Shrabasti Mallik traces back the lost waters of Delhi and wonders if they can still be recharged amid the modern debate of rainwater harvesting and conservation
The monsoon showers have drenched most parts of the country by now and after the dreaded drought alert, we are breathing easy. Experts on water conservation are regaling television and drawing room discussions on the need for rainwater-harvesting and recharging ground water levels. But much before we rung the alarm bells, our ancestors realised the importance of having a back-up reservoir. And they dug deep stepwells wherever the slope of the land favoured a natural flow of rainwater down below. Almost every dynasty that ruled Delhi left behind a legacy of being a provider of the most basic need of people — a perennial water supply. At one time there were hundreds of stepwells in Delhi, which have vanished just like the mythical river Saraswati. But the thirst for Delhi’s lost waters remains, thanks to the relics of our home-grown engineering genius.
According to historian Pushpesh Pant, most wells were located far away from the river front and faded from public memory when alternative water supply systems where introduced in the post-Mughal times. Aggressive water extraction techniques like boring have wrung most aquifers, which fed these wells dry. Combined with neglect and abuse, these are nothing but stumps of ruins today, which could be rescued by declogging them of debris and human rapaciousness.
They say stones freeze-frame more than the moment of their inertness. They encapsulate time. And so a walk around the city’s stepwells tells us that they also nurtured a sub-culture of a vibrant community life. Stepwells were also leisure retreats because people climbed down to the water level as their base provided relief from daytime heat. Because of the gallery-like flights of steps, they became venues for social gatherings and religious ceremonies. For women, who mostly collected water those days, the baoli became their free space so to speak. It was because of the baoli’s socio-ceremonial practices rather than being just the utilitarian that each storey of the well were done up with ornamental and architectural features. Rajon ki baoli in Mehrauli was built during the reign of Sikander lodhi but named after the Raj masons who resided in the compounds during its construction. Gandhak ki baoli hosted diving competitions in the early 20th century.
Agrasen ki baoli
As we trickled off the heart of the Capital, Connaught Place, into Hailey Road, we reached Agrasen ki baoli, also sometimes called the Agar Sain ki Baoli or Ugrasen ki Baoli. Once a flourishing source of water, all that remains now are rusty old gates and crumbling stone boundary walls cordoning off its steepness. One might recall catching a glimpse of its steps in the Aamir Khan-starrer Pk as the protagonist’s address.
The well was named after the legendary Raja Agrasen in 10th century BC. “Although there are no historical records to prove who built the well, it is believed Agrasen commissioned it. It was, however, reconstructed by the Agarwal community somewhere during the 14th century,” said Himangshu Verma of Red Earth India, who is offering a walking tourist circuit along stepwells.
There are 103 steps that lead from the top to the bottom of this ancient construction. Structurally, this steep well has three levels, each of which is beautifully carved with arched pathways. It is now protected by the Archeological Survey of India.
The masons who constructed the baoli and who generously used the waters certainly did not see what we saw standing atop a staircase — the Connaught Place skyline in the backdrop.
Nizamuddin baoli
When we made our way through the Nizamuddin basti towards the well anchored by its chaos, we could not help but be distracted by the strong aroma of biryani, nihari and kebabs coming from nearby shops. The baoli, which lies at a short distance behind the Nizamuddin dargah, was quite a happening place with little boys jumping off the stairs and diving straight into the water and a few elderly taking a bath.
“If history is to be believed, the construction of the Nizamuddin baoli started almost 800 years ago, by the order of Nizamuddin Aulia. Interestingly, it was the same time that Ghyas-ud-din Tughlaq started building the Tughlaqabad fort. There was a tiff between the two because both wanted their respective constructions done at the same time. So the masons put in double effort and worked on the fort by day and the baoli by night. The emperor could not bear the fact both the constructions were happening at the same time. So in a fit of rage he cut off the supply of oil to Ghyaspur (modern day Nizamuddin) in the hope that workmen would stop in the absence of lanterns. It is believed that Nizamuddin Aulia lit lamps from the water of the baoli and cursed the emperor that his fort would remain deserted after it is complete,” said Pant.
This well is over 160 feet deep and borrows its charm, a exquisite silver carved door and other minute details from the adjoining dargah. From the inside, the baoli measures 123 feet by 53 feet. The architecture belongs to the 14th century. One long, single flight of stairs leads straight to the baoli, while the other three sides are guarded by a wall on the south, east and west end. It is believed that the water of this well possesses healing powers and is, hence, considered sacred.
The baoli is one of the few in Delhi which still has water. During the monsoon, the water level rises to submerge most of the stairs but with the rise in temperature the level drops significantly.
Gandhak ki baoli
located in Mehrauli, close to the mausoleum of Adham Khan, lies Gandhak ki baoli. It is quite hidden from the road by high walls except for only a few inches of space which serves as the entrance. The rusted, almost broken remnants of the gate, led us to the step well which still has water.
According to history, it was built by Iltutmish II of the Slave Dynasty for Bakhtiyar Kalki (a sufi mystic believed to establish the sufi order in Delhi) in the 13th century. Iltutmish, who was an ardent follower of the sufi saint, commissioned the construction of the well, the water of which tuned out to be very rich in sulphur. Hence the name Gandhak. “Gradually, it became a spa. People used to come here to take a bath in the sulphur rich water for their complexion. People who had skin ailments applied the curative on themselves,” said Shoail Hashmi, a historian and an expert on Delhi’s wells. Nobody ever thought of treating the water because it was believed to be sacred. “Since it was related to a sufi saint, the water was holy and nobody wanted to treat holy water,” pointed out the historian.
Today the spring has given away to stagnant water and all that remains of the magical structure are the ornate carved pillars. Interestingly, it is one of the early Sultanate constructions which incorporated the arch design even before the Europeans brought it to the subcontinent.
We came to know from Hashmi, that the entire structure consists of five levels, of which only the top level was visible to us. “The depth is more than 40 feet,” he said.
Rajon ki baoli
To reach this baoli, we had to take a walk through the Mehrauli Archeological Park, which is strewn with the remains of a decapitated mausoleum, old tombs and pavilions.
It was constructed under the instruction of Daulat Khan during the rule of Sikander lodhi in the 16th century. “It was finished in 1516,” said Hashmi. It is said to have been used for some time by rajmistris or chief masons. Pluralised, that is how the structure got its name.
Detailed ornamental design line the three enclosing walls of the baoli, which was built keeping in mind the privacy of women. Hashmi pointed out two chambers on the top level which had small peep-hole like windows through which only one could look out. “Earlier, it was used by women to spend some time without anyone prying on them but now it has become an exclusive preserve for pigs,” he told us.
There is an opening at the third level, where the water level never reaches, we were told. “During the summer months hot winds struck the cool water, cooled down and flowed upwards through the well. It resulted in a cool breeze,” Hashmi said and pointed out to a closed arch on the fourth level. “The wall behind it was cut to build a suspended balcony where one could sit and enjoy the cool breeze wafting in. In the olden times, as many as 15 people could be accommodated there,” he added. But the balcony was collapsing, so the wall was sealed shut.
Once the place for recreation, the majestic structure, and the little water that still remains in it, has become a haunt for vagabonds. The water, green with moss and algae, now keeps afloat memories of a lost chapter.
Other Baolis of Delhi
Baoli at Feroz Shah Kotla fort
This circular well dates back to the Tughlaq era.
The Red Fort baoli
The Red Fort well beyond the Hayat Baksh garden was built in the 14th century, significantly pre-dating the fort itself which is 17th century. It has an unusual design that features an octagonal well-shaft, two-storeys and two sets of steps leading down, one from the north and one from the west. It was used at times as a prison by the British and, before them, the Mughals.
Khari baoli
Historians feel that there was a step well whose water was very salty, hence the name khari. It was along the street, which is now Asia’s largest wholesale spice market. But till date no historical evidence has been found about its existence.
photo Mukul Gola