Arguably the most exquisite example of Mughal architecture is the magnificent Taj Mahal in India, built by emperor Shah Jahan in the 17th Century. What few visitors to South Asia may know is that there are lesser known examples of his building legacy in Pakistan; among them a lovely mosque in Thatta, the ancient capital of Sindh that is also the site of one of the world’s largest examples of a necropolis, a “city of the dead”. That makes Thatta a tantalizing option for exploring off the tourist trail.
Fourteen years ago I was a Resident Research Fellow at Dalhousie University’s Centre for Foreign Policy Studies in Canada, as well as a Senior Research Fellow at Pakistan’s National Centre for Maritime Policy Research, in Karachi for a conference on “The Human Face of Marine Piracy” at which I would speak and then edit the Proceedings.
It has been my lifelong habit when travelling overseas for professional reasons to stay on for a few additional days at my own expense and get to know a little of the people and place. Thanks to the hospitality of Pakistani friends on previous visits I have, among other things, explored Islamabad and Karachi, spent a couple of days at the controversial port of Gwadar near the Iranian border, witnessed the unique border ceremony at Wagah Crossing and attended the Lahore Literary Festival. So, when I arrived and friends posed the inevitable question – where are you going this time? – the answer was easy. Thatta.
I have long admired Mughal art and architecture, which reached its peak during the reign of Shah Jahan (1592-1666). Although I’ve not yet had an opportunity to visit the splendid white marble Taj Mahal where he and his beloved wife are buried, I have been to the tomb of his great-grandfather Humayun in Delhi, which had established the Mughal style seventy years earlier. Somewhere I had read that Shah Jahan built a mosque at Thatta and so set out to learn more. In doing so I found references to nearby Makli, one of the largest “cities of the dead” in the world.
Thatta is in the Indus Delta, about 100 kilometres east of Karachi. I had been prepared to catch a bus but wiser heads among my Pakistani friends pointed out that would not be wise given the security situation at the time (they were too polite to say “stupid”). A generous friend arranged for a car, driver and English-speaking companion. And off we drove.
The Mosque
In Shah Jahan’s day, when your Dad said “I’m gonna kill you” he really meant it. The young 30 year-old had rebelled against his father and taken refuge in Sindh where he was treated well. Twelve years later, when Thatta was severely damaged by a flood, the now emperor expressed his gratitude to the people of Sindh by building them a new mosque. Construction was completed in 1647.
Approaching the entrance through the understated charbagh garden, the building is unassuming at first glance, but on entering the spacious courtyard the dominant impression is of space and the combination of muted vermillion brickwork and blue tiles, said by UNESCO to be “the most elaborate display of tile-work in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent.”
From ground level you can see only five large domes on what looks to be a flat roof but there are, in fact, ninety-three. That creates a remarkable acoustic effect which allows prayers said at the mihrab (the niche in the wall facing Mecca) to be heard throughout the building. There is an excellent illustrated description here, and a brief video tour here.
Makli Necropolis
A four kilometre drive across town, the ruins of the great necropolis spreads across Makli hill. From the southern entrance it stretches as far as the eye can see. An estimated half-a-million graves from the 14th to 18th Centuries are scattered over ten square kilometres, in varying states of decay. They range from simple slabs to elaborate shrines commemorating royalty, officials, saints, scholars and humble folk. The monuments at Makli are on UNESCO’s World Heritage List of places deemed to have “outstanding universal value.” If you want to take a tour without leaving home you can watch a 20-minute documentary produced by Sindh’s Directorate General of Antiquities & Archaeology here.
On The Road Home
On the drive back to Karachi I got a droll reminder of why my Pakistani friends insisted that I not take the bus. When we stopped for fuel and stepped out to stretch our legs, my host casually laid a pistol on the hood of the obviously “VIP” car to ensure that no one bothered us. But as it was, my smiles were returned with the usual polite friendliness that I experienced when just blending in.
If I’ve learned nothing else from my travels it’s that people are people the world over. The overwhelming majority of us, even in the poorest of countries, are welcoming to courteous strangers. Of course we need to do our homework, respect local advice and be cautious, but never paranoid. As one of the pioneering female admirals in the US Navy once said, “A ship in port is safe; but that is not what ships are built for.”