Inside the Lahori gate, a tall,
elegant curvilinear spire of a Hindu temple adorned with intricately designed Rathas
on all faces, raised on fluted pillars perched atop with architectural embellishments
and prowess. The temple is hidden amidst the new urban construction of the Walled
city of Lahore. This architectural marvel still stands tall, whispering tales
of the past.
The temple takes its name
from Lala Nihal Chand, who served as a contractor for the colonial government.
A few months ago, I
received a heartfelt email from Mr. Raghav Nayyar, a direct descendant of the
esteemed Lala Nihal Chand. His grandmother holds the proud title of being Lala
Nihal Chand's granddaughter. In his message, he expressed his appreciation for
my blog and shared his passion for our shared history in Punjab. He mentioned
how few internet sources document the beauty and multicultural history of the
region.
Currently residing in the
US, Raghav expressed his desire to visit Delhi whenever possible and his
ultimate wish to explore Lahore and Gujranwala, the cherished homes of his
family before the partition, in beautiful Pakistan. His curiosity about my
experiences led him to inquire if I had the chance to visit the Lala Nihal
Chand Mandir during my excursions.
As Raghav and I exchanged
words, I couldn't help but feel the strong connection he had with his ancestral
heritage. The temple's significance in his family's history is evident, with
its picture proudly displayed on his wall.
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| Picture of Mandir Shared by Raghav |
After three attempts, I
finally set foot inside the magnificent Lala Nihal Chand Temple, nestled near
the Lahori Gate. The present owner, unfortunately, wasn't too welcoming to
visitors, but my determination prevailed, and I was able to explore this
remarkable edifice firsthand. As I embark on writing an article about this
architectural marvel, I turned to Raghav Nayyar for assistance in unraveling its
historical background.
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| they are shops and resident quarters on entrance of temple building |
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| The entrance arched gateway turned into shops |
Raghav told me that his Nani has shared with him a few of her memories. He requested her Nani sibling who is older than her for more details.
Here is a transcription of my Nani's memories about
the mandir. Most refugees don't speak about their life’s pre-partition. My Nana
spoke about his life in his final years.
What I like most about this story is it shows
Muslims and Hindus coexisted and befriended each other in this beautiful city.
I am grateful that you visited the temple, and that it still exists.
When we were
young, we used to come from Racecourse Road to pick up our father from Sutar
Mandi, where he used
to sit for his batik to listen to all the people around him, all problems they
are having. We used to
visit the mandir also, almost every day, to do our puja and all that as children.
There used to be a
masjid also next door. The road used to be with bricks, a small road street,
all the red bricks were
there. There used to be a Bagchi, known as a small garden. In between there
used to be a walking place
and both sides were the Bagchi.
And when my
father he passed away in '57, June they held a puja for him. All the people
from there got together
and did puja for my father. He was so well-known and so caring for everyone. No
one has any problem
with him at all.
I don't
remember the mandir's name. My father's name was Rai Sahib Narsingh Das Chopra.
Mandir I am
talking about in Lahore. That was known as Lala Nihal Chand Chopra, who built
the mandir. It
used to be known for our family mandir. He was my grandfather. He passed away
at a very early age
also. His Samadhi is also there in the mandir. We all almost every day used to
go to puja. My mother, my
auntie all of them used to go every second day.
There used to
also be a Pandit ji named
Khushi Ram, and he became a very close family member. We used to go and see the masjid sometimes
because my grandfather had built a kua (well) and his name should still be there. We used to
have such a good relationship with each and every one. Never had any problem.
So, in
addition to the mandir, my grandfather built a haveli also very close by in the
same area and there used to be
another building where I still remember as a child my father used to go listen to all the people's problems. It
used to be beautiful, ceiling and the worth seeing that part of it also.
Then my Nihal
Chand, my grandfather, had a Katra Nihal Chand where there used to be I
think 107 houses or
something on his name.
One of the
community members who used to do dye business used to dye the clothes in
Sutar Mandi itself, but he
lost his father. One evening, one afternoon we came around 4 to pick him, my
father. He says no, I won't be
able to come back with you children as I have to go for something. And my
father put his pagri, his
saafaa pagri in the buggy and says you go back home and send whatever Tonga,
buggy, car, whatever is
there. Send it back to me because I have to go and attend the ceremony. And he
was so caring for
everyone, he never realized who was from which religion, which place but
everyone used to be part of our
family.
Very sweet of
Ali. God bless him.
You can't
imagine how much I used to remember our Sitla Mandir whenever a child with
measles or chicken
pox. After the recovery, we will go there to take the blessings. Used to be in
one corner of the road.
After picking
up our father from Sutar Mandi we will stop to buy fried pakora from dariwala at
the corner of the street and
used to be so many stalls of fruits and buy fruit from there. Still, remember once I was wearing pink
color orange, and a cotton fabric frock. They ask me how beautiful the dress is
looking and started talking
around them. Later on, advised by family, girls are not supposed to do all
that.
Khan Sahib,
our very close and good friend, used to go to Mussoorie Hill station together. The perfect human being.
He saved my father, and after the partition, my father came to Mussoorie. Can you imagine later on, he came to the Amritsar border with a few portraits of his grandfather, father, and other family members, three big paintings
from the mandir also.
By the end of Jan
1957, Khan Sahib passed away. My father really cried. His best friend has gone.
We started
school, at Sacred Heart, then Sir Ganga Ram school. All my sisters and younger
brother used to go there early
morning and three Maali used to
come with bouquets of flowers for our class teachers.
Tonga, two,
and one buggy will take us to school very close by, on Jail Road only. My older brothers used to go to St
Anthony School.
Every Sunday, the band used to play on Mall Road, on the mall.
Every Thursday
I do remember Mia Mir to get his blessing. Can't understand why I have
so much faith in
all the gurus. The Lahore
temple had the statues of Ram, Sita, Lakshman & Hanuman. Pandits would do
puja daily and
local residents of Sutar Mandi would attend. Dussehra time was the big event
annually.
July 16, 2023
It was heartwarming to see how he and his family
were eager to connect with their roots and shared such great details with me. As the stories unfolded, my heart swelled with
gratitude for being able to witness the remnants of this glorious past. The
Lala Nihal Chand Mandir, though time-worn, still stands tall, preserving the
memories of an era when love, harmony, and coexistence were cherished values.
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