Markets, monuments, and Mughal splendour: Experiencing Lahore beyond the clichés
Lahore isn’t just another historic city; it’s a living museum of Mughal architecture, colonial legacies, and vibrant bazaars. In just two days, the city reveals its grandeur, culture, and emotional ties to Bangladesh’s own history.
"Jinne Lahore nai dekhya, o jammiya nai"—I heard this Punjabi proverb several times during my visit to Lahore, Pakistan. Roughly translated, it means: Those who haven't seen Lahore might as well not have been born.
What is it about Lahore that makes people say this? The question stayed with me, pushing me to discover the city with my own eyes.
For Bangladeshis, Lahore is not just another historic city of Pakistan. It carries a direct link to our own history of independence. In 1966, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman presented the famous Six-Point demand here, later known as the "charter of freedom" for the Bengali nation. That moment, inseparable from our independence, cemented Lahore's place in our history.
Lahore was also the stage for a defining political moment in South Asia. On 23 March 1940, A K Fazlul Huq presented the Lahore Resolution at Minto Park (now Iqbal Park). It laid the groundwork for Pakistan's independence, and indirectly, the birth of Bangladesh after the partition of 1971.
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That was history. Now, it was time to see Lahore for myself. Over two packed days, I traced the paths I had once only read about, visiting the Shalimar Garden, National College of Arts, Lahore Museum, Lahore Fort, Badshahi Mosque, and the mausoleum of Allama Muhammad Iqbal. Along the way, I also found myself pulled into Lahore's vibrant markets and busy shopping streets.
National College Of Arts
On my very first morning, I visited the renowned National College of Arts. It was there that some of my long-held, stereotypical ideas about Pakistan began to fade.
Founded in 1875 as the Mayo School of Industrial Arts by the British Viceroy Lord Mayo, the institution was renamed the National College of Arts in 1958. Its original aim was to modernise traditional crafts and produce skilled manpower. Today, it stands as a landmark of Pakistan's art education.
The atmosphere was strikingly progressive. Students strummed guitars, sang, or debated animatedly in a coffee-house circle. Sculptures and murals dotted the campus, some so old their creators were unknown, but all were embraced as part of the college's heritage.
The architecture also caught my eye—red-brick walls, grand arches, and open courtyards blending Mughal-Saracenic and European styles. Architect Bhai Ram Singh had contributed to the detailed brickwork, fusing European forms with regional ornamentation.
At the National College of Arts, some of my long-held, stereotypical ideas about Pakistan began to fade
I also learned of John Lockwood Kipling, the founding principal and father of novelist Rudyard Kipling. The younger Kipling grew up in Lahore, and his experiences there are said to have shaped parts of his novel Kim (1901).
By the time I left the campus, my rigid, almost one-dimensional view of Pakistan had softened. Lahore, I realised, carried far more colours than I had imagined.
Lahore Museum
Just next door to the college stands the Lahore Museum. Its red-brick Indo-Saracenic building, also designed by Bhai Ram Singh, opened in 1894. Inside are around 60,000 objects spanning centuries of South Asian history.
The galleries lead visitors through time—from the Indus Valley civilisation to Gandhara, Hindu-Buddhist-Jain traditions, Islamic and Sikh art, Mughal paintings, manuscripts, coins, textiles, and even relics of the Pakistan movement.
One of its greatest treasures is the Gandhara-era Fasting Buddha, a world-famous stone sculpture depicting Siddhartha during his ascetic meditation. Every detail—the sharp ribs, hollow cheeks, and spiritual intensity—is rendered with remarkable precision.
Other highlights include Greco-Buddhist sculptures, fragments of stupa drums, Mughal miniature paintings, ancient Qur'an manuscripts, and exquisitely carved wooden doors from the Mughal and Sikh eras. Each gallery felt like stepping into a new world.
The museum is sometimes called Ajaib Ghar or "Wonder House"—a name immortalised in Rudyard Kipling's Kim, inspired by this very place.
Shalimar Garden
In the afternoon, I made my way to the Shalimar Garden, one of Lahore's most celebrated Mughal landmarks. Built in 1641–42 under Emperor Shah Jahan, it reflects the Persian charbagh concept—a "paradise garden" where all elements of nature coexist in harmony.
The garden spreads across three terraced levels: Bagh-e-Farah Bakhsh (Bestower of Joy), Bagh-e-Faiz Bakhsh (Bestower of Goodness), and Bagh-e-Hayat Bakhsh (Bestower of Life). Red sandstone and white marble pavilions, shaded verandas, and water channels enrich its beauty.
It once contained 410 fountains, many of which still function. In Mughal times, it hosted foreign envoys, royal ceremonies, and leisurely retreats. Today, it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and remains one of Lahore's greenest escapes.
By the end of Day One, I had covered the National College of Arts, Lahore Museum, and Shalimar Garden—all within a single day.
Lahore Fort And Sheesh Mahal
Day Two began at Lahore Fort, or Shahi Qila, spread across 20 hectares. Its origins trace back to at least the 11th century, though its present form is largely Mughal. Akbar began its grand reconstruction in 1566, and later emperors Jahangir, Shah Jahan, and Aurangzeb enriched it further.
Inside are 21 monuments, including the Diwan-i-Aam, Diwan-i-Khas, Moti Masjid, Naulakha Pavilion, and the most dazzling of all—the Sheesh Mahal (Palace of Mirrors).
Built by Shah Jahan for Mumtaz Mahal, the palace is adorned with white marble, pietra dura floral designs, and millions of tiny crystal mirrors imported from Syria. Locally called ayina-kari, the mirrorwork glitters under light, creating a dreamlike aura.
Tragically, Mumtaz died in 1631 before she could see the palace. Later, it became the residence of royal women, where music and dance entertained the queens. Beneath it lies the Pari Mahal (Fairy Palace), a summer retreat with ingenious cooling systems and fountains perfumed with rosewater.
Nearby stands the Naulakha Pavilion, built at a staggering cost of nine lakh rupees in the 1630s. Its boat-shaped roof, influenced by Kashmiri and Bengali styles, and intricate marble inlay echo the artistry of the Taj Mahal.
Together with the Shalimar Garden, the Lahore Fort was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1981.
Badshahi Mosque
Directly opposite the fort lies the grand Badshahi Mosque, commissioned by Emperor Aurangzeb in 1671 and completed in just two years.
Covering 276,000 square feet, its courtyard accommodates up to 100,000 worshippers—the largest mosque in the world at its completion. Its three white marble domes and eight minarets, combined with red sandstone and delicate inlay work, symbolise the empire's grandeur.
The mosque is also a marvel of acoustics. Without microphones, an imam's voice still carries across the vast courtyard. The domes and arches were designed to naturally amplify sound—a feat of Mughal engineering nearly 400 years ago.
Standing there, I felt the mosque was not only a place of worship but also a masterpiece of architecture, science, and devotion.
Mausoleum of Allama Iqbal
Beside the mosque rests Allama Muhammad Iqbal, philosopher, poet, and national thinker of Pakistan. In his 1930 Allahabad address, Iqbal articulated the idea of a separate homeland for South Asian Muslims—a vision that inspired Pakistan's creation.
When he died in 1938, Iqbal was buried here at his own request. His tomb, built with red sandstone and white marble, is inscribed with Persian verses from his poetry. A small garden surrounds it, offering peace and solemnity.
Markets of Lahore
After the historical explorations, I reserved evenings for shopping. At Liberty Market, branded stores line the streets, offering a comfortable shopping experience. By contrast, Anarkali Bazaar is crowded and colourful—its energy reminded me of Dhaka's New Market, where bargaining is part of the fun.
Walking through Lahore's landmarks felt like stepping back into centuries of history. The Mughal grandeur of Shalimar, the glittering mirrors of Sheesh Mahal, the sheer scale of the Badshahi Mosque, and the intellectual presence of Allama Iqbal—all came together as a living heritage.
By the time I left, I finally understood the meaning of the proverb: One who has not seen Lahore might as well not have been born. Lahore is not only worth seeing; it is worth remembering.
