Day 6 in Pakistan: The Highlights of Lahore

With a population of over fourteen million, Lahore is the second largest city in Pakistan and one of the largest urban centres in Asia. Although it has been continuously inhabited for millennia, it rose to prominence in the medieval period, when it served as the capital of the Hindu Shahis, the Ghaznavid Empire and the Delhi Sultanate. Lahore’s greatest blossoming took place under the Mughal Empire, when Emperor Akbar ordered that a palace be built in the city and moved his capital there from Fatehpur Sikri. His son Jahangir was buried in Lahore, and his grandson Shah Jahan was born there.

Lahore fell into somewhat of a decline after it was conquered by Nader Shah in 1739 on his Indian campaign. After that, the city changed hands multiple times between the Afghans and Sikhs, even coming under Maratha occupation for a brief period. The Sikhs finally came into full possession of Lahore in 1799 and made it their capital, although the empire’s spiritual centre remained in Amritsar. While the Sikhs halted and even reversed Lahore’s decline to some extent, they plundered much of the city for its riches and building materials. To this day, many plaques and information boards around Lahore invoke the past splendour of tombs and temples despoiled after the fall of the Mughals. In 1849, Lahore was annexed by the British Raj and served as the capital of British Punjab. It would go on to be the site of the Declaration of Indian Independence, passed by the Indian National Congress in 1929, as well as the 1940 Lahore Resolution, which called for the establishment of Pakistan.

I began the day by calling a taxi to Delhi Gate at the southeastern end of the Walled City. This is perhaps the most visited of Lahore’s gates and the most historically significant. From the gate, I continued on foot through the old town, which had barely begun to wake up at eight o’clock. A few cleaners had just begun their daily Sisyphean struggle against the garbage coating the roads, while the barbers shuffled around their clients seated in plastic chairs at the intersections. It had rained the previous night, and the autorickshaw drivers carefully waded their way through the huge puddles left behind. Those who were not working sat around on the kerbs or in the back seats of their parked cars eating breakfast.

I passed by the colourful Wazir Khan Mosque on my way to the fort, and then by the fort itself as it had not yet opened. I walked all the way to the Minar-e-Pakistan, which stands at the centre of a park and which, crucially, marks the site where the All-India Muslim League passed the Lahore Resolution, laying the groundwork for Pakistan’s founding in 1947. Once the sun started to come out, I returned to the fort.

Lahore Fort is impressively large, consisting of two grassy quadrangles and a massive park, as well as numerous gardens. Practically all the buildings at the fort were under renovation when I visited, but this did not detract from their beauty. Across the fort, I visited the Badshahi Mosque, constructed in the 1670s by Aurangzeb to commemorate his military campaigns in southern India. Aurangzeb is often portrayed as the last truly great Mughal emperor, following whose reign the Mughal Empire went into rapid decline. He is blamed for overextending his empire and for failing to prevent a devastating war of succession between his three sons. Due to his partial reversal of the religious tolerance that typified previous Mughal emperors, India and Pakistan have very different interpretations of his legacy.

I left the area with the fort and mosque early in the afternoon, calling a taxi to the Data Darbar Shrine. When I arrived there, however, I was told I was not allowed to bring my camera inside and would have to leave my bag with the guard. Because I was carrying not only my camera but also my wallet and passports, I politely refused and drove off again. I did not regret this decision much, as I saw from the outside that the shrine was undergoing very significant works, which seemed to involve the erection of completely new structures.

My next destination was the Shalamar Gardens. Constructed by Shah Jahan in the 1640s, the gardens are a combination of wooded areas and waterside gazebos, attracting large crowds on warm and sunny days. Despite the abundance of trees, the quadrangles follow a strict pattern, with water features separating the two large squares into four equal parts. Nevertheless, these water features were all turned off during the time of my visit, presumably to save water and costs.

Having reached the end of my itinerary for the day well before I had anticipated, I had a choice to make: Either I would go see the lowering of the flag at the Attari-Wagah border with India, or I would eat into my programme for the following day and figure out something else to do afterwards. I reasoned that going to Wagah would be a whole ordeal and that waiting perhaps two hours for the ceremony to begin was not the best use of my time. Plus, it just felt like an activity that was better enjoyed with company than alone. I thus decided to catch a taxi all the way to the mausolea north of Ravi River. My taxi driver was of the opinion that these were not very interesting – certainly not as interesting as the flag lowering ceremony at Wagah. However, he reassured me of his bad taste when, among the best things to do in Lahore, he enumerated a number of shopping malls.

The main tomb complex north of the Ravi River consists of the tombs of Emperor Jahangir and his brother-in-law Asif Khan. Whereas Emperor Jahangir’s mausoleum is a wide red building with arcades and four Mughal-style towers, the mausoleum of Asif Khan struck me as much more Central Asian with its octagonal base and bulbous dome. Just a short rickshaw ride away I reached the tomb of Nur Jahan, the wife of Jahangir and sister of Asif Khan. The tomb is essentially a smaller version of Jahangir’s and has no towers, which is rather insulting as Nur Jahan practically ruled the country while her husband gave himself to hunting, drinking, and opium.

Before heading back to my hotel, I ate dinner at a rooftop restaurant one of my hosts in Islamabad had recommended. Its main attraction was its view of the Badshahi Mosque, but this view was dearly purchased in terms of both money and health, as the terrace was right downwind of the grill and I could not draw in two breaths without feeling the carcinogens building up in my lungs.