When I first met the last Nizam...

I was a small girl when I met the Nizam — must have been around 7-8 years old. I used to spend a lot of time in my maternal grandparents’ house in Bholakpur and travel with them everywhere. One day, I heard them discussing that my thatha has to go to King Koti to visit the Nizam. My thatha, B Ranga Reddy, was once the revenue secretary to the Nizam in Hyderabad State, so such visits were common . Anyways, the news got me interested. I started jumping up and down, and begged him to take me along. After some reluctance, they agreed on one condition: that I must sit quietly and refrain from chattering, which I used to do a lot. I had heard so much about the Nizam, and wanted to meet him so bad, that I didn’t think twice before agreeing to the conditions. Little did they know that I was about to break the promise!On the appointed day I was dressed up in a silk langa-jacket, my hair plaited neatly with flowers pinned to it. Then we set out in a Buick car for King Koti, where we were received by SN Reddy, my great uncle who even after retirement continued to be in charge of many things at the palace, apart from security.After we went inside and sat down, waiting for the Nizam to come, I was reminded of my promise again. Suddenly there was an announcement and everybody stood up. Then I saw the Mir Osmal Ali Khan, Nizam VII arrive, accompanied by a few people. The child in me was astonished; I fancied the Nizam to be a big man, a towering personality, bejewelled, oozing grandeur and royalty. But the man infront of me was small, rather bird-like man, in an old sherwani — simple and so small. And I wondered aloud, “Veedu Nizam aa?” Thatha, mortified, ‘shh’-ed me quiet.I sat quietly while the elders talked gravely over some matters of great importance. Soon I was bored; I started fidgeting. It was then that the Nizam's eyes fell on me. “Is she your granddaughter?” he asked my thatha. I couldn’t miss the chance to speak. So I replied, in English. He was impressed. “Oh, she speaks good English,” he complimented me. Flattered, I started babbling, “Of course, I study in St Ann’s School; just like my mother. Your granddaughters too go to St Ann's. But they don't attend classes, neither do they wear uniforms. They just come in big cars wearing fancy clothes, have lunch and go off.” My grandfather glared at me, and asked me to shut up, so I went quiet. Seeing me bored, the Nizam asked my grandfather, “What would she like to do?” I expressed my desire to go around the palace. After touring the palace, when I came back, the Nizam asked me how the tour was. I said, “My ammamma keeps our place better. This palace is so dusty!” Horrified, my grandfather ‘shh’-ed me again.Then came the tea, in tiny yet exquisite porcelain cups accompanied by one salt buiscuits in the saucer. But what disappointed me was that the cups were only half filled. I couldn’t help exclaiming, “Inthe na!? Only half-a-cup!”My grandfather and grand uncle had had enough of my blabbering. Before I could rattle away and embarrass them any further, they sent me out in the garden to get rid of me. I played in the garden, till their meeting was over.Now, when I look back and realise his contribution to our city, I feel nothing but respect for this great man. There might be a lot of controversy surrounding his regime but one can’t deny that he is the architect of modern Hyderabad. His rule saw the expansion of roadways, railways, postal services and architecture. From High Court, Assembly Hall, Nampally Railway Station, Osmania General Hospital, Nizamia Unani Hospital, Osmansagar, Himayatsagar — the list is endless. Osmania University remains his biggest contribution to education.