Fading Grandeur: Wazirbagh’s Mughal Majesty Lost in Neglect

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Peshawar: Once resonant with laughter, birdsong, and the scent of wet earth during the monsoon, Peshawar’s historic Mughal-era Wazirbagh garden now stands eerily silent a ghost of a greener past, fading under the weight of neglect, urban encroachment, and environmental degradation.

For generations, gardens like Wazir Bagh, Shalimar Garden, and Jinnah Park were the emerald heartbeats of the city places where citizens found shade, solace, and shared memories. Today, however, they are but pale shadows of their former selves.

The towering pipal, siris, and shisham trees that once offered cool respite during scorching summers have been felled, taking with them the chorus of birds and the joy of shaded picnics. Where lush canopies once created twilight even in broad daylight, dust now swirls over worn-out patches of grass.

“I returned to my favorite Wazir Bagh after 20 years and was heartbroken,” said Riaz Khan, a retired government servant, his eyes moist with nostalgia as his grandchildren played hide-and-seek nearby. “The dying greenery and loss of those thick pipal trees hurt me the most.”

He recalled a childhood spent chasing butterflies and listening to elders’ stories beneath vast, sheltering branches. “Back then, it was alive with families, joggers, and flowerbeds. Now, only concrete, dying greenery, and silence remain.”

Wazir Bagh was more than a park; it was once a cultural gathering point. Riaz remembered how Shinwaris, Afridis, Mohmands, Khattaks, and even foreign visitors converged here to picnic, socialize, and share in the city’s heritage. Fruit-bearing trees — apricots, pomegranates, and pears lined its grounds, alongside vibrant flowerbeds that dazzled tourists.

But over time, creeping encroachment, poor maintenance, and haphazard urban planning stripped the garden of its soul. Shrinking flowerbeds, broken benches, and withered plants now whisper a story of neglect. Even Jinnah Park, once a vital lung of Peshawar, lost significant land to the ill planned BRT corridor near Firdus Square.

“Wazir Bagh was the identity of Peshawar,” Riaz said softly. “I visited countless times as a student. We played under its tall pipal trees, but today… there’s nothing left.”

A Garden with History

Built in 1810 by Sardar Fateh Mohammad Khan Barkzai, known as Wazir, after defeating Shah Shuja’s forces, Wazir Bagh was Peshawar’s first Mughal-style garden. It lay near his residence in southern Peshawar and stood as a symbol of power and beauty.

The garden’s surroundings are equally steeped in history: the Durrani Royal graveyard and the tomb of Beejo Bibi, a consort of Shah Taimur, son of Ahmad Shah Abdali. British diplomat Sir Alexander Burnes visited in 1832 and recorded his admiration for the garden’s lush charm — a stark contrast to its desolate state today.

A Flicker of Revival

In recent years, a glimmer of hope emerged when former Chief Minister Mahmood Khan allocated Rs100 million for Wazir Bagh’s revival under the “New Peshawar, Old Charm” project. Led by the Local Government Department, the plan aimed to restore pavilions, lawns, fountains, and pathways, while slip roads were added to ease access to both Wazir Bagh and the nearby Shahi Bagh.

A department spokesman noted that to improve the garden’s environment, billboards, debris, rusting vehicles, tangled wires, and illegal structures were cleared. Power lines near the site were also shifted underground to preserve aesthetic and safety standards.

More Than Just Parks

Experts warn that what is at stake is not simply green space but living heritage. “These parks are not just recreational spaces,” said Bakhtzada Muhammad, Assistant Director of Archaeology and Museums. “They are living archives green chapters in Peshawar’s 3,000-year-old story.”

Urban gardens, he explained, are vital for residents’ well-being: improving air and water quality, offering recreation, and strengthening community bonds. Their absence not only weakens the city’s identity but also harms the physical and mental health of its people.

The responsibility, citizens and experts agree, lies with the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa government. Restoring Wazir Bagh and other historic parks demands urgent attention replanting native trees, removing encroachments, and protecting them from further deterioration.

Riaz Khan even suggested introducing a nominal entry fee to curb misuse and ensure maintenance. “If we don’t act now,” he warned, “future generations will only hear stories of what Wazir Bagh once was.”

For a city as old as Peshawar, its gardens are more than green patches of land; they are collective memories, cultural anchors, and vital spaces for community life. Losing them would mean erasing yet another layer of its timeless identity.