There has been much clamour and sabre-rattling over Hyderabad of late. ‘HYDERABAD HAMARA HAI’ is an assertion of proprietorship, of rights and an implied ‘therefore-we-can-do-with- it-as-we-please’ relationship. Much like the Pandavas’ did with Draupati. And like her, Hyderabad was lost in a (loaded) dice game, once. She has been disrobed since. Just like then, this war is meaningless. It is a lose-lose war.
When Hyderabad Deccan was trifurcated, the city of Hyderabad had been the capital of the state for over 350 years. The people of Marathwada and North Carnatic had also invested in it for three and a half centuries. Why was it not considered injustice to take it away from them? And when an elected government legislated out of existence the Dakhi language and culture and never even accorded it the status of a dialect of Hindi, why was it not injustice? Since states were being re-organisation on linguistic basis, Hyderabad would become a Dakhni state, which the then powers did not want. Hence, Dakhni was not to be recognised. To this day it is spoken from Aurangabad to Raichur, from Gulbarga through Telangana and millions who emigrated. But it is not taught in schools and universities. Its rich literature and poetry is lost to the generation born after the fifties. Telugu movies do not depict Hyderabadi culture and refinement, they ridicule it. There are no heroes from Hyderabad in the new history, only villains. Those who gained from destroying the city have legitimised their actions through re-writing history in their own narrative.
There is another grand narrative of ‘development’ doing the rounds. One friend said, ‘It took us 57 years to bring Hyderabad to this level of development!’ I was stunned. Hyderabad was one of the best developed states (and city) in India during the British times, also its biggest princely state with an area equal to that of England and Scotland put together. It was never ruled by the British. It had cement roads, several modern hospitals – Osmania being cutting edge. It had its own railways and airways, irrigation canals, public and private and joint enterprises, industries (Paper, sugar, cotton, silk, leather, textiles, consumer goods from Allwyn, Bakelite Hylam, construction, infrastructure, etc. ), its own mint (the only one in India out of 632 princely states), its famine and flood management systems, its dams and reservoirs – which are still in use – and Osmania University which sent its students across the world to bring laurels. It was surplus economy with $1=Rs3.80 in Hyderabad currency. It had no scarcity of water and electricity.
The circumstances were such that the world was moving towards throwing away colonial yoke, getting rid of the feudal system and acquiring democracy as the panacea of all ills. We all had a vision of that paradise. Little did we know that the new dispensation would disempower and further divide people and create more poverty and loot the resources with such impunity! In 57 years, half the lakes have disappeared, land sharks, corporate houses, politicians and government officials have appropriated land and parks and public spaces, displaced millions of villagers making them destitute, demolished heritage structures, built without any plan, dug up roads, ruined its water management system…..the list is endless. Worst, harmony between people was destroyed.
Those who really care for Hyderabad, whose heart bleeds for the urban crisis that it is in now; those who have seen its lakes and mohollas (no colonies existed until migrants built them in regionally exclusive enclaves); those who have walked its covered bazaars in Patthargatti and its clean mandis, who witnessed the night-time washing of roads, those who played in its beautiful public gardens and watched fishermen going out on floats at dawn, to catch fish in Hussainsagar before effluents turned it into a death trap; those who lived in a truly cosmopolitan city made up of Arabs, Afghans, Persians, Africans, Parsis, Gujratis, Marathis, Gossains, Kayasthas and many others in perfect harmony; those who saw great scholars from across the world work and teach at Osmania University; those who experienced the richness of poetry and literature, of political diversity, of theatre and mushairas, of the Progressive Writers’ Movement, of the friendly neighbourhood intellectual who let all and sundry walk into his home every evening to discuss and debate on culture, religion, global movements, literature and philosophy in a civilised discourse without the loud, aggressive posturing we witness now; those who knew what words like ‘refinement’, ‘grace’, ‘hospitality’, meant to the people of Hyderabad; those who always took pride in its syncretism; those who loved its wondrous Dakhi language and cuisine, its Indo-Persian-architecture, its Himroo, Mushroo and Paithani weaves, its crystal bangles, its Bidri and Karimnagri crafts, its Nirmal paintings, its kundan jewellery, its Sufi shrines and its highly sculpted temples; all those who have experienced and passionately loved the unique character of this great city, do not say ‘Hyderabad hamara hai’.
They say, ‘HUM HYDERABADI HAIN’ . There is pride and belonging and responsibility in this assertion.
Cities don’t belong to people, people belong to cities.