Hyderabad: Chowmahalla Palace

Date of visit: 21th Feb.

We had a little misadventure on our way to the palace, the lessons of the day being that taxi drivers does not always know where they are going, even if ordered from a reputable taxi company recommended by locals, and contrary to common sense, sometimes it is best not to use the fare meter. Our dear driver took us the long way round, tripled the distance we needed to travel and doubled the agreed fare for the sake of 'avoiding the traffic driving through downtown'. Thankfully, Ben was firm enough to stand our ground. we paid the initially agreed amount and left.

I would freely confess that the experience did soiled my mood until we entered the palace. Before long, the tranquility of the once royal residence overrode all other emotions.

Walking through these long sunlit corridors under the ivory structures, this was one of the most welcoming royal abode I had been to, relative to all the magnificent if foreboding fortresses. If there is any indication of past bloodshed, I did not felt it here. This felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven and above all, a home - a place of rest.

Between the simple yet elegant corridors, a fountain ran along the courtyard, flanked by blossoming plants. In the warm afternoon sun, gardeners tended watered the plants, spraying rainbows from their hose.

Pink flowers and burnish dead leafs sat lazily among the dominating algae far from the gushing fountainhead.

At the four corners of the pool, decorated cannons stood. Each sported different designs of animal motive. The most elaborate and well preserved one was furthest from the entrance, towards the left.

Not sure if these are Nagas, dragons, crocodile or something else.

Less detailed fishes adorned the other cannons.

The afternoon breeze set verdant leafs rustling as we ambled our way towards the central palace complex.

The innumerable pigeons roosting among the royal rooftops took flight as we neared, their fluttering wings adding a layer of melodies to the splashing water.

The age of the buildings became apparent upon closer inspection. However, what is remarkable is how the details in both stone and wood still hold up.

A clock tower, with its still dutifully functional clock sat to the side of the main complex. The wooden banister right beneath the clock, high above the ground, hung precariously with some nails missing.

Above the clock tower, a spectacular display of light rays was in performance. Angelic beams broke forth through the passing veils. Perhaps it was only after that day that I started paying attention to such occurrence that were in fact very common in Hyderabadi late afternoons.

Chandeliers glistered high above the Nizam's throne. An array of collections, from historical accounts and pictures, personal treasures to ornaments and weapons were on exhibition in the ante-chambers.

A lone tree stood alone on the field leading deeper into the complex where 2 more palaces and more fountains awaited.

It was between the main palace and these decorated archways that we encountered our second incident of the day. 3 girls, I would venture between 8 to 12 lived on the building right outside the palace's 2 stories-high walls. The girls shouted and pleaded with us coyly with their black shawl-covered head, bobbing enthusiastically above the walls. Between their seemingly innocent giggles, a love letter thrown at us, which they insisting that we read, and their cries of 'Mommy is not at home', I beat a hasty retreat through the archway, passing beyond their view and earshot. Looking innocent and angelic as they may be, these are either bored mischievous kids picking on foreign tourists who happen to stumble into their backyard regularly or succubus with much more sinister intent.

The back palaces had other beautiful things installed.

Yet at the far corner of the final courtyard, where the Nizam's cars were on display, 3 boys, much younger, in the age-range of 5 to 8, their leaning against the metal railings of their balcony in an upper-story flat built right outside the white walls, were busy trying to get our attention too. With the sun setting and a return trip to Charminar awaiting us, we took this as the cue to leave.

The fading sun set the white palace aglow with a warm fire.

Maybe this is why the Taj Mahal and a number of Hindu temples we saw were constructed in unblemished white - so that the Indian sky would drape colors far richer than paint over these beautiful structures.