It’s been under renovation now.
This thread from my recent visit
I start with vintage photos. For wh couldn’t find credit on net Suspect it’s British Library.

Lucknow historian Mr Roshan Taqui wrote many letters to the Govt emphasising it’s importance and need for preservation which led to the current restoration project.

One room on the upper floor retains some of it’s original wall paintings.

This also has trompl’oeil ( I got the correct description from Rafiq Kidwai) which is a visual illusion in art.

lucknow

Now a protected ASI monument, the Residency was built for the British Resident by Nawab Asafuddaula (started 1775) and the complex finished in 1800 by Nawab Sadat Ali Khan.

As a child I would often go there as we stayed very close to it. We would enter from the cemetery side and be shocked and awed by the story of The women and children who were besieged there. I don’t remember much of those stories or even how authentic they were but I can still feel the goose bumps I felt then on being told of the plight of the women and children who had fled to the tahkhana for safety. The sight of bullet and shot marks of course brought the sense of horror, close.

I remember the Begum Kothi which was built by Nawab Asafuddaula and subsequently sold to Sacville Marcus Taylor the Asst Resident who in turn sold it to Pandergast. This was later sold to John Culloden.
Nawab Nasiruddin Haider was married to a granddaughter of CullOden known as Wilayti Begum and entitled Maqdarah e Aliya. After the Nawab’s death the Wilayti Begum came to live with her mother Mrs Whearty in the Residency. Her mother and step sister Ashraf un Nisa came to stay with her. Both Wilayti Begum and her mother are buried in the compound of Begum Kothi.

Since Wilayti Begum had no issue her property was divided between her step brother, Joseph Walter’s known as Ameer Mirza and sister. The step sister got the Begum Kothi.
As a thanksgiving Ashraf un Nisa built a beautiful mosque and Imambara. I don’t know why as a child I never noticed them. Probably because they were far off from where we entered.

The Imambara is now roof less but it’s arches and arcades are still decorated with stucco. There’s a heavy smell of incense and I could see a Chad or and flowers beyond the iron railings and locked door.
I know that on shab e Ashur some of my friends go and do chiraghan there.

Some photos shared by Mehmood Abidi

The mosque is very pretty and has an unusual dome finial.
It was also locked so I couldn’t go in and I don’t know if it’s functioning or not.

Mehmood Abidi adds: Illumination @ Imambara inside Lucknow residency every year on 9th Mohorrum# our family tradition🙏

Arsh Ali adds: Yes… it’s working….and every Friday, at 4 p.m., i.e., after the munajaat of Ghaar ki Karbala, a Hadith-e-Kisa and munajaat program take place in this mosque which is followed by an alam procession which starts from the mosque and culminating at the Imambada. Many people witness this.

Nilesh ramesh Bahadure has sent me the following photos which he took:

Dali Ganj

It has a imambara, masjid and Karbala

People bring arzi or petitions here

Gori Bibi (daughter of Nawab Fazal Khan Bahadur, the grandson of the Vizier (prime minister) of Emperor Aurangzeb) was the most beloved and faithful companion of Major General Claude Martin.

Born in 1776, she was nine years old when she met Claude Martin.

Despite his advice to marry someone from her community she chose to stay on in his household. She was devoted to him & his favorite.

Claude Martin provided for her in his will and left instructions for a tomb to be made near his own tomb. She was buried on the grounds of La Martinere College very close to the crypt where Claude Martin is buried in the main building of Constantia.

It had fallen into disrepair and was renovated by the college under the guidance of its principal Carlyle McFarland a heritage enthusiast who has done much to restore the college to its architectural glory.

She was a widow longer than she was a bride and looked after Maryin’s affairs after his death from the zenana.

A painting of #GoriBibi inLa Martiniere by Zoffany of #GoriBibi and her adopted son.

Constantia which contains the grave of Claude Martin at night

Gori Bibi ka maqbara before repairs

Woh sama woh manzar 45 saal ke baad bhi aankhon ke saamne hai.

Kal phir gaye. Wahan bahut shandar imarat ban gayi hai

It was built by Dayanat-ud-Daulah, a khwajasara (eunuch) of King Wajid AN Shah and incharge of his Pari Khana-the centre of music, dance and drama at Qaiser Bagh that functioned during the days when Wajid Ali was the heir apparent. The khwajasara was earlier named Mohammed Ali Khan but when the title Dayanat-ud-Daulah was conferred upon him he came to be known as Muatamad Ali Khan (Muatamad means trustworthy). He had built the Karbala as his burial place.

As Rana Safvi waits for the monsoons to thunder down from the heavens memories of the season take her back to childhood

Kitne dilkash hain mere mulk ke mausam, inn mein
Husn ki baat karein, ishq par israar karein
Nur e Mehboob se raushan karein aankhon ke chiraagh
Phuul ki tarah se zikr lab-o-rukhsar karein

Here Ali Sardar Jafri reflects on Ritusamhaar, a poem by Kalidas that highlights the importance and beauty of every season.

Whenever the rain clouds gather my memories immediately take me to my childhood and the carefree and spontaneous rain dances in the courtyard.
These are universal memories and I doubt there’s anyone who hasn’t got wet in the rain.
Memories are now crowding in and I remember the saawan celebrations, which were organized when we were in college. Swings were put up on trees and songs sung with each swing:

Jhoole pad gaye daari daari, naache man ka mor,
sakhi ri, saawan hai ghan ghor

Saawan or monsoons is all about joy, songs and dancing as rain bearing clouds provide the much-needed succor from heat and provide water for agriculture. India being an agricultural society its festivals, songs and traditions are linked to the seasons, which are a source of livelihood for many. Rice the staple food of many in India is planted during this season and while growing up I remember seeing fields full of women singing while planting it in fields which had rain water up to their ankles.

As Mir Taqi Mir said:

Rut hai barsaat ki bahut pyaari
Maujzan jheele’n nadiya’n saari
Khet dhaano’n ke lahlahe shadaab
Kar rahe hain nazar ki dildaari

Saundhi
The aroma of wet earth hovers around in anticipation. Did you know that saundhi is called petrichor in English? However many perfumes or fresheners we may buy nothing beats the first saundhi smell that comes with the first rain fall. Nowadays of course we stay in air-conditioned homes where windows are rarely opened but the first rain is still welcomed with open arms and open windows by those living in huts, high rises or havelis.
In fact traditional perfumes associated with the aroma of this season are itr-e-gil or itr-e-khaki or saundhi mitti and wet earth that is still made in Kannauj the perfume capital of India. It’s even used in the summers as a cure for nosebleeds and high blood pressure caused by intense heat.

The people’s poet Nazeer Akbrabadi wrote:

Yeh rut hai ki jis mein khurd-o-kabir khush hain
Adna, gareeb, muflis, shah-o-wazir khush hain
Maashooq shad-o-khurram, aashiq aseer khush hai
Jitney hain ab Jahan mein sab ai Nazir khush hai
Kya kya machi hai yaaro’n barsaat ki bahaare’n

Henna
I was talking to friend Veejay Sai, an expert on the musical and cultural traditions of India. He told me of another very important aspect of saawan. Veejay said that themenhdi or henna leaves bloom at monsoon time and that is why the red colour of menhdiis associated with this season when women are engaged in the hectic activity of applying henna.
That thought brings to mind the scene from the 1978 film Junoon where Dipti Nawal and Nafisa Ali are shown enjoying the rains in a mango orchard..

Khil gaye hatheli par memhdi ke boote
Lachkat jhoolan pe daar
Dhaani chunar sar pe naa thahre
Choodiyaa’n kare’n jhankaar
Saawan ki aayi bahaar

The Nawabs of Awadh hosted mehfils where visitors sang songs in praise of saawan. Thumri is an important semi-classical musical genre that was born and nurtured in Awadh. It was sung during the season. Swings were put up on mango trees to enjoy the moisture laden breeze after the still heat of the summer months and those who were experts in creating beautiful patterns on the hands of maidens with crushed menhdi leaves were most in demand at this time of the year.
India is a veritable treasure house of a rich musical and cultural tradition inspired by all the seasons enjoyed by the region.
Apart from the songs of joy there are soulful lyrics expressing the anguish of the separation from home, hearth and loved ones of migrants and landless labourers who are forced to earn a living far away from home. Their condition inspired songs of love and longing and of these my favourite is a now almost forgotten genre of kajri of semi classical singing of the thumri family.
The word kajri is from kajal or kohl which the maiden applies to beautify her eyes in preparation to meet her lover, hoping that the clouds will also unite the skies with the earth in the much desired rainfall.
The kajri style of singing is said to have originated in Mirzapur, Eastern UP. Originally sung by a woman named Kajli whose lover did not return to her, the dejected woman is said to have thrown herself at the feet of Goddess Kajmal, imploring her to bring him back.
Ghir ke aaye badariya Rama
Shyaam bin sooni sajariya hamaar.

Mohammed Afzal wrote:

Raseeda barsram hangaam-e-barsaat
Sajan pardes hain, haihaat! haihaat!

During the monsoons young brides and wives were often sent back to their parents home while husbands were busy with the planting and tilling of fields. Far away from the beloved the lover found solace with her sakhis or friends who teased her brooding moodiness.

My favourite and the most popular one when I was growing up was:

Kaise khelun jaiyyo saawan maa kajariyaa
badariya ghir aayi goriyaa

The unlucky ones left alone in her sasural with unfriendly, hostile in laws would moan:

Amma mere Baba ko bhejo ji, ke saawan aaaya
Beti tera Baba tau boodha ri, ke saawan aaya

Immortalized by Amir Khusrau, the verse never fails to bring tears to the eyes at the thought of a lonely girl looking up at the gathering of dark clouds and seeing a similar darkness in her own life.

Box
Anything for monsoons!
Have you ever wondered why Indians will do anything to seduce the monsoons to come?
Monsoons are so important to all agriculture dependent people here that they will do anything to seduce the clouds to burst. Even if it means ploughing parched fields without wearing any clothes.
There are age old rituals that are performed to appease gods when the rains are tardy. The most seductive of all rites involve women who take to the plough and rake parched fields during a full moon night without any clothes.
Once menfolk fail in attracting rain bearing clouds women take over the task of seducing the rain god. The women gather in groups with plough in hand and sing in praise of Indra Dev till the clouds thunder in to burst upon them.
A traditional belief is that the celebration of a wedding of frogs causes rain fall.
Rain is important here because when monsoons are delayed the fields get parched and crops singe away, leaving no food for the rest of the year.

(appeared in Lucknow Observer July 5, 2014)

http://lucknowobserver.com/saawan-ka-mahina/

http://lucknowobserver.com/saawan-ka-mahina/

Though no longer extant, a huge lantern on top of the Rumi Darwaza would light up the structure at night making it look absolutely fabulous. The exquisite carved flowers on the sides of the arch were little water jets. You can imagine the effect of these tiny fountains.
The architectural style and eye for detail in Awadh under the Nawabs can be seen here.
Being an entrance to the city of Lucknow, Russell, the reporter of The New York Times who accompanied the victorious British army that entered Lucknow in 1858, after India’s First War of Independence, had called the stretch of road from Rumi Darwaza to Chattar Manzil the most beautiful and spectacular cityscape that he had ever seen, better than Rome, Paris, London and Constantinople.

British Library – Shelfmark: Add.Or.266 1860
Unknown artist