Bhagmati: Why Hyderabad’s Lost Queen Is the Soul of the City, by Moupia Basu, delves into the history of Hyderabad with the rigour of a scholar and the sensibility of a poet. She is keenly aware of the limitations of documented history since the texture of the past is preserved by legends, folklore, hand-me-down tales, the character of a place, and the very way of life of a people. Though the unverifiable, often emotional, remnants of our temporal roots are not backed by hard evidence, they cannot be dismissed as mere hearsay or a figment of people’s imagination. Understanding the past is not simply a question of unearthing facts and building a picture of a time through those “solid” findings. The history that resonates with Hyderabadis seems to have a softer edge. Basu succeeds in writing a book that, despite being rich in historical data and records, is suffused with the spirit of the syncretic city of Hyderabad. It speaks as much to the heart as to the intellect:
Hyderabad is no one community’s fiefdom. The city belongs to its people – all its people. They keep the flame of brotherhood simmering. A common cultural identity comprises the character of the city. Hyderabad is not any particular community’s religious or linguistic inheritance.
Examining a legend
The prose is delectable and, in places, even lyrical. Basu’s book is an ambitious work because she seeks to minutely examine a legend, which may or may not be (entirely) based on actual events, by mining historical records and accounts like an adept scholar. Bhagmati grapples with a legend that presumably has its roots in history. This folk tale is fodder for much speculation and intellectual debate. The legend goes back to the very foundation of the city of Hyderabad by Sultan Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah. Built four hundred years ago, the city was “a thriving, throbbing symbol of life representing the bond of eternal love”. It is believed that Quli, at the age of fourteen, fell in love with a devadasi named Bhagmati the moment he laid eyes on her. His father, Ibrahim, was alarmed by this infatuation. But when Quli, overpowered by his concern for Bhagmati’s safety, defied the elements and rode across the turbulent Musi river, Ibrahim gauged the depths of his son’s love. He built a bridge across the river to make it possible for his son to meet his lover without resorting to such daredevilry. That’s supposed to be the story behind the Purana Pul in the old city of Hyderabad. Though the bridge was built in 1578, this lore continues to capture the imagination of Hyderabadis.
Basu waxes eloquent about Muhammad Quli’s sublime passion for Bhagmati, a Hindu woman of humble origins deemed unfit to be his wife. Legend says that Quli defied opposition to make Bhagmati his queen, naming the city founded by him after her. Though this is a subject of debate, Basu provides enough evidence to lend credence to the belief that the original name of Hyderabad was Bhagnagar/Bhagyanagar, which can be interpreted as a nod to Bhagmati as well as a reference to bhagya or fortune (the city of fortune). Reports by travellers also use the name Bagnagar/ Baghnagar, which can be translated as “the city of gardens”. Incidentally, this was an accurate description of the lush green cityscape.
Despite many and varied accounts about Bhagmati, she continues to be an enigmatic figure. If she was indeed the historical personage depicted in folk tales, she was clearly not given her due. The book points to the possibility of Bhagmati’s name being deliberately erased from official records because she was of common stock, and that too a dancer. It is another matter that she probably had the skills and substance to justify her elevated position if a justification is needed to be married to your beloved, whether he is a sultan or a common man:
Whether she was a devadasi or a nautch girl, legend has it that Bhagmati was intellectually gifted and talented, famed for her skill in playing musical instruments, singing and dancing and for being both literate and fluent in Telugu, Dakhni and Persian. … If true, this made Bhagmati Muhammad Quli’s intellectual equal, but her faith and her position in society worked against her.
In collective memory
Though she was not acknowledged as a part of the royal lineage, she couldn’t be erased from public memory. The story of the interfaith romance between a royal figure and a commoner is close to the heart of Hyderabadis and has been passed down from generation to generation. It is in the very bloodstream of the city’s inhabitants and is given pride of place in their collective memory.
Whether it is just a story or a nugget of history – or a myth that carries a grain of truth – its hold over people’s imagination can be, at least partly, credited with laying the groundwork for the city’s composite culture. There would, of course, have been many factors that contributed to the spirit of coexistence in Hyderabad. I, however, share Basu’s passionate conviction that this origin story is of great importance to the social fabric of the city. There can be no denying the uniting force of a carefully nurtured lore that reveals a primal, undeniable truth: love brooks no barriers of religion or social status. Basu conveys this with characteristic flair:
The historian [Dr Mohammed Safiullah] … argues that Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah mentions many women in his works, but not Bhagmati. “Why would a sultan leave alone some of the most beautiful women in the world and fall in love with a local commoner?” he asked rhetorically.
I wanted to tell him that this is how love works! It is an emotion that doesn't consider caste, creed, religion or class.
Bhagmati is a romantic take on history. It is an ode to love – the strongest foundation for any city or country.
Bhagmati: Why Hyderabad’s Lost Queen Is the Soul of the City, Moupia Basu, Westland.
