Chatta Chowk, Red Fort: A market for more than shopping

The famous Meena Bazaar in Old Delhi is a landmark for most Delhiites. But few know that the famed sandstone walls of the nearby Red Fort host another bazaar inside them—the first covered market that India ever had. This is Chatta Chowk or Bazaar-i-Musaqqaf, which literally translates to the roofed market. Dingy shops wait to entice you with their goods here, with the dense waft of attar engaging in a dalliance with your senses at all times. There was a time when Chatta Chowk housed the women-only Meena Bazaar under Shah Jahan’s orders, but today, the commercial market is kept alive by men and women alike, thronged by poker-faced locals and jumpy tourists from all walks of life.

Chatta Chowk: The Covered Market

Back in the 17th century, the concept of covered markets was restricted to West Asia. In India, one normally came across open-air street markets. But when emperor Shah Jahan was building the Red Fort from 1638 to 1648, he planned to include in it all amenities and conveniences for his ministers and harem. A major concern during this construction was the ability of women to go out shopping and spend a leisure day away from prying eyes. With men populating the shops in bazaars, women of Mughal nobility rarely got the chance to set out shopping and socialising. The emperor decided to find a way around that.

At that time, urban refurbishment was successfully catering to socio-economic paradigms in the imperial cities of Turkey and Iran. One such city was Isfahan in Iran, the Safavid capital admired for its stunning choreography of maidans and promenades for a synchronised dance of social, political and economic forces. Within the grand acreage of the city, the walled fortresses stood out for their exclusivity, studded with monumental gates that checked the flow from the city into the court. Markets here were sheltered and teeming with women. The men were kept out of shops on the ‘Ladies Day’ of the week, and their wives took over the bargaining and selling as women stepped out to shop. Inspired by this concept, Shah Jahan decided to build a similar market in Shah Jahanabad. Everything from its architecture to its location was to serve a distinct purpose.

Located near the Lahori Gate, Chatta Chowk is a 13ft-wide lane stretching 230ft in length. The entire market was parked inside this arcaded hallway with shops on the ground and upper storeys. In its center the emperor had constructed an octagonal opening in the roof, which served as a courtyard. The morning light flooded into the market from this opening, and fresh air ventilated the roomy corridor at a time when electricity was just a figment of the imagination.

When visiting Red Fort, the market was one of the first things one came across upon entering the gate, and reflected the city’s prosperity under the emperor’s rule. Everything from wares and flowers, jugs and rugs to incense and shawls was available here. Velvet and brocade slipped through the hands of the elite, while gold and silver glistened hard enough to make one look away. Every shop had something to offer, but the roof that housed them had its own treasure to boast about. The arched ceiling was stuccoed with honeycomb motifs and floral patters, gilded to perfection. For years, we did not know such marvellous frescoes existed in the commercial area. It was only in 2017 that the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) discovered the Mughal era paintings as workers scraped off six layers of paint.

Today, a levelled road leads into the bazaar, where modern men and women sell eatables and souvenirs. As I walk through the noisy market, the usual calls of desperate shopkeepers evades me. Here, no one seems to care what you buy; all are swaying to the clank of metal wares, seemingly intoxicated from the scent of frankincense. Even at dusk, the white arcades lend a bright touch to the structure, multiplying the roomy illusion of the airy courtyard. There was a time when the road from the Lahori Gate to Red Fort was almost two feet lower—to fill potholes, it was levelled in the modern era. This meant that now, the two main doors of the bazaar can not be closed as the concrete came in their way.

Nonetheless, as twilight settles, shopkeepers tower bolt the wooden doors to their own shops. By nightfall, an eerie quiet falls over the warmly lit corridor, almost as if the walls are resting until the next morning, when another day will be sure to bring another host of awestruck onlookers to their adobe.