The palace
The plaintive cry of a peacock shatters the morning silence. Like a ghost in the mist, a rose-pink palace hovers over the parkland and the dew-dabbed grounds. The crunch of polished boots is heard on the gravel path leading up to its arches. The palace, built between 1900 and 1908, is now the Sainik School, Kapurthala, and boys on the brink of manhood are lined up for morning drill — their turban peaks pointed, trousers sharply creased. Much before it became a prepping ground for a career in the armed forces, the building was a testimony to the love of Maharaja Jagatjit Singh and his fifth wife, Anita Delgado (Prem Kaur), a Spanish flamenco dancer. The high-ceilinged 108 suites are now classrooms. I tickle the keys of a piano that must’ve been played at many glamorous parties. The Durbar room, now the library, has the coat of arms set into the parquet floor. Patterned after the palace of Versailles and Fontainebleau, its wrought-iron lamps, Renaissance-style balustrades, Sevres porcelain and Gobelins tapestries made it among the most grandiose palaces in India.
The club
It stands at the corner of Mall Road, the Greek architecture seemingly incongruous in the midst of new-age homes. The Jagatjit Club looks a little run-down — stacks of plastic chairs are tossed on the verandah. It is getting a fresh coat of paint and there is a fine layer of dust on the fluted columns that rise above the broad steps. The main building resembles the Parthenon at Athens, with its triangular pediment bearing the coat of arms of the Ahluwalia dynasty of Kapurthala. The emblem comprises an elephant on the left and a horse on the right of a shield, holding a breastplate with a cannon engraved on it and a Latin phrase — Pro Rege et Patria (For king and country). The inside is surprisingly modern for such an old building. There are snooker tables lit by low-hanging lamps and card tables with green baize stretched tight across their teak frames. A badminton court marks its boundaries on a polished wooden floor and a large dining hall stands to the rear. The club has, at various times over the century, been a cinema hall and even a church.
The mosque
This is Kapurthala’s answer to the lattice-worked mosques of Alhambra. Inspired by the Grand Mosque of Marrakesh, the Moorish Mosque stands in a quiet turn of the busy main bazaar. The mosque is deserted except for the imam who shows us around. A marble plaque outside declares that it was built at a cost of four lakhs by Maharaja Jagatjit Singh between 1926 and 1930. Inaugurated by the ruler of Bahawalpur, the mosque was built as a symbol of tolerance and solicitude that Singh extended to his subjects. The mosque now sees only a few Muslim visitors from Malerkotla, the majority of Muslims from Kapurthala having crossed over to Pakistan during Partition. The pink-and-white mosque has sparrows twitter from its eaves, and squirrels frolic in its marble courtyard. Beyond its vaulted verandahs where namaz is offered, is a decorated inner dome designed by artists from the Mayo School of Art, Lahore. The ASI has labelled it a protected monument; much of its charm lies in its filigreed architecture, quiet splendour and the main tower lancing a bright winter sky.
