From Yadgar Chowk in the middle of the city, a long walk called Bazaar Kalan leads all the way to historical Gor Khatri. Narrow lanes branching out on both sides of the bazaar opened up into old neighbourhoods of Peshawar. Some old mansions were on the main road, many others inside the maze of old city streets. Busy marketplace was further congested by ongoing construction of the road. Shops selling antiques and used stuff particularly caught my attention.
New Peshawar had put old Peshawar on sale. Bit by bit, article by article, old mansions and households were being broken up and brought down for sale. We followed Dr Saddiq into a narrow lane turning left from the bazaar. Just a few steps into the lane I was completely dumbstruck and couldn’t help stopping for a moment to appreciate the beauty of the neighbourhood.
We were in Mohalla Sethiyan which wasn’t a district of Alladin’s Aqraba as was my first thought. In a labyrinthine street, handsome triple-storey mansions with absolutely amazing arched facades were standing tall. There was something unusually beautiful and mysterious about these grand mansions. A lovely wooden jharoka here and a small secret window there, facades decorated with long lines of blind arches, high terraces covered on all sides with arched screens and exquisite little reception courts before main entrances.
Perhaps the most unreal thing I saw in Mohalla Sethiyan was a fragile wooden bridge over the street connecting the third-storey terraces of two mansions standing opposite to each other. These houses were nothing less than royal, constructed by one of the wealthiest family of its time.
Our destination was Sethi House, one of the grand old mansions of Mohalla Sethiyan which was acquired by the government not too long ago, conserved and turned into a tourist attraction. This mansion was constructed in 1884. As the legend goes, Peshawar based Sethis were rich merchants with businesses spread across Afghanistan and Central Asia. They constructed themselves palatial mansions and lived in great style in the old city of Peshawar. The family also contributed to various socio-civic causes including the construction of Islamia College University.
However, they faced major financial setbacks after the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. Soon, the fabulous wealth started diminishing and they lost their glory and fame. Great mansions of Mohalla Sethiyan were divided and re-divided among subsequent generations of inhabitants and some of them were sold away owing to hard times. The Sethi House was in a bad state when it caught government’s attention. Realising its historical and aesthetic worth, the mansion was acquired from its last owners, restored to the nearest possible state of its original beauty and opened to public.
We entered Sethi House through a side entrance. The dark corridor led to a spacious courtyard. There was a silent fountain in the middle and on all four sides, stain glass windows fixed in unbelievably beautiful wooden carved arches, opened into the courtyard. Behind the windows, there were four halls with adjoining chambers and staircases to access basements and upper floors. Interiors were even more breathtaking. Wooden ceilings were beautifully decorated with geometric designs in different colors and hand painted floral patterns. Stain glass windows did wonders with sunbeams passing through them. On top of every other fireplace, there was an exquisite arched column of very delicate and beautiful cheeni-khana work, the use of mercury mirrors for decoration.
In one corner of the house, there was a deep indoor well accessible from all floors. Chambers inside the basement were deep and spacious with amazing provisions for light and air. Second floor of the mansion had an open terrace with a beautiful view of old Peshawar. The man who dreamt of this house must’ve been a Mughal at heart. I couldn’t come out of its trance for days.
Sethi house was constructed in original Turkestan pattern with huge wooden beams used alongside bricks and stone slabs in the walls, giving the structure an enduring lifetime. Government’s initiative of preserving this gem of a monument in a very professional and imaginative way deserves appreciation. We badly need such sensibility and dedication in preserving history and heritage spread across Pakistan.
Back in Bazaar Kalan, as we walked on, a huge Mughal gateway at the end of the road became prominent. It was Gor Khatri, a seventeenth century caravanserai built on orders of Princess Jahanara who happened to have stayed in Peshawar on one of her journeys to Kabul. The historical compound, partially intact and heavily encroached at some points was undergoing massive restoration works. The caravanserai was built on typical Mughal pattern, much the same like Akbari serai at Lahore. It was square in shape with two massive gateways facing east and west and lines of small arched chambers on all four sides. Its outlook has changed since. Gor Khatri is a strange and interesting spectacle of changing times. Here, you can witness all eras of Peshawar’s history at one place. Design of the place is still based on the Mughal caravanserai.
Then there’s a Shiv temple in the middle of it which is well preserved and open for worship. Western flank of the former serai houses a British era fire brigade engine shed, dated 1912. Towards north, there’s a huge banquet hall, an ugly symbol of post independence encroachment. Fortunately, the present government has ordered its demolition.
Last but not the least; the most interesting part of Gor Khatri is the recent discovery of thousands of years old archaeological remains just beside the eastern gate. This area is cordoned off from public and further excavation is in process. Convergence of different cultures and historical eras at one place makes Gor Khatri a unique attraction. In the initial stage of preservation, open space in the middle of the compound is converted into a public park and surviving chambers of caravanserai serve as art and craft showrooms and city museum. It is expected that very soon this historical compound would be restored properly.
It was already mid afternoon and we still had to visit the notoriously famous wholesale market Karkhano. So in order to save time, we all squeezed inside an auto rickshaw to reach Yadgar Chowk where the car was parked. The day had provided more than enough to appeal to our sense of history and heritage but little to arouse our taste buds. Dr Saddiq took us all the way across Peshawar to the famous Shinwari restaurant to have Kabuli Pulao for lunch. Unfortunately, I had only heard about the delights of Kabuli Pulao before. From Gwadar to Hunza, there are thousands of Shinwaris and Kabuli Pulaos all over Pakistan but the problem is that a vast majority of them do not serve genuine food and I was disappointed every single time.
Hopes weren’t high this time either because I used to identify the name Shinwari with bad food. I was in for a surprise though. We climbed the stairs to a spacious dining hall on the first floor. Mostly, the hall was used for traditional tribal floor sitting. There were a few tables, chairs and charpoys as well. Shortly after giving order, we were joined by Dr Fahad, another friend of Dr Ahmad’s for the rest of the day. He made his own contribution to the ongoing fun and humor was seriously intensified. Shortly afterwards, Kabuli Pulao was served in a huge round dish. It was full of juicy rice cooked in mutton broth and a huge chunk of meat in the middle. The aroma was heavenly. They had provided us with plates and spoons but we decided to eat directly from the dish as per tradition. The meat was very tender and well cooked, complemented with the rice and usual vegetables, it turned out to be a complete delight. I absolutely relished Kabuli Pulao. To describe it as very delicious would be an understatement. So it’s true what they said, Kabuli Pulao creates loyalties. I had only been looking for it at wrong places.
We had come out of the city on Grand Trunk Road, leading all the way to Jamrud and Torkham, the Pakistan/Afghanistan border. The Grand Karkhano Bazaar was located by the highway. As we came closer, it became more crowded and congested. It’s a many miles long maze of markets within markets selling literally everything in the world. From an oriental carpet to Soviet manufactured gas masks, you name it and they have it. The grand market gets its name from the factories (karkhanay in local languages) nearby. You’ll find all the variety in the world at Karkhano, the smuggled stuff from Afghanistan, second hand goods which arrive in containers, locally manufactured things and imported items as well. Dr Asad was getting married in seven days, so he wanted to buy a few things for his new home. We kept roaming in the never ending maze of Karkhano till late in the evening. Compared to it, Lahore’s Shahalam Market seems humble. Dr Ahmad got a new lens for his camera at a very good price. I brought back a souvenir, a small sculpture of Omar Khayyam from an antique shop. Now it adorns one of the shelves in my study.
Back in the city, we had a delicious dinner at a chappal kebab joint and moved on to our last stop before leaving for Islamabad, the beautiful and historic Islamia College University. It was a pleasant mid December night. We had to park quite far and walk all the way to the campus. The main building was beautifully illuminated with warm lights. It has adorned many a national currency notes and remains an enduring symbol of Khyber Pakhtunkhwah. We walked to the huge ground in front of the campus to get a better view of the building. A nice blend of Mughal and colonial architectural styles, the domed and arched structure of Islamia College University personifies grace and dignity. On our way back, the gate keepers insisted that we stop by for a cup of tea. So we did and a minute later I had a beautiful little tea cup in my hands, with floating tea leaves and a sharp aroma refreshing me for the drive back to Islamabad. Amazing hospitality, stunning architecture, delicious tribal food, rich culture, vibrant colors, abundant life and warmth, these were my everlasting impressions of Peshawar.
Back on the highway towards Islamabad, Dr Saddiq played a melodious rendition of the Punjabi classic “Challa” by Shaukat Ali. With my senses flooded with beauty of Peshawar, mellowness of the beautiful song took me to a rare state of ecstasy. I haven’t been able to recover since.
May the road never end…..
