We were driving through a dusty little town called Sira, looking for the remains of a province created and controlled by the Mughals in the 17th Century. It's believed that Aurangazeb's daughter was buried here, and that the palaces in Sira, built by governor Dilavar Khan were the inspiration behind the palaces of Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan in Srirangapatna and Bangalore.
However, all that we saw were a few rusty buildings, a handful of shops, pigs jostling for space with cows, and a few autos on the road. It was hot, and the nondescript town seemed to have no resemblance to the erstwhile capital city of a province that had controlled the entire Carnatic region, south of the Tungabhadra river.
No trace of grandeur
An auto driver agreed to be our guide, and we followed him down the dusty lanes. We went looking for Dilawar Khan's gardens, the model for Lal Bagh in Bangalore, but all that we found was a neglected public park. There was hardly any trace of the Mughal grandeur, except for an ancient Juma Masjid in the middle of the town. We were lost in a world where the path took us down slums and wilderness as we discovered old tombs.
Sira seemed to have been a hot seat of power. The Bijapur Nawabs had ruled it for over 50 years before the Mughals conquered the region. The Marathas and Mughals have been waging wars as Sira was once ruled by Chatrapathi Shivaji's father.
Hyder Ali titled himself as the Nawab of Sira only to lose it to the Marathas, but when Tipu Sultan finally re-conquered it, he is believed to have taken with him families from here to his new capital in Srirangapatna. The Nayaks seemed to have had some sway, although some of them maintained a friendly alliance with the local governors. Some of the monuments left behind by these rulers seem to resonate with the power struggles.
We drove down to see the remains of a fort, built by Rangappa Nayak and later strengthened by the Bijapur Nawabs and Mughal governors. Overlooking a lake, the crumbling walls, the pillars adorned with sculptures, and the moat were all calling out for restoration.
An ancient dargah, believed to be the tomb of revered governor Mallik Rehman or Hazrath Mallik Rehan Rahmatullah Alai, was our last stop. The caretakers largely spoke Urdu, and I was told Aurangazeb's daughter was buried along with other followers of Rehman. “However none of their names is mentioned anywhere,” said Shahida, who lived close by with her family.
It was late afternoon and the sun was mercilessly shining down on us. As we drove down the highway, we realised that another historic town by the wayside was forgotten.
