Ayodhya puts troubled past behind, looks to present — for its future

It was that case in which a bench of the highest court unanimously ruled in favour of the temple in 2019.

From the time Iqbal Ansari showered petals on Prime Minister Narendra Modi when he came here last month to unveil the town’s new airport, its upgraded railway station and a slew of development projects, he’s had no respite from reporters knocking on the doors of his little house.

He knows why — the tyranny of the soundbite. “They want me to say something controversial. I have no time for reporters who try to dig up the past. That battle is over. My father and I had said long before the ruling that whatever the verdict, we will accept it. And the Supreme Court gave an order which we accepted.

There’s no point raking up the past,” he says.

“Ask anyone around. There’s no ill-will between Hindus and Muslims of Ayodhya. This is holy land. People come here from different parts of the country. Their gods are here. The Muslims of Ayodhya have never been stopped from any of their bhandaras (free meals for devotees), festivals…The town’s present and future is in vikas, forget the past.”

How do you forget the past in a town where history sneaks up on you in the narrow lanes? By looking ahead, says Bimlendra Mohan Pratap Mishra, scion of the erstwhile royal family of Ayodhya and a member of the temple trust.

“Ayodhya’s glory has returned (Ayodhya ka vaibhav lauta) and so has the self-respect (swabhiman) of the Hindus,” says Mishra, a leather-bound copy of the SC verdict on his table. “This temple is not about Ayodhya…Ram’s appeal has always been global… It has been a long struggle. And a five-judge bench of the Supreme Court gave a unanimous verdict in favour of the temple. The matter is settled. It’s over.”

On the street, Ayodhya’s transformation has been rapid. The hum of electric buses and e-carts has replaced the staccato bursts of the smoky Vikrams. The narrow road that cut through the heart of town, forking past decrepit buildings and overflowing drains, has given way to a four-lane thoroughfare called the Ram Path, a 13-km stretch from Saadatganj in adjoining Faizabad to Naya Ghat on the Saryu river.

Encroachments, mostly shop fronts, have been cleared to widen the road. Work’s underway to make it a corridor with a uniform facade for buildings on either side, in peach and saffron, and brown boards with names of shops in white letters.

The Ram Janmabhoomi Path is the new approach to the new temple. There are also the Dharma Path and Bhakti Path. The winding lane from the Hanuman Garhi crossing that climbed up to the then disputed Ram Janmabhoomi-Babri Masjid site, past the Raj Dwar temple and the Amawa Ram temple, no longer exists, replaced instead by a wide stretch lined with shops selling temple souvenirs, trinkets, ladoos, pedas, Gita Press books.

This area, like the rest of Ayodhya, was for long a decaying urban sprawl. It was here in October-November 1990 that police fired on kar sevaks trying to force their way past barriers – the official death toll was 16.

Two years later, an army of kar sevaks returned and razed the Babri Masjid on December 6, then raced against time to build a makeshift temple on the debris mound before melting away.

That single act, which lit flames and deepened the communal divide, froze Ayodhya in courtroom battles until November 2019 when the Supreme Court made its decision, clearing the decks for the construction of the Ram temple.

In the town today, there’s a generation that was born around or after that turbulent phase. Mohammed Azam, 35, was a child then, too young to remember the violence that convulsed the town, and many parts of the country. He has stuck to the family trade – of handcrafting khadaus (wooden slippers) for sadhus and sants frequenting the temples.

“My father, forefathers made khadaus. And I am doing the same – mine is the fifth generation in this trade, and I want my children to take this forward. The front portion of my shop was demolished during the road-widening work. I am getting the repairs done, so business is down. But I sit in my room and make khadaus to meet orders from Pratapgarh, Allahabad, Jaunpur, Deoria.”

“Some people ask me why should a Muslim be making khadaus. I always say why not? People who buy the khadaus go back happy and I sell it cheap, knowing that those who wear these are holy men who have very little money. So these are priced up to Rs 100 a pair,” says Azam.

The lack of hotels and the rush for the inauguration has led to the sprouting of homestays – around 600 such lodgings have come up in Ayodhya. The city and adjoining Faizabad are counting on speedy construction of hotels, and the influx of tourists, not just pilgrims, via air and rail to boost incomes. “The new Ayodhya Dham railway station and the Maharishi Valmiki International Airport should be the springboards for the town’s development. The coming months will provide a clearer picture” says Sharad Kapoor of Shane Avadh, one of the two hotels in Faizabad that used to be the haunt of reporters and photographers covering the Ayodhya developments in the 1990s.

Faizabad is now part of Ayodhya and the Faizabad railway station has become the Ayodhya Cantonment station. The talk in town is about the temple in Ayodhya and all that should follow. After all, it was here that the Nawabs of Awadh established their first capital.

Under Shuja-ud-Daula – most remember the third Nawab for his roles in the Third Battle of Panipat and Battle of Buxar – Faizabad prospered. But the city lost its sheen soon after his death in 1775 – Shuja-ud-Daula’s tomb in Gulab Bari and that of his wife, the Bahu Begum, are city landmarks – when his son and successor Asaf-ud-Daula decided to move the capital to Lucknow. Faizabad remained neglected, forgotten, more so after the annexation of Awadh in 1856.

It was the Ayodhya dispute, especially the chain of events in the last century, that returned the spotlight to Faizabad. At the Kutchery, the Collectorate, Advocate Nadeem Siddiqui, who is also the state president of All India Muslim Majlis, says the battle was hard and long but the chapter is over. “Of course, there are sentiments. Let’s not go there. Because in this case, there’s no going back. The highest court of the land has ruled, and its ruling has been accepted.”

Siddiqui points to the old courtroom where District Judge K M Pandey ordered the unlocking of the Ram Janmabhoomi-Babri Masjid premises on February 1, 1986. “I was there that day. I tried to oppose the unlocking but the judge didn’t listen. It was a long legal battle. But it’s over…Now if the focus is on development, who is going to object? It is for the good of everyone.”