walk where she once walked over five hundred years ago in Bidar Fort.

                                                         

Leaving the Ashtur tombs, I got the sense that if someone was to visit the place decades and centuries later, it would be the same – a little worse for wear, but still with an atmosphere unique to it, one of history standing still in a place removed from traffic and crowds, carefully preserving the lives and art of those who existed in an era long before our own. 

- Antara (Article)
   Keith (Picture)