I HAVE seen the treasures of the Turkish Sultans at Topkapi. I have gaped at the British Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. I do not exaggerate when I claim that these world famous collections pale before the fabulous exhibition of the Nizam of Hyderabad-Deccan’s jewellery that I saw on my recent visit to Delhi. Deccan, by the way, means south. It’s necessary to add this word simply because Pakistan also has its Hyderabad, the one in Sindh.
As by descent I am half Hyderabadi, I had often heard people in my nanyaal reminisce nostalgically about their former homeland and the fantastic wealth of its ruler. Tales of gold ingots galore and cellars brimful with precious gems, however, left cynical Karachiite me unconvinced. In my childhood, I was often told that the jewels of Mir Osman Ali Khan, the seventh and last Asaf Jahi Nizam of Hyderabad Deccan was “the best collection of jewellery in the world.” Sceptic that I am, I scoffed at my grandmother’s claim that the Nizam’s pearls were enormous in size — “as big as marbles.” Her fading memories of Hyderabad seemed all Hyderabadi hyperbole, more fiction than fact.
Then, while reading the bestselling Freedom at Midnight (I hated the book — its so anti-Pakistan!) I came across a particularly intriguing sentence in the chapter on the maharajas of Princely India: “The Nizam’s jewels, a collection so enormous, it was said, that the pearls alone would cover all the sidewalks of Picadilly Circus...”
What? How many pearls would that be? In total disbelief I excitedly ran to grill my beloved Nani amma. She firmly insisted that there was no exaggeration in what I had just read. “The Nizam of Hyderabad was one of the richest men in the world,” she loyally declared. “His jewels were priceless.”
Dearest Nanoo, rest in peace. You were right all along. The jewels that you were adamant the last Nizam possessed, do actually exist, they are not a figment of your patriotic Hyderabadi imagination.
The Nizams Jewellery exhibition that opened in Delhi on August 29 this year left me dazzled, dazed, speechless. Yes, the lustrous Basra pearls of the royal sath-lara (a typical Hyderabadi seven-strand necklace) were bigger than marbles. Yes, the drop emeralds were huge — as large as fat green grapes. Yes, the Imperial (or Jacob) diamond that the last Nizam was reputed to use as a paperweight, was there. The exhibition’s piece de resistance, it is white, flawless and a blindingly bright 187.75 carats in weight. The fifth largest diamond in the world, it is said to be worth over Rs 400 crores today.
Other pieces, particularly the Asafiya regalia, jewels used for ceremonial occasions, are equally invaluable. The famed auctioneers Sotheby’s and Christie’s evaluated them for 162 million pounds sterling in 1991. Apparently, the Sultan of Brunei and the Greek shipping magnate Stavros Niarchos were among the several buyers keen to acquire these fantastic jewels. It says something about Prince Mukarram Jah, that instead of yielding to the highest bidder, he agreed to give his grandfather’s dynastic treasures of 225 years to the government of India rather than dispersing them among foreign buyers. As there was a court battle for some 16 long years, I seriously suspect that (in true Mafia style) they probably made him “an offer he could not refuse”!
On their dastars or formal conical shaped turbans, the Nizams of Hyderabad use to wear a jewelled plume or aigrette, a turban ornament called the sarpech. Of the several on display, an ornate ruby-and-diamond one was truly stunning, the glittering emerald-and- diamond aigrette absolutely awesome.
The sixth Nizam, Mahboob Ali Pasha, seems to have been extra fond of bagloos, the traditional jewelled belt worn by men on the Hyderabadi court dress. His favourite, aptly labelled “Bagloos Almaas” has more than 245 fabulous diamonds weighing over 640 carats. Apparently his son, Mir Osman Ali Khan, the seventh and last Nizam, preferred collecting to wearing jewellery.
The majority of the pieces in the Nizams Jewellery collection are set in the Mughal style, huge cabochons in front, exquisite minaakari or floral enamel finish at the back. Some, however, have modern settings — brilliantly cut diamonds and faceted gems — that is typical of Western jewellery.
Though I can confidently say that every single one of the 173 items on display was a fantastic example of the jeweller’s art, some really do haunt one’s memory. The emerald Hyderabi lachcha, labelled “Chintak Zamarrud,” was gorgeous enough to die for. A pair of amulet (taveez) armbands, set with brilliant green Colummbian step-cut emeralds, edged with old cut diamonds that originally belonged to Tipu Sultan, the Tiger of Mysore, were fabulous. The several sath-laras with their staggering “samosa” diamond clasps recall the last Nizam’s obsession with storing pearls by the sackful in his cellars. Like their original overlords, the Imperial Mughals of Delhi, the Nizams of Hyderabad-Deccan were all inordinately fond of pearls. Even today, Patther Gatti, the street of pearliers, is a prime spot for natural sea-water pearls in their former capital, now the capital of the state of Andhra Pradesh.
Sapphires, emeralds, rubies, diamonds — polished, carved and faceted by human skill. All truly magnificent, all gleaming with the patina of centuries. I really have no metaphors to describe the size and lustre of these gems. Simply awesome — all have to be seen to be believed.
According to the exhibition catalogue “these jewels are only a mere fraction of the Hyderabad treasury believed to have been worth over US $5,000 million.” That, in today’s exchange rates is well over two thousand crore Indian rupees. Largely because of their income from the fabulous diamond mines of Golconda which yielded the legendary Kohinoor diamond, the Nizams’ treasure was unfathomable. Before the De Beers company started mining in South Africa, this was the most prolific diamond mine in the world. What is on display is just a small sample. Phew!
The venue of this truly memorable display was India’s National Museum, a very impressive colonial sandstone building. The security was horrendous — grim guards toting guns, electronic surveillance, concealed cameras and ubiquitous infra-red beams — all very reminiscent of the famous Melina Mercouri jewellery heist film, Topkapi. Only 50 people at a time were allowed into the fortified gallery, and that after being thoroughly body-searched.
The jewels will be on show in Delhi till October. In November the Nizam’s Jewellery exhibit will go home to Hyderabad Deccan to the Salar Jung Museum. Finally, those of the former Nizam’s subjects who still live in the city will be able to see these amazing works of art.
Perhaps visitors to this marvellous jewellery exhibition will be reminded that even though Osman Ali Pasha, the last and seventh Nizam of Hyderabad, was maligned as a miser, he liberally kept 11 percent of his state’s budget for education, that he insisted on primary schooling and free education, and that he founded Osmania University, a reputed institution of higher learning.
I HAVE seen the treasures of the Turkish Sultans at Topkapi. I have gaped at the British Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. I do not exaggerate when I claim that these world famous collections pale before the fabulous exhibition of the Nizam of Hyderabad-Deccan’s jewellery that I saw on my recent visit to Delhi. Deccan, by the way, means south. It’s necessary to add this word simply because Pakistan also has its Hyderabad, the one in Sindh.
