Fatehpur Sikri: City of Victory
Part of the trip -
Rajasthan and the Golden Triangle
A Unesco World Heritage Sight just outside Agra. As masculine as the Taj is feminine. Worth the extra trek.
Akbar, an early believer in religious and racial tolerance, welcomed all faiths to his court. Born a Muslim, he took Hindu and Christian wives, and appointed non-Muslims to his council. His rational and scientific approach to tolerance reached the courts of Europe, with even Elizabeth I sending him a message, "a singular report of your majesty’s humanity has reached these distant shores of the world.”
We left our less-than-average hotel in Agra and headed out towards Fatehpur Sikri with hope in our hearts (let’s face it, anywhere outside Agra must be good for the simple reason it's not in Agra. How is it that one of the ugliest cities in India has some of its most celebrated treasures?)
Akbar’s ‘City of Victory’ stands alone and stark on a barren rocky plateau, overlooking the surrounding parched land for miles around. Referring to my note book, I found a string of exclamations: “The scale! Location and position! Dark red sandstone. Meticulously well-maintained. Exudes power! More palace than fort.”
Sculpted from blood-red sandstone, the complex rams home to visitors just how powerful Akbar was. It must have been imposing and terrifying when he lived here with his entourage. At the city’s entrance, standing 54m high, a monumental gate leads directly to the Jama Masjid, a mosque capable of holding 10,000 worshippers.
Childless, Akbar sought advice from Shaikh Salim Chisti, a Sufi saint in the village of Sikri. Salim correctly predicted that the great ruler would have three sons. The first, Prince Salim (named after the Sufi), was born in Sikri in 1569. So grateful was Akbar to the saint, that he ordered a mosque and palace to be built right where the Sufi lived (and was eventually laid to rest). Akbar re-named the complex Fatehpur Sikri and it became the capital of his Mughal Empire, until 1585. Today women still tie a length of wool to the marble lattice windows of the tomb, in the hope that they too will fall pregnant with a male child.
Fatehpur Sikri's royal grounds gave us relief from the tourist traders and guides, who must remain outside the complex. Amid the tranquillity and splendour, we lost ourselves in another world of public and private audience halls, palaces, houses, an astronomer’s kiosk, Akbar’s giant bed, the Panch Mahal and ornate civic buildings. While Jamie searched the city for the best angle, I watched a turtle swimming in the ornamental pond. I saw children playing on the steps, men bathing or swimming in its depths and princesses dipping oiled and fragrant toes in the water (although I suspect Akbar’s renowned tolerance did not stretch as far as letting women out of purdah, or the harem).
Anyone contemplating a visit to the Taj Mahal, please don’t miss out on fabulous Fatehpur Sikri. It will stay in your memory forever.