A view of Manimajra town. (Express Photo by Jaipal Singh)
When the makers of Zero Dark Thirty, the Hollywood film on the international manhunt for Al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden, were looking for a locale that could pass off as an old, mofussil town of the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP), they homed in on Manimajra.
Described as a “small historical town of Chandigarh” by Wikipedia, its labyrynthine alleys make it the most dense area of the city with three municipal wards and with a population of more than 1.5 lakh. The area spawning over 950 acres of which 500 acres have been developed, is now the biggest sector of the City Beautiful.
Manimajra is as different from the main city as chalk from cheese. While one is a model of planned development with separate areas demarcated for business and residences, Manimajra is a tapestry of lean roads with speciality markets frequented by thousands every day. Here, almost all houses have shops at their front with entrances to the residences from the rear.
Condition of the Manimajra fort has been deteriorating day by day. The walls are decaying and weed growth is visible on the walls (Express Photo by Jaipal Singh)
The tall structures, raised on areas as small as five marla with extended balconies have a direct morning view of the ruins of the grand Surajpur Fort that locals call the Manimajra Fort. Standing at almost the centre of the new sector, the fort is a constant reminder of the area’s rich history.
The older residents, who still have clear memories of the past, talk fondly of their tumultuous past, the fight for freedom from the British, the independence, and the birth of Chandigarh, founded as a balm to the wounds of millions rendered homeless during Partition. A group of people sit together, replaying their fondest memories, pointing towards trees and shops, that have stood mute testimony to history for hundreds of years.
Jagtar Singh Jagga, Deputy Mayor and councillor from Manimajra whose family has lived here for several decades, says the ficus tree outside the Thakur community centre was once at the centre of a huge lake. Talking fondly about the Manimajra village, Mohit Thakur remembers “all houses were single storied and almost alike. We used to hop on from roof to roof for kilometers, playing and running around. Nobody had high walls or even grills”.
The village is now a bustling sector housing several residential complexes such as the Modern House Complex, Uppal Marble Arch, and Rajiv Vihar besides an array of schools such as Gurukul, DC Montessori School and RMIT.
The Maharani’s grandson
For Lt Col Harjinder Singh Sarao (retd), 95, a resident of Sector 19, the fort is a childhood memory. Orphaned when he was all of six months, Sarao was adopted by Suraj Kaur, his grandmother, and the maharani of Manimajra.
Sarao has vivid memories of living and playing in the fort. “My room was on the first floor which of course now lies in a dilapidated state. Maharani Suraj Kaur had an adopted son, Barjinder Singh, whose son was also named Harinder Singh like me and later went on to become the maharaja of Faridkot,” says Sarao. His name was then changed to Harjinder Singh, as “two children in the household having the same name, was a problem”.
Maharani Suraj Kaur spent the year shuttling between her various homes. “She used to be about six months at the Faridkot fort, three months at Manimajra, a month and a half at Mashobra and a little over a month at Haridwar. I would go everywhere with her,” recounts Sarao.
Sarao remembers how the Maharani and her retinue would take a special royal train from Faridkot to Chandimandir railway station from where they would hop on to horse-driven tongas and reach the fort. “Manimajra was the only big ‘kasba’ at the time and the road connecting Ropar and Kalka went through Manimajra. Another gravel road joined Ambala to Manimajra. A well, dug deep inside the fort, supplied water to the whole area of Manimajra. Chandigarh was just a group of villages, wasteland and some agricultural fields at the time. We saw it grow.”
Today the fort lies in ruins. Locals complain that it’s become a hangout of youngsters up to no good. “The area is very big. Nobody checks it. Though a caretaker lives inside, students and youth from far-off come and indulge in drugs here each night. It’s commonplace to find bottles of liquor and cigarettes.”
The locals say in 2002, the then Punjab governor visited the fort and suggested that it be converted into a heritage site, but returned upon realising it was a private land, now under the trusteeship of Meherwal Khawaji Trust.
Meanwhile, members of the trust claim the fort will be restored to its previous glory once the ongoing case in the court is resolved.
From a village
While many think the surrounding village got its name from the fort of Manimajra, it is the other way round.
Built over 350 years ago, the fortress was originally called the Surajpur Fort. According to many locals, it was Raja Bhagwan Singh Brar of Faridkot who first began to show interest in it. This land was lying barren and only a few people used to farm here. Almost a kilometre away was a village called ‘Manaa’ with almost 70 families. Brar went to the people of ‘Manaa’ and told them to shift here. He provided them with land, shelter and helped them start their farming. Then he started building this fort. People who came here from ‘Manaa’ were called ‘Mani’ and the village was named Manimajra.
Om Prakash Gupta, 90, whose house lies next to the fort, says, “Initially only 70 families came here. The king then brought people here from Firozepur and gave them homes, shops, and even helped them set up their trade. Soon, it began to specialise in iron work.”
Back in time
The area had four gates, including Samadhi gate, Mori gate and Darwaza gate, erected at four entry points of the village.
Jagtar Singh, whose house was the first after entering from the Darwaza gate, says, “We had a huge haveli. I still remember we used to have a room at the entry of our haveli which was only for guests, and anybody who knocked at the Darwaza gate at any hour was welcomed and fed before being offered that room.”
The village, one of the biggest in at least 50 km radius, was frequented by people from as far as Ambala, Kalka and Ropar, for shopping. “We were the central market for hundreds of villages. At that time, several sectors of now Panchkula, IT Park, Sukhna Lake, Mansa Devi all fell in our ambit. It is we who gave this land to the people of Chandigarh,” says Jagtar.
He says the fort even had a long tunnel connecting it to Mansa Devi. “As children we used to play in it but now it has been closed.”
Locals believe that Manimajra has been blessed by its kings and queens. “This land has never let anybody return empty-handed. People who live on the land are blessed with fortune. Anybody who comes here even for a visit, ends up living here. There is no outsider who has not been able to build his home here. They have all found success here,” beams Gurdeep Singh, 75.
That is why old-timers would recite, “Mani Majra puri, aaya do din vaaste, reh gaya udi.”
Partition and peace
Partition came and went but the flames of hatred did not singe the people of Manimajra. Janak Singh, 85, regal in his white kurta and blue turban, remembers how the Sikhs and Hindus had protected the Muslims at the ‘Mata Raj Kaur’ gurdwara. “There were buses of dead bodies that would arrive here from Pakistan. Everybody was so scared. When the Muslims of the area decided to leave for the fear of being harmed, the Hindus and Sikhs went to each of their houses and took them to the gurdwara. All of us protected them. I still remember there was only one family that left. All the other families stayed on. Such was our brotherhood. There was no bloodshed here.”
It is a tradition that continues to thrive. Janak Singh says, “People of all castes and creeds live here in complete harmony. The Muslims of the area still come to the gurdwara before any important occasion and the Sikhs and Hindus visit the mosque. In fact, in those days, the Muslims of the area used to recite from the holy Guru Granth Sahib, while the Hindus recited Ta’zieh, before the Moharram procession. We still do.”
Markets of Manimajra
The area continues to be a treasure trove of markets. Until recently, it claimed to host the biggest motor market of Asia. With more than 200 shops for repairing, denting, painting and motor part accesseories, the market is always abuzz with cars of both the VVIPs and the hoi polloi.
Then there is the famous gold market which has more than 100 shops. Krishan Lal, 72, whose family has been operating a gold shop in the heart of the market since independence, says, “My family shifted here from Gurdaspur during Partition. My father used to craft the ornaments with his own hands, so did I and and my son.” Krishan Lal claims to have customers who come from far reaches of Punjab and Haryana. “The people who used to buy gold from my father, now buy it from me. Their sons and daughters still come to my shop,” he says.
The market is also a hub of several shops that provide tent and catering facilities to banquets and farm houses across the Tricity. It also boasts of shops selling grocery, and crockery et al at wholesale rates.
The meat shops here claim that they supply to the who’s who of the city besides five-star hotels such as The Lalit and Taj.
Row over Sector 13
Most people here are against rechristening Manimajra as Sector 13, a number unlucky in western numerology.
Prem Chand Bhalla, 37, bristles, “Manimajra is much older than Chandigarh. If anything had to be renamed, it should have been Chandigarh. They do not give us any facility on the lines of Chandigarh. Only renaming will not help.”
Shiv Kumar, 65 says, “Thirteen is considered unlucky. They could have easily named it 26-A or something. Just like Panchkula has its Sector 12A. There were a lot of options. I don’t know why they called it 13.”
Surendra Kumar, 47, also voices similar sentiments. “What is the use anyway? We will still call it Manimajra only. Furthermore, what is the point of including it in Chandigarh. It is a planned city and we are an unplanned village. There is no cleanliness here, no roads, electricity wires hang loose and police do not even step inside. The administration seems least bothered about what goes on here.”
Krishan Lal, 72, says, “We do not like the number. It is considered ashubh. Even the ones who designed it did not use it.”
But Jagtar Singh Jagga, the councillor of the sector, says there is a method to the madness. “Earlier, Manimajra earlier was not receiving any grants by the corporation as it was neither a village nor a sector. We were only a ‘notified area committee’. Renaming Manimajra to ‘Sector 13 Manimajra’ has made history. The Governor himself said that until now, no sector has been given their original name. We will now start getting funds for large-scale development of the sector.”
Jagtar also pooh-poohs the belief that no. 13 is unlucky. “Guru Nanak has used the word ‘tera’ numerous times. Naming the sector after the word, will bring it luck and prosperity.”
The way ahead
According to Jagtar, now that Manimajra has been made eligible for funds from Municipal Corporation, he has asked for a budget of almost Rs 10 crore to be spent on it. “The area was recently provided water under the smart city policy. I will now work on getting the electricity cables underground among other things. We will also rebuild the community centre on the lines of a three-star hotel.”
Manimajra still has almost 500 acres of vacant area which, Jagtar thinks, will soon be bought by multi-national firms, hotels and residential apartments as the prices of the land will increase and people will want to settle in the area.
Urdu all the way
All the old land and revenue records of the area are written in Urdu, as these were penned by the Muslim majority that lived here. Although the people of the area identify themselves as ‘Punjabi speaking’, the records reflect them as ‘Hindi speaking’. The locals blame it on an officer who wanted the area to fall under Haryana instead of Punjab.