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Mohd Ali Baig rewinds to the Hyderabad that used to be and wonders if the city today has any resemblance
A BUSY
Bollywood actress friend of mine returned to Mumbai after a long shooting schedule in our lovely city of Hyderabad. When I bumped into her in Mumbai she exclaimed, “Know what, I have just returned from your city!” “So how was your stay?” I asked her with equal zeal. “Fabulous!” she exclaimed again. “Did you get time to see some interesting places?” I enquired. “Of course, I went to NTR Gardens, the Hi-Tech city and the amazing film city that you have.” “And?” I asked. “Isn’t that all?” she declared. Is that all there is to Hyderabad today?
Imagine, if Quli Qutub Shah, the founder of the city, had to encounter this question in the Balahisaar of the Golconda Fort. Or HEH the seventh Nizam, Mir Osman Ali Khan Bahadur, in the darbar hall of Khilwat Mubarak at Chowmohalla Palace was told that visitors to Hyderabad call this city ‘fabulous’ because of the unaesthetic concrete jungle that it is becoming these days. Imagine if my grand dad or dad were alive and witnessed this hilarious piece of conversation. True blue Hyderabadis would complain that Hyderabad today is without ‘Hyderabadiyat’. It is turning out to be something like an oven-cooked biryani served with packaged, ready to cook mirchi ka salan. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know the difference. But if you do then it is sacrilegious. Hyderabad today does not look, feel or sound like Hyderabad. And I am not referring to the call-centre accents alone, nor to the glass and chrome architecture that seems to be changing the character of the city.
Hyderabad had always celebrated life! Whether it was Eid, Diwali, Christmas, weddings in the family or any small ceremony like Bismillah or aqeeqa with typical Hyderabadi grandeur. In fact, there would be some seven ceremonies of at least seven days prior to the actual pre-wedding ceremonies. And seven such post-wedding ceremonies. Seven, in-fact is a very auspicious number for us; Hyderabadis with inherent ‘Hyderabadiyat’. Qutub Shahi dynasty, who formed the city, ruled for seven generations. There were seven Nizams of the Asaf Jahi dynasty, who shaped our identity and culture. That’s probably why Hyderabad was always seven steps ahead of other metros.
Recreation for Hyderabadis meant different things, not just lounging at a bar alone. Possessions meant that a Bentley was just another car in your portico and not something that you like to get written about. A bejewelled Rolex or Breitling was something you wore just to check time. Specially tailored John Burton suits from England were brought because only he knew how to make suits with perfect cut for each of his esteemed clients including HRH the Prince of Berar Azam Jah Bahadur and the Prince of Wales. Hunting was a favourite pastime on any of the seven days of the week. Men played polo to work out, not just themselves but their horses as well, and women dressed specially in their chiffons and pearls to watch them which added raunaq between the chukkers. Eid was not just a Muslim festival or Diwali for Hindus alone. Pure attar was considered more discerning than branded colognes. Servant quarters in palatial havelis were more luxurious than today’s upmarket condominiums. Chivalry and genteelness were character traits. Etiquette and manners even more than that. Guests coming home for dinner meant an effortless, home cooked seven-course chowki dinner. Sheer pardahs in ‘ladies cars’ added to their grace and poise. Sathladaas, an inevitable piece of jewellry in their dainty vanity box.
I remember, my siblings and I used to play in the mehfil khana, a music pavilion, at the Ahmed Bagh Palace where we were born. Live performances could never be staged today in more authentic settings. Times changed and one would use shikaar ke machaan as just hunting trophies, polo mallet as mere wall hanging and riding breeches reduced to your ad films costumes and props
room.
Today, the Kimkhaab sherwanis are permanent fixtures in one’s wardrobes. The
tandoor by the lawns a symbolic barbecue party relic much like those lotus shaped ponds with huge fountains. Dastaars and roomitopis are let only for formal dress parties. Grandmoms saalgirah rings in pure resham a distant memory along with her silver paandaans.
But koi baat nahin, Hyderabadis believe that every seventh year brings pleasant surprises. This seventh year may bring Hyderabadiyat back in vogue!
The writer is an ad film maker
and a theatre personality
And now: The city beats to a new tune
A REGAL PASTIME: The Prince of Berar
What celebrations meant then: An all night Diwali celebration in full grandeur
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