“Hauz” means reservoir or water tank in Urdu, and “Khas” translates to special or royal. Located in South Delhi, this complex includes the original royal water tank, a Madrasa, a tomb and a mosque, all built in the early 14th century. The reservoir measures about 600 by 700 metres, and at its historical peak, could hold about 800,000 cubic meters of water after the monsoon season and serve as a water source to residents. Today, the Hauz Khas provides fresh water to local and migratory birds and indirectly recharges local water structures including wells that supply fresh water to residents.
I thought this would be a good location to start with while I was tracing the different water sources of the city because it is the one that I grew up with. It is about a thirty minute walk from my home, and it was often the location my parents used to bring us to as kids to expend our excess energy. Over the years, I have seen the tank dry and grassy, muddy and brown, and green and mossy. I have memories of picnics, racing my sister down little hills, beautiful flowers, and bruised knees.
None of those things were the original purpose of this complex.
About 600 years before my young self was picnicking here, the tank served a much more vital function – it provided water to the residents of the old city of Siri. The Hauz Khas water tank was built in the fourteenth century by the emperor, Alai-Ud-Din Khilji. In fact, it was first named Hauz-i-Alai after him. It was excavated and created for the sole purpose of providing water to the residents of the city.
Over time, the reservoir was abandoned until Firoz Shah of the Tughlaq dynasty de-silted and restored the tank. He also built out the complex further, adding the Muslim seminary and building his own tomb. The Madrasa became the foremost center for muslim theological study of its time and was lined by fruit trees irrigated with water from the tank (INTACH). The seminary forms an L shape around the tank and you can climb (some very steep) steps up to the old institute. The area was a thriving economic center, not just because of the seminary but because the water-rich land allowed for agriculture and increased food production (Welch).
I visited this location again in the Spring of 2023, after having researched and learnt more about the location. It was surprising to me as I walked through the dusty walls with a good amount of heart scribbles, that at one point it was painted white, with colourful vermillion and gold embellishments. The neatly manicured lawns around the buildings feel removed from the gardens and fruit orchards that once existed. I paused, looked, and listened to the mechanic whir of a water sprinkler.
In the 1960s, the tank was once again dry mostly because of the falling water table and the diversion of stormwater, and it wasn’t again until 2003 that the organization INTACH was able to work to restore the water system. After much convoluted organizational and system wrangling, they were able to divert treated wastewater and rainwater runoff to the tank. Slowly, the water spread and then filled up the tank, and when it rained, it filled even further. As the tank visibly filled up, so did the hidden water table underground. The tube wells in the surrounding neighbourhoods didn’t have to penetrate as deep to access water.
It is funny, through the course of this project, I’ve been looking at the different ways Delhi receives water and the contemporary problems we face. When I look at the tank today I realize that the problems are not contemporary. Our ancestors faced the same ones, they realized our city is an arid one, scarce in a resource that is essential to all life. But then it would rain, and in the monsoon our city would bloat with fresh water. They had the foresight and patience to store that water and then consume it at a respectful pace.
Collect the rainwater when you have excess. Keep the leftovers in the ground to replenish the earth.