UNESCO World Heritage Site SHAT GAMBUJ MOSQUE Architectural Evidence of History

Enchanting Echoes from an Ancient Ancient Metropolis

In an early winter evening, the sun is about to say the shimmery adieu for the day to those on the bank of the mighty Meghna. And you walk along the alleys of serenely silent Panam, trying to chat through your curious eyes with the architectural relics on both sides. They will slowly start engulfing you with their memoirs about witnessing time. A melting pot of architectural influences from the Mughal, the Sultanate and the European eras, but ardently crafted by local artisans and architects of the Bengal in their techniques, Panam City is a living specimen of the timeline. The comeliest of Chinni-tikri ornamentations made of broken ceramics brought from the Dutch, the scroll-shaped Greek stuccos, cast iron railings first produced in the 19th century Britain, and those alluring arches that you can eye on every Mughal era structure – the list goes on. The city is not only a pristine example of architecture but also has a finely designed urban plan, especially in terms of its utilisation of water. There are two large canals, parts of the land are slightly slanted towards one of the canals for drainage, and the city also has five big ponds. If we look at the remains of the buildings, it is noticeable that there are open spaces inside each compound and a well for household water supply in the backyard. Built almost five centuries ago by one of the legendary Baro Bhuiyas (12 Bhuiyas), Isa Khan, Panam City is the oldest capital of Bengal. Although it is one of the most popular tourist sites, many people still make the mistake of interchanging Sonargaon and Panam City. Whereas Sonargaon is a thousand years’ old, Panam is roughly 500 years of age. At the time, Sonargaon consisted of three cities: Boro Nagar, Khas Nagar and Panam Nagar. History says Panam started gaining colossal importance with the gradual decline in the prominence of the then-port city of Sonargaon, which was one of the most important trading points in the world. Bengal was the fourth largest exporter of goods at the time, and a golden era of the finest Bengal Muslin was vastly being exported to Europe, and various foreign goods were imported. Sonargaon was one of the most sought-after places for international merchants at the time. Later, with the arrival of the East India Company and the British sun gradually rising on the Bay of Bengal colonising the land, the plot drastically changed. The business didn’t stop at the site but it changed a lot with the British, making Panam a hub of their notorious indigo farming. As the demand for blue dye grew in the West for various usage purposes, so did the greed of the colonisers here for making more profit resulting in an ever more ill fate for the local indigo farmers. Although after a series of constant resistance later, the gruesome industry here gradually fell, the stains from the royal blue inked scars remained for a long time. Located 20 kilometers off the capital Dhaka, Sonargaon currently is an Upazila of the Narayanganj administrative district where Panam proudly rests. The remains of the beautifully built single to three-storied buildings on both sides of its roughly 600-meter-long main road, were mostly constructed from investments by the wealthiest local Hindu merchants and aristocrats of the time. The city containing multi-purpose buildings including places of worship, halls, guest houses for foreign merchants, libraries, and so on, was also a cultural hub with twinkling sounds of baijis (professional dancers) dancing in a courtyard full of guests consuming the finest of booze and tobacco, after the sunset. It is said that the Sultan of Bengal, Giyasuddin Azam Shah once invited the world-famous Persian poet Hafiz, but he was unable to make the long trip due to his old age. Hafiz instead wrote a beautiful poem about the beautiful city he only knew through word of mouth and texts. After reading his poetry, many Persians made their trip to the city, only to be enchanted by its aura. After a series of gruesome phases of riots, lootings of the site, and situations during the 1971 liberation war being the final nails in the coffin, the once-loved and bustling city was gradually being abandoned by its very dear residents. The buildings stayed like that, slowly rotting, welcoming new inhabitants outside human beings. For a time being many of them were being leased out by the government, followed by heavy protests from conservationists. In 2004 it was declared a protected site. Amongst the most significant buildings on the site, perhaps the most popular and notable one is the magnificent Baro Sardar Bari. Staying in a dying state for years without care, the once multi-purpose building, which still has hooks on certain ceilings inside, reminds us of how Muslin fabrics were hung. It recently went through a major painstaking restoration process as part of a conservation project funded by a Korean company in collaboration with the Ministry of Cultural Affairs. The remains are what in a comparatively well-state are 52 other structures as well. You can still walk on their marvelous checkered pattern floors of black, red and white marbles and mosaics with risks of plasters falling on your head from any of the walls above. But there are reasons to smile as part of the same conservation programme led by the Bangladeshi conservation architect, Dr. Abu Sayeed M Ahmed, the whole site will be gradually restored. Within a walking distance, in one of the restored old buildings, there is also a museum showcasing artifacts and the history of local handicraft practices. The museum, currently consisting of 10 galleries, was established by the legendary artist Zainul Abedin in 1975. From a broader perspective, Panam is much more than just being pertinent to the discussion of being an eccentric tourist site fantasised by the mass and delving into a peculiar sense of pride in the name of heritage. Panam is also a hushed yet piercing testament about how the nature

The Unfinished Mughal Fortress

Lalbagh Kella is perhaps the most quintessential remnant of the Mughal era in Bangladesh. Also known as Lalbagh Fort or Fort Aurangabad, it is a majestic historical site located in the heart of the old town of Dhaka. Built during the 17th century, Lalbagh Fort is a testament to the grandeur of this region’s rich history. Commissioned by Prince Muhammad Azam, the third son of Emperor Aurangzeb, it is also one of the most renowned Mughal structures in the subcontinent. Although Prince Azam initiated its construction, it was left incomplete due primarily to untimely death of his beloved wife, Pari Bibi. Iran Dukht Rahmat Banu, more known as Pari Bibi, was the daughter of Shaista Khan and grandniece of Nur Jahan, the consort of the Mughal Emperor Jahangir. Prince Muhammad Azam’s dream of creating a magnificent fort was left incomplete due to his wife’s untimely death and his own departure to join his father’s military campaign. This poignant episode in the prince’s life is an integral part of the fort’s history. The incomplete status, frozen in time, grips the guests within an aura of wonder about what it might have looked like had it been finished. In 1678, Mughal Prince Muhammad Azam Shah embarked on the construction of Lalbagh Fort along the bank of Buriganga in the southwestern part of Dhaka city. At the time, he held the position of Subedar (Provincial Ruler) of Bengal. However, his tenure in Bengal was only 15 months. His father Emperor Aurangzeb called him to Delhi to suppress the Maratha rebellion. Despite this setback, significant progress had been made, including construction of a mosque and the Darbar Hall. In 1680, Shaista Khan assumed again the role of Subedar of Bengal and took up the mantle of completing the fort. Under his guidance, the construction resumed. However, tragedy struck when Shaista Khan’s daughter, Pari Bibi, passed away prematurely within the fort in 1684. Grief-stricken, Shaista Khan deemed the fort is inauspicious and halted further construction, leaving it forever incomplete and abandoned. Shaista Khan ruled Bengal in Mughal period for a total of 22 years, from 1664 to 1678 and from 1680 to 1688. He was the maternal uncle of Emperor Aurangzeb. During his reign Dhaka prospered greatly and the best period of Mughal rule passed. He built Chota Katara Mosque and Seven Dome Mosque near Lalbag fort. Chittagong victory is one of his notable achievements. He also defeated the British in the Anglo-Mughal war. The architecture of the fort reflects the distinctive style, characterised by its typical grandeur, symmetry, and meticulous attention to ornamented details. Built primarily with brick, it showcases the finesse of Mughal-era craftsmanship. The fort’s main gateway is a three-story structure that embodies the classic Mughal arch. The gateway features ornate floral motifs and Quranic inscriptions, a sublime fusion of Islamic art and architecture. With its symmetrical design and elegant arches, the southern gate of the fort is another splendid example of Mughal architecture. The fort is adorned with massive corner towers, each with a distinctive style. These towers served both decorative and defensive purposes, and they provided an excellent vantage point to appreciate the entire site and its surrounding landscape. Tomb of Pari Bibi: A Testament to Love and Tragedy The tomb of Pari Bibi stands as one of the three primary structures within Lalbagh Fort — a silent witness to love, loss, and architectural beauty. In 1684, tragedy struck when Pari Bibi, the beloved wife of Prince Muhammad Azam and daughter of Subedar Shaista Khan, passed away prematurely. Her final resting place became the under-constructed Lalbagh Fort, where a tomb was erected to honour her memory. As visitors enter through the main gate of Lalbagh Fort, Pari Bibi’s tomb immediately captures their attention. In fact, the iconic image associated with “Lalbagh Fort” is none other than the exquisite tomb of Pari Bibi herself. The tomb boasts a quadrangular design, crafted from pristine white marble adorned with delicately carved screens and intricate floral motifs. Inside, nine rooms reveal a symphony of materials: marble stones, rough stones, and glazed tiles adorned with colourful flowers and leaves. The central chamber houses Pari Bibi’s burial site, surrounded by eight additional rooms. Among them, the southeast room cradles another small tomb — the resting place of Pari Bibi’s daughter, Samsad Begum. The tomb’s roof, fashioned in the corbel style, features four octagonal minarets at the corners and a central octagonal dome. Once gilded, the dome now wears a covering of brass and copper sheets. The interior, too, gleams with white marble stones. This 20.2-square-meter tomb was constructed before 1688 AD, but fate had other plans. After Subedar Shaista Khan’s departure from Dhaka, the fort lost its significance, eventually falling into abandonment. The shift of Bengal’s capital to Murshidabad (West Bengal) further contributed to Lalbagh Fort’s decline. In 1844, following the end of the Mughal Empire, the area was renamed from “Aurangabad” to “Lalbagh” (Red Garden) Lalbagh Fort: A Fusion of History and Architecture The Lalbagh Fort, a captivating blend of heritage and design, encompasses three distinct structures: a mosque, the tomb of Pari Bibi, and the Dewan-e-Aam. Alongside these focal points, two grand arcades and a partially ruined fortified wall contribute to the fort’s allure. Recent archaeological excavations, led by the Bangladesh Directorate of Archaeology, have unveiled additional hidden treasures within the fort’s grounds. Among these discoveries was a sizable dome situated at the southwestern corner of the southern fort wall. To the north of this wall stood various edifices — buildings, stables, and administrative structures. On the western side, a picturesque terraced garden adorned with reservoirs and fountains graced the landscape. Residential quarters occupied the space between the western and eastern sections of the fort, primarily clustered southwest of the mosque. The southern fort wall boasted five towers, each rising two stories high at regular intervals. Meanwhile, the western fort wall featured two towers, with the largest guarding the southern main entrance. Beneath one of these towers lay an underground tunnel that traversed

The Tales of Terracotta Temple

A embodiment of the weirdly mysterious vibe that ancient structures often procure, Kantaji is undoubtedly the most colossal example of terracotta architecture in the region. Often, it’s the grandiosity or beauty of religious space and/or the stories attached that give an inexplicable feeling of peace to believers, and even to the visitors when they enter the space. Kantaji is not only a Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Krishna, but this sublime piece of architecture meditating on the banks of Dhepa for three centuries, consisting of almost 15,000 pieces of delicate terracotta on its skin, and has its list of stories and myths attached as well. These, when combined, give the space a mysterious character that it tenderly holds. But even if you do not know much about Kantaji, being present at the site at the right time when the wind charmingly flows, you will understand that the atmosphere has suddenly taken you to a place where you do not know how old the time is. The story of Kantaji’s initiation blooms from a bud consisting of conspiracies. It was 1862, the reign of the last mighty Mughal ruler, Aurangzeb, the youngest son of Shahjahan who built the iconic TajMahal. It was also a time when the zamindari of the Dinajpur region was going through a rough phase. The then zamindar, Prannath Roy, was perched on the throne after the consecutive deaths of his two elder brothers. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Prannath was loved by his people. And within a few years, just like many other royal rivalry stories straight out of a novel, enters King Raghbendro Roy, zamindar of Ghoraghat. There was already a rivalry in existence between both the zamindar families of Dinajpur and Ghoraghat. Raghbendro plotted a conspiracy to take advantage of the situation and sent a letter to Aurangzeb, blatantly lying that Prannath had perched on the throne by killing his two elder brothers, Ramdeb and Joydeb. That he was not only a tyrannical zamindar, but also refused to obey the authority of Delhi’s ruler, Aurangzeb, and was irregular in sending the required tax. The plot worked. A furious Aurangzeb ordered a show cause and Prannath eventually traveled to the palace of the emperor with gifts. A while after they met, coming across the integrity of the kind-hearted Prannath, Aurangzeb realised his mistake and, out of kindness, gave Prannath the title of King and ordered him to carry on his usual zamindari of Dinajpur. The story of Kantaji’s initiation blooms from a bud consisting of conspiracies Here comes the most interesting part. As a devotee to Lord Krishna, when Prannath got out of this danger and received the title of King, as a devotee to Lord Krishna, he decided to do something out of love for his religion. While on his journey back to Delhi, he decided to visit Brindaban for a while and set up a Krishna temple in Dinajpur once he returned. During his stay in Brindaban, he was blown away by a beautiful Krishna statue, and he wanted to bring it back home for the temple he wanted to build. But, as said, he had a dream where Lord Krishna himself appeared and asked him not to take this particular statue as the feelings of the local devotees would be hurt. Instead, Krishna was said to have told Prannath to be patient because he was about to receive a Krishna statue identical to the one he desired during bath the next day, and that Krishna would travel with him on that statue. Soon after the divine dream, the next day, as Prannath was having his bath, he found an identical Krishna statue, beaming with its entire godly aura. This is what Prannath brought back Dinajpur to install in Kantaji. But that mysterious Krishna statue is not there anymore. It is believed that after the massive earthquake of 1897, when the temple was badly damaged and lost its original nine spires, for which it was also called “Navaratna”, the statue was stolen from the disastrous site. There is also a myth that Aurangzeb himself ordered Prannath to set up a Krishna temple, whereas Aurangzeb was a Muslim. And speaking of that, the architects Prannath commissioned for Kantaji were all Muslims. You can still find the brick mosque they built for themselves a few minutes distance from Kantaji. Another interesting fact is that just outside Kantaji’s premise; you will find an abandoned temple-like structure. That was the temporary temple that Prannath originally built, but he eventually wanted a grander one, hence he began the construction of Kantaji in 1704. Sadly, Prannath could not live long enough to witness the completion of this terracotta masterpiece. Every inch of the walls is embedded with a highly sophisticated opera of art, composed in a rhythm. Beautiful floral designs, amazing stories depicted from Ramayana-Mahabharata, and many extremely fascinating contemporary local stories, etc. Perhaps the most fabulously interesting ornamentation on the skins of Kantaji would be the depiction of erotic scenes. All these stories say so much about spirituality, about what is pious and what is not, about togetherness between human beings of different religions and so on. King Prannath Roy passed away in 1722. His adopted son, Ramnath Roy, took charge of the throne and, according to the last wish of his beloved father, finished the construction in 1752, which stands till date. With no tickets required, the temple is open at any time of the day and is open to all, regardless of faith. It’s one of the major archeological sites in Bangladesh.