Once, the Lodhi Fort in Ludhiana stood proudly on the banks of the Sutlej, a monumental gateway to Sikander Lodhi's empire, towering as a sentinel over the trade routes that threaded between Delhi and Lahore. The grand structure, built in the last decade of the 15th centur
y by the Lodhi ruler, was more than just a military outpost—it was a fortress of prosperity, a stronghold where commerce thrived, and a city grew around it, one that would come to be known as Lodhi-ana, the City of Lodhi.
Its construction was no small feat. Under the watchful eyes of generals Nihan Khan and Yusuf Khan, the fort rose from the earth in a strategic location designed to guard the ever-important Sutlej River, which at the time flowed nearby. The river was the lifeline of the region, and with its changing course, so too would the fortunes of this once-mighty fort change. But for centuries, it served as a protector of trade and prosperity, and its walls bore witness to countless battles, strategies, and alliances.
As the centuries passed, new rulers took notice of the fort's importance. Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the Lion of Punjab, saw in its thick, red sandstone walls the potential to fortify his own empire. Seizing the fort in the 19th century, he strengthened its defenses and extended its strategic reach by constructing a secret underground tunnel, one that connected Lodhi Fort to Phillaur Fort on the opposite bank of the Sutlej. The tunnel, shrouded in mystery and legend, became a lifeline in times of war, a hidden passage for soldiers to communicate and maneuver unseen.
But time, like the river that once ran beside it, changed its course. As the British Empire expanded its control over India, the fort once again shifted hands. Under British rule, Lodhi Fort was maintained, admired even, as tourists visited to marvel at its architecture. The double-gated entrances, solid wooden doors, and intricately carved arches told stories of an era when the fort was alive with military strategy, trade, and the hum of life.
However, as India's independence dawned, the fort was gradually forgotten, lost amidst the chaos of urban sprawl and the relentless march of time. Its walls, once the pride of empires, began to crumble. What was once a bustling stronghold has now become a ruin, encroached upon by the city that grew around it, its strategic importance long faded from memory. No signs remain to tell of its glorious past, and many locals pass by, unaware that beneath the rubble lies over 500 years of history.
The fort, now known locally as Purana Qila, still stands, though it lies in ruins. What remains is a shadow of its former self, a monument to the past that few remember. Its once-grand structure, stretching over 5.6 acres, now fights for space amid modern developments, as if the earth itself is reclaiming the history that has been forgotten.
Beneath the worn stone and fallen arches, there are whispers of its storied past. Stories of its role in protecting trade routes, its transformation under Maharaja Ranjit Singh, and the secret tunnel that still ignites the imagination of those who know of its existence. Historians speak of its
architectural grandeur, a blend of Afghan and Mughal influences, with fortified walls that once protected the region from invaders. They tell of the rebellious soldiers who defied British rule within its walls, of Maulana Shah Abdul Kader Ludhianavi’s leadership during the 1857 revolt.
And yet, for all its history, the fort remains largely forgotten, a relic of a time when Ludhiana was known as the City of Lodhi. Even though its stones have begun to crumble, Lodhi Fort holds a story that refuses to be buried entirely—a reminder of Punjab’s enduring legacy, and a plea for the preservation of the history that once shaped the land. The ruins may fade, but the echoes of the past remain, waiting for those who still seek them amidst the dust and debris.
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