Delhi may not boast the most heavenly weather in the country, but it does offer some paradisiacal gardens where the city’s past finds refuge among ancient monuments and sage-like trees. In their new book, Gardens of Delhi, historian Swapna Liddle and writer Madhulika Liddle guide readers through the architectural, landscape, and horticultural histories of Delhi’s exquisite gardens. “I would not have been able to write about historic gardens without knowing about horticulture from my sister Madhulika,” remarks Swapna on why the sisters decided to collaborate for the book.
The project began when photojournalist Prabhas Roy approached Niyogi Books with his series of photographs capturing the capital’s green spaces. The variety of gardens dispersed across the city consolidated into a book and supported by well-researched historical narratives from archives, beautifully and powerfully highlights the wealth of nature and antiquity that casually resides in the capital.
Past greenscapes
Over the past two years, the Liddle sisters have visited each garden at least once, and some gardens multiple times, to conduct an intensive study of the trees and flourishing natural life. The old bargad at Qudsia Bagh, the Ashokan edict in a Kailash Hills park, the remnants of a Tughlaq garden behind Basant Lok, Shalimar Bagh famous for its Ber tree orchards where Aurangzeb was crowned and Indraprastha Park, built over a landfill, would not have been accessible in a single read if not for this book.
“People in Delhi are interested in gardens; this book is a way for them to explore each garden slowly, visit them, and think about them differently,” they say. Although not designed as a garden, the Mehrauli Archaeological Park has also been covered as “on its peripheries are important gardens—Jharna and the other, Nazir ka Bagh,” says Swapna.
There wasn’t a fixed criterion for selecting which gardens to include other than the photographs taken by Roy, which initially structured the list, and later, the green spaces with significant landscape design value and historic relevance. For instance, everyone knows about the Red Fort but nestled within it is a grand architectural garden with pavilions overlooking the Yamuna built by Shah Jahan.
“The Hayat Baksh Bagh is an important example of garden design principles that couldn’t be missed,” says Swapna. She adds: “Historian Ebba Koch writes that the large garden inside the fort underlines the idea upheld by the Mughals, that the Mughal emperor, being a shadow of God on earth, presides over the paradise-like garden. The paradise in the Quran is a garden, so the fort itself becomes a sort of paradise.
There is an inscription in the fort that shows the centrality of the garden in fort design—it says the Hayat Baksh Bagh is to these buildings what the soul is to the body, and the lamp is to an assembly.” Hayat Bakhsh Bagh might not fit our image of the garden today as the original horticulture doesn’t remain, but it is still important, underlines Madhulika.
Dreaming of a garden city
Reminding readers that the book also serves as a walk through the history of Delhi’s development as a city, Swapna explains that “contrary to Pradip Krishen’s account in Trees of Delhi, Sunder Nursery, now a popular recreational space, wasn’t established to supply plantations for Lutyens New Delhi. Instead, it was created shortly after independence to support new government colonies, private colonies and refugee colonies such as Lajpat Nagar, Rajindra Nagar, and Patel Nagar, all planned to accommodate Delhi’s burgeoning population.”
Madhulika elaborates: “Plants were needed for avenue trees, individual gardens, and new complexes being developed.
Percy Lancaster, a notable British horticulturist in India, experimented with various trees for these avenues and even started a monthly bulletin called Garden Chat in 1949 for Sunder Nursery subscribers, offering seasonal gardening tips. I recall reading about someone seeking advice on dealing with porcupines damaging their garden—porcupines in the heart of Delhi are almost surreal today.”
During Lancaster’s time, Sunder Nursery, where TMS met up with the Liddle sisters, was also a garden that supplied fresh fruits and vegetables, such as onions and pumpkins to neighbourhood residents on order. “In many ways, the nursery was like our Blinkit, in fact much better than it,” Madhulika says, giving an insight into thoughtful, sustainable, and accessible initiatives in the city’s planning history that were ahead of their time.
Anotherinteresting garden discussed is the Rose Garden on Shantipath, adjacent to the Railway Museum, where the Rose Society conducted experiments to develop hybrid rose species. “If I want to see interesting trees, I visit Talkatora Gardens or come to Sunder Nursery,” Madhulika says, painting a picture of pathways adorned with magenta Moulmein Rosewoods, the wilderness area of Sunder Nursery featuring yellow Caribbean Trumpet flowers, and skunk trees with heart-shaped seed pods.
The idea of a formal garden accompanied by a wilderness or forest-like orchard is present even in Mughal garden design, says Swapna. “One can observe this in Shalimar Bagh”, she says, adding that “water systems are indispensable to the grand gardens of Delhi. During Shah Jahan’s time, gardens were situated along the Faiz Neher, an offshoot of the Ali Mardana Canal. He had brought it to Delhi to water the streets of Shahjahanabad and the gardens. The Roshanara Bagh and Shalimar Bagh are placed along its route”.
A critical eye
In the context of today’s climate crisis and water inequality, it would be absurd to use huge amounts of water for gardens. “New gardens that are being planned should incorporate native trees that adapt better, use less water, and rethink garden landscapes suitable for the dry ecology of Delhi,” says Madhulika. Her essay towards the end of the book illustrates at least three trees being felled every hour, failed transplantations, new exotic species replacing fallen native mature trees, and lack of visitors at biodiversity parks such as the Aravali Biodiversity Park, Sanjay Van, and the Tilpat Valley Biodiversity Park.
The book offers a comprehensive guide to beautifully designed gardens in Delhi and encourages readers to venture out and discover these spaces for themselves. Although not explicitly stated, the book subtly advocates for a critical perspective on gardens. “We have numerous historic gardens in the city. Instead of focusing solely on those in central Delhi, we should expand our efforts.
Why not organise regular programmes for school students to raise awareness about the ecology and history of the city’s gardens? Why not allow artists to display their work at the pavilions of Jharna in Mehrauli Archaeological Park? It’s crucial to creatively transform these sites into free and active public spaces for cultural and social events, addressing the deficit of public spaces in Delhi,” says Swapna.
No one knows when the next book on the gardens of Delhi will be written, but this one by the Liddle sisters meticulously promotes a culture of visiting gardens and parks. It encourages readers to indulge in nature and history, for the sake of it, while appreciating their value and legacy.