In ‘Gardens of Delhi’, Swapna Liddle and Madhulika Liddle document Delhi’s bouquet of gardens

Rajnish Wattas

‘Three things oppressed us in the land of Hind — its heat, its violent winds, its dust.’ Such was the lament of Babur, the first Mughal emperor, when he reached India. And thus sprouted one of the greatest landscape traditions of the world, the Mughal gardens.

‘Gardens of Delhi’ encompasses not only the city’s Mughal Gardens (now known as Amrit Udyan), but its entire gamut of typologies, ranging from the pristine to the contemporary. A work of painstaking documentation and research, it showcases their histories, flora, fauna and other elements too. Brilliant photography catches the poetry of changing light and colours of the seasons.

The history of Delhi is a palimpsest of ancient settlements overlaid with Islamic Sultanates, Mughal conquests and the British Raj. Buried beneath every ruin, crumbling edifice, wall or a rampart is a glorious narrative. “Delhi’s climate is not naturally conducive to lush vegetation. With a fairly low annual rainfall, which is moreover concentrated in the monsoon months, the natural vegetation of Delhi is described as semi-desert,” say the authors. They then go on to describe the subsequent landscape transformations undertaken by the various rulers during their times.

One of the most significant historical gardens of the city, the 90-acre Lodhi Gardens, are planted with as many as 130 tree species, both indigenous and exotic. Special mention of one of the tallest trees of Delhi, Buddha’s Coconut, and an old heritage mango tree, highlight their historicity. Vivid descriptions of the architectural features of the various tombs located in the gardens complete the picture.

Mughal gardens in India had four essential elements — water for irrigation, display and sound; trees for shade; flowers for scent and colour; and music to delight the ear — giving shape to the Islamic vision of paradise on earth. Besides the ‘paradise gardens’, there was also the tradition of making elaborate tomb gardens. Humayun’s Tomb is a prime example of this genre. Its omission in the book has been done by the authors on the premise that in its present state, the vegetation is not authentic. While the original Mughal gardens comprised mainly cooling, shady fruit tree groves, the present plantation, tinkered by the British, has sprawling English lawns. Even if the original tree plantation scheme is no more, the quintessential charbagh with its geometrical layout of the water canals, pools and fountains is too significant to be ignored.

The Hayat Baksh Bagh in the Red Fort — with its geometrical elements of canals, fountains and water-chutes along majestic trees — completes the Mughal garden template. The ensemble of various royal pavilions and mosques inlaid with floral motifs on glistening marble pavilions makes it one of the finest examples of the genre.

For the empire’s overlords, the British built a grandiose mansion, called the Viceroy House, atop Raisina Hill. Designed by Edwin Landseer Lutyens, the architects were under pressure from the Viceroy to take “whispers from the East” and adopt the best of both Indian and western styles. The imperial horticulturist William Robert Mustoe, therefore, drew his inspiration from the Mughal Gardens of Kashmir, Taj Mahal, and even from miniature paintings of India and Persia, for planning the gardens for the Viceroy House, which too were called Mughal Gardens.

The various historical gardens covered in the book are Roshanara Bagh, Shalimar Bagh, Qudsian Bagh and Talkatora Garden. The post-Independence gardens include the Buddha Jayanti Park, Nehru Park, Sunder Nursery, Mehrauli Archaeological Park, National Rose Garden and Garden of Five Senses. Instead of architectural edifices, the newer gardens are imbued more with naturalistic elements, symbolic sculptures and art elements. Enrichment of Delhi’s urban biodiversity and ecology is achieved through greater emphasis on native and indigenous plantations.

Notwithstanding detailed descriptions and evocative photographs, sketch maps or drone pictures would have been welcome for better comprehension of garden layouts. Also, besides giving common names of trees, their scientific nomenclature would have greater authenticity.

But these are petty niggles in what is otherwise a marvellous collector’s item for every nature lover.

As Eugenia W Herbert writes in her classic ‘Flora’s Empire: British Gardens in India’: “First encounters with alien lands tend to focus on nature… Nature, however, is rarely left untouched. How it is conceptualised and managed and in the form of gardens and manmade landscapes are very much matters of history and culture.”

Gardens do matter.