The doomed domes

A beautiful, carpeted road stretches for about 13 kilometres, connecting River Saifan to Batapur Lahore. On one side of this road, the BRB canal flows, flanked by tall trees at both ends, while on the other side, small villages and fields come into view. I became familiar with this road a long time ago when my younger brother and I used to ride our bicycles along it. I still vividly remember the early morning rides, where we encountered a variety of birds and rare species. The Bee-eaters and Indian Rollers would gracefully fly in front of us, fearlessly greeting us with their presence and signaling the arrival of a new day.

Bhaini, a small village that dates back to the pre-partition era, consists of only a few houses and is located approximately six kilometers along the Batapur-Saifan road. A few months ago, I discovered the existence of an old structure in the vicinity of Bhaini. Last Sunday, I decided to visit this place with one of my friends.

As we entered the village, we noticed a cluster of trees just outside its boundaries. It turned out to be the Bhaini graveyard, with a tall, 20-foot-high ancient structure situated at its center. This structure takes the form of a semicircular arched gateway, featuring an indentation in the main wall that serves as a Mihrab, indicating its connection to a mosque. On one side of the Mihrab structure, one can still observe the remains of brick grooves, indicating the presence of an adjoining front wall that has been eroded by the passage of time. In front of this structure lies a small courtyard, with a grave positioned in the center. The locals utilize this space for both prayer and funeral rites. Constructed with Nanakshahi bricks laid in kankad lime, the Mihrab still bears traces of the once magnificent fresco work that adorned its interior. Its grand scale suggests that this mosque must have been an awe-inspiring sight during its prime, dating back at least three to four centuries.

As I stood there, many questions arose in my mind. What had happened to the rest of the mosque's structure? How did it come to be demolished?

After much contemplation and speculation, I managed to find some possible answers to unravel this mystery. This site is located a mere four kilometers from the River Ravi, which has changed its course over time. A couple of decades ago, I witnessed the most severe flood of my life here, with the River Ravi coming dangerously close to overflowing the ring road. It is likely that the floodwaters eroded the walls of the mosque's structure, leaving only the intact Mihrab behind.

Another theory that emerged is that this site lies within four kilometers of the Indo-Pak border and was within range of Indian artillery fire during the 1965 and 1971 Indo-Pakistani wars. It is possible that the main structure of this mosque was destroyed during those turbulent times.

As we prepared to leave, my mind was filled with a multitude of thoughts. Where is the mind that conceived this mosque? Where are the hands that constructed it with such devotion? Where have the foreheads gone that once bowed before the Almighty within its walls?

Oh, my Lord, with these hazy thoughts lingering, we slowly moved away, and the mosque gradually disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a sense of awe and wonder.