Falaknuma Palace: Romancing a bygone era
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the historic city of Hyderabad, India, I found myself standing in awe before the magnificent Falaknuma Palace. Alone yet surrounded by the romance of time. Like Cinderella, I was whisked away in an ornate carriage through the lush, landscaped gardens, where the air was balmy with fragrant perfume of jasmine and frangipani. Iridescent peacocks danced on decorated terraces. I forgot that I was by myself, and felt ensconced in a magical era that would be pearled into the silk strands of my memories forever.
Built in 1884, and standing proudly 2,000 feet above sea level, the Falaknuma Palace is an architectural jewel of design, luxury and sophistication. The story behind the making and ownership of this grand edifice, now one of the most exclusive hotels of the Taj Group in India, is just as intriguing.
A Royal History
The palace was constructed by Sir Nawab Vikar-Ul Umra from the Paigah family of Hyderabad in the late 19th century. He went bankrupt in the process. Unable to mitigate the financial burden, Nawab Vikar invited the eighth Nizam Mukarram Jaj to visit the palace. The Nizam fell in love with the elegance of the palace and extended his stay. Finally Vikar-Ul Umra gifted the palace to the Nizam, who was at that time, one of the richest men in India with a net worth of INR ₹100 crore (~U.S. $12 million). The Nizam was touched by the gesture and paid the owner a fair price. The palace hosted several visiting international royal dignitatries, and even the President of independent India. But it fell into disrepair by 1950s, until it was restored by the Taj Group of Hotels, and once again began hosting leaders and dignitaries from around the world.
Stars, lights, and memories for company
On the day of my visit to the palace last winter, the white Italian marble facade gleamed under a starlit sky, and the Italian stained-glass windows whispered tales of Venetian counts, and shahzadis from Arabian Nights beckoning me to partake in their timeless allure.
My muse for the evening — the sweet love shared by my dear parents and witnessed by me as a child — filled the air with a palpable sense of romance and nostalgia. Though physically alone, the sparkling stars above and the twinkling city lights below became my companions on this dreamy experience, guiding me through a night of sweet enchantment.
I was quite overwhelmed walking through the State Reception Room, Nizam’s study, the first telephone to grace a desk in India, the walls adorned with frescoes of the four seasons, aesthetically pleasing pale pinks and aqua washed walls, and vaulted ceilings decorated with elaborate gilded reliefs.
The official dining hall – adorned with an endless long dining table and tufted carved rosewood chairs and cascading chandeliers – was being prepared for a family get-together.
I had booked a dinner for myself in honor of the love that my parents shared. Had they been alive, it would have been a joy to bring them here for Valentine’s Day.
I smiled at the musicians tuning their instruments for a live performance, as I was ushered into the resplendent traditional Indian style restaurant called Aada.
Adaa
Nestled within the palace’s gardens with fountains, glittering lamps, and songbirds, the air in Adaa hummed with anticipation, echoing whispers of paramours that I imagine once graced these environs. Behind the carved door, a lavish five-course meal, a symphony of authentic Hyderabadi cuisine, promised to tantalize my senses.
As I sat on down, the aroma of fragrant dahi kebabs, aromatic dal tadka, and rich shahi paneer mingled with the delicately perfumed Hyderabadi biryani. My senses satiated by the ambience, I did not eat much, but each spoonful was thoroughly savored and lauded. The kind servers kept urging me to go for seconds or “repeats”, but after tasting the presentation with all my senses, I felt content by the richness of the cuisine.
Feeling special and exclusive
A few couples and families were engaged in intimate conversations around me, but I felt as though I was the only guest at the Falaknuma Palace and the Nizam had himself instructed his staff to make sure I was taken care of.
This solitary meal evoked memories of family gatherings and shared laughter at my parents’ dinner table. I could feel their presence even at the Palace, watching my face suffuse with gratitude, as I tasted the Double Ka Mitha, and the Pistachio Pan Leaf Kulfi.
As the meal came to a close, I was drawn to the palace’s storied past, wandering through the Nizam’s library, with its carved walnut roof and shelves lined with centuries-old tomes. The first edition of The Titanic was on display.
A journey of the senses
Time seemed to stand still, allowing me to bask in the splendor of an illustrious bygone era.
In essence, my romantic evening at Falaknuma Palace was a journey of the senses. I came back with most of the Mirchi ka Salan and Biryani packed for my chauffeur who was patiently waiting to take me back to the hotel. I did not buy a diamond clasp or a pearl necklace on that day. But, I felt as though I had received a luminous gift that would remain with me for a long time, to hold, to savor, and to remember the love and glory that was my Indian heritage.
