The Delhi Government Tourism Department’s three-day Monsoon Fair at Mehrauli, in imitation of the ones that used to be held during Mughal days, witnessed classical dances, dastangoi, qawwalis, the rendition of Malhar or the raga of the rainy season, swinging on rope jhoolas, good food, and fun and games.

One result of pollution and the scanty water in the Yamuna is the virtual end of the annual swimming fairs, like the one at Okhla. The Delhi Gazetteer of 1883-1884 recorded the number of fairs in Delhi at 33, though originally there were 104, which included (besides the bathing ones) mostly those in honour of local deities, the pankha melas, the Moharrum processions and the Urs at various shrines.

Among the fairs that attracted both Muslims and Hindus were the Tairaqi Melas, started by the Mughals, when the river was full and flowed right under the walls of the Red Fort. Nets had to be thrown in it to catch crocodiles that were swept thither by the flood. There may be some exaggeration in such accounts, though it is a fact that occasionally crocs found their way to Macchliwalan, the fish market near the Jama Masjid. Here oil was extracted from their carcasses and, like their skin and teeth, fetched a high price, along with the snout that was mounted by taxidermists for the drawing rooms of the nawabs. Until the late 19th century crocodiles were found basking near the Purana Qila in winter.

Swimmers from overseas

Here is an account written in the mid-20th century by my father, Agra: Rambles & Recollections of Thomas Smith: “For most Delhiwallahs the swimming season begins with the onset of the monsoon and not at modern swimming pools. There was a time when swimmers floated on their backs with iron spits on their chests on which kababs, paranthas and jalebis were fried. In Moghul days the art of swimming reached its zenith with Tariaqs (swimmers) from Turkey, Iran, Armenia, Central Asia and Afghanistan coming to compete here. A noted swimmer from Agra was given the title of Mir Macchli by Jahangir...When Jahangir...was initiated into the sport, tons of roses were thrown into the Yamuna, then in flood. A similar story is told about Shah Jahan, which only goes to show how popular river swimming was in those days...”

Upto the early 1940s there were four swimming fairs on the four Thursdays of Sawan. Parties from the Walled City marched to the river to the beat of drums, headed by a flag-bearer (the Nishan Nashin), and singing the songs of Barsat (the rainy season) of poet Nazir. There were separate groups of Muslim and Hindu swimmers. For the former the Ustad was the chief and for the latter the Khalifa (colloquially pronounced Khalipa). This was strange since the word Khalifa has Arabic origins and got converted into the Anglicized Caliph. How was it then that a non-Muslim group had adopted it? One reason could be that in former times the trainers of both communities were of Turkish descent and so when Ustad became popular with one group, the other one decided on retaining Khalifa.

The beating of the drums

The groups returned home with the drums beating again and the Nishan fluttering in the monsoon breeze to cries of “Nare Taqbi” and “Har har Mahadeva.” But if a group lost a swimmer then the drums were not played and it trooped home silently. Because of this fear little girls and boys were posted on the road to bring word to the zenana women that all was well. Later, kheel-batasha or sweet nuktidana (boondi) were distributed.

There wasn’t much swimming at the recent Monsoon Fair but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to introduce it next year when the Yamuna overflows its banks.

The writer is a veteran chronicler of Delhi