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A Peek Into The Aliabad Sarai

By Tazeem Akhter. Dated: 10/14/2012 4:51:49 PM

We stood, iced up at the highest point on the Mughal road, Pir-Ki-Gali, eyes darting from one mountain to another. The sinking temperature, the high altitude, the low pressure, the cool breeze- all pooled together at 3490 metres above Mean Sea Level (MSL) ; the Ziarat on one side with hundreds of people thronging to have ‘Sattu’ in salty tea and the ‘Acharya’ army post on the other side of the road, with army men from Tamil-Nadu serving their bit .
The sun shone brightest emancipating no warmth; the dry grass blanket covering the meadows, gave the picture an altogether different hue; the peaks stood all exposed , waiting for the snow to clothe them soon; the crows cawing over the empty ‘Dharas’ of nomads, the shops selling all packaged items at prices double than the actual. And tea sold at Rs 30 per cup. It does cost high, cooking at high altitude, after all. The unsubsidized LPG will further raise the price, my mind started calculations.
Visiting the place, a second time, did arouse feelings of visiting ‘Aliabad Sarai’, a few kilometers ahead into the Shopian district. And we did. As we progressed, trees started appearing on far-away peaks, contrary to the tree-less meadows, back. Shabbily dressed little trans-humans and women riding high on their decorated horses, passed, on their way back from the ‘Dhoks’, guided by their turbaned and bearded and well-built men. We halted near a tiny stream to have our lunch there; the ice cold water tasted sweet, though water is thought to be tasteless. Ashraf, a Poswal boy, on his way back from Dubjian to Thanamandi, smiled, when he saw me clicking his huge flock of sheep. I smiled back in gratitude.
Hardly 800 metres ahead of that stream, a look deep below at the right hand side, provides an excellent view of the ‘Aliabad Sarai’, resting silently over a lofty podium, on the shores of another glacier fed stream, at the feet of a mountain with yellowish-leafed trees. The green turf on its roof, adding a camouflage affect, with the heart throbbing green clicks of nature, around. The path from that point appeared to be very vertical and thus difficult. Plus, another small stream needed to be crossed, so as to reach the ‘Sarai’. So, we decided to turn back a kilometer and trudge down from a not-so-steep trail. But that was not easy, either. The weathered rocks on the path slipped with every step, we took. The grass was too slippery. The thorny little bushes pricked hard. And it was too tiresome.
Once we reached the tableland, on which the ‘Aliabad Sarai’ rests, I could see the old route, used by the great Mughals, between Lahore and Srinagar. It’s reduced to small pedestal path these days, since very few trek these higher reaches, with the incision of Mughal road. On the right side of the Mughal Sarai, is a graveyard, with about 60 identifiable graves, possibly of the people of the royal caravan, who died during the journey- the only souls guarding the place. On the left side is a broad open lush-green ground, almost the size of two football arenas. ‘Aliabad Sarai’ was one of the 14 Paraves (halting stations) on the 246 long route between Lahore to Srinagar. Emperor Jahangir got it constructed in the last leg of 16th century. He had ordered an Iranian engineer Ali Mardan Khan for its construction. And local Rajas and Mughal Governors aided him in the erection.
The rear of the ‘Sarai’ is easily accessible; thanks to the people who placed some stones and used them as steps to reach its roof. I climbed over it in no time. The green turf was too soft, yet the roof firm. I advanced ahead and got an idea of the geometrical-based design of the building; for which the Mughals are known. A perfect square, with two out-grown domes, on the front and the back side. Very similar to ‘Chingus Sarai’ yet unique and smaller in dimensions. The stones used, are the local sedimentary rocks bound together with ‘Choona-surkhi’; thousand times stronger than the concrete used today. The cover of the front dome has been hollowed; rest of the ceiling is still intact. A round over the roof spoke of the dilapidated condition of the royal resting place. I scaled down and moved towards the entry of the Sarai. A royal aperture with smooth slabs, perhaps from Awantipora, lining it in a beautiful manner, but the door missing along with a few slabs. There are two small rooms, on each side of the gate, perchance, for the gatekeepers. Opposite to the entry area, is a set of three interlinked royal rooms, may be, for the emperor and his begum. Then there are 26 other rooms, with the rhombus like corner rooms, interconnected. The left and right of the ‘Sarai’ are divided into seven equal compartments; while the front and the rear in nine compartments, including the entry area. And over the door of each compartment, was an arched lattice carved out of stone, left partially in one or two. They have been broken or stolen too.
The floor lays deep buried in the dung of the huge flock of sheep and herds of cattle of the nomads: Gujjars and Bakarwals, Pallas and Vyoparis, who have been using the royal resting place as a shed. The pungent smell is enough to choke your breath, if you stay for more than 15 minutes. The Carcass of a buffalo’s skull and of a goat, lie in the centre. The plaster of the wall peeled off, the fortifications left exposed, telling their own story; defaced walls with the writings of the few lot and a small portion away from human reaches, shining in crimson red coat.
Time was running out. I left the place and started to trail the uphill course. As I reached the Mughal road, a furlong above, I saw it one last time. And my eyes welled up to see, how beautiful it is, and how ignored it is. And as we crossed the ‘Lalghulam Bridge’ on way back to Pir ki Gali, a thought cropped up in my mind: when lakhs of crores of rupees are being spent on conservation of heritage buildings, not a single penny has been spent to restore this royal Sarai; just three signboards are erected, one of which slumbering in front of the Aliabad Sarai and the other two on the road. Its restoration, I hope, will now be in the priority list of the government. Moreover, a path should be well-constructed from the road to the Sarai, supported by iron-grills on both sides, for anchorage. If the place is developed at par with other heritage buildings of the country, it will magnetize a great number of tourist crowd, and thus boost the economy of the state.
(The author is student of Government Degree College, Poonch)