Ever wondered why this place never has washed wash rooms? Well, legend has it, that more than a century ago…

Owing to cheap cement and hollow bricks, Anarkali by way of constant digging with her bare hands over many years, had managed to scramble free of her imprisonment. She’d just reunited with her dear Jahangir, but before much could be said or done, she voiced an immediate concern; she had to go. Jahangir thought of no other place than neighbouring K.E.… the white domed palace that housed kings and queens from all over the region. Yesss, a convenient wash room… fit for royalty… would most easily be found THERE, he thought…

*****

The two dashed forward, narrowly missing a small rugged kid selling sweets. The prince took notice of a burly figure… the face was round and clearly suggested nobility. Has definite resemblance to daddy-o mused Jahangir, mistaking the person to be actual royalty. He inquired the other’s name.

“Anwar Kala.”

Ok the name wasn’t exactly royal, so what? “Let’s make that Akbar Kala, if I may,” said Jahangir with a short bow (Rule no 49 of being a Mughal prince… always bow before other royalty especially when suggesting a name change!).

“You see, Oh Akbar Kala! My dearest Anarkali, having been locked up for so long an era is in dire need of… well… ahem,” he coughed to make the point.

“Latreen ka raasta chaheya?” said Anwar Kala, getting the idea with a sly grin.

“Ah! That’s hitting the hammer on the U-bend!” said Jahangir appreciatively. He listened carefully as Anwar Kala mapped out directions to a rest room in the ‘Patyala’ chamber of the white palace.
Anarkali gave a lofty expression to her dearest, which he knew was level red of the words hurry up! So he bade the monarch farewell. But Anwar Kala had something else in mind.

“Chai, pani kay paisay shehzada jee!”

Astonished that a king would ask such meagre a demand, Jahangir grabbed a few gold coins from his robe and handed them over to Anwar Kala. The two then hurriedly headed towards Patyala, too busy to notice their Akbar Kala faint with a loud thud at the sight of gold…

*****

Jahangir lead Anarkali up a flight of steps. Finally… he thought. He held open the door of the wash room for Anarkali to step in, and then waited patiently outside, as she clicked the door shut.
But a few seconds had just passed that his dearest emerged grimacing. Years and years of solitary confinement had left Anarkali with, other than a gi-normous appetite and a tendency to mutter to herself, the shortest of tempers. But who could blame her… she had after all waited many many years for this day… a visit to the rest room… to come, and wanted nothing less than royal perfection.

“The flush doesn’t work! Take me somewhere else!!!”
“Are you sure-” began Jahangir but the stench confirmed the obvious. He sighed and steered her down the white steps.

*****

There were Kings and Queens everywhere, dressed in robes of white. Jahangir noticed the kings were mostly on the lanky side, bespectacled and thin. And who could blame them, he mused, guiding Anarkali through the Anatomy Lawn… with THESE many queens, they’re bound to be running around all the time trying to find the perfect one- a growl from Anarkali made him quicken his steps. The queens were in all sizes; tall, short, squat, lean. What a marvellously assorted queen-collection we have here was the prince’s thought. The couple was again too preoccupied to take notice of a knocked out Anwar Kala, who was surrounded by people squirting water at him to wake him up.

*****

They climbed the swirling steps to reach the wash room opposite the Reading Room. There were a couple of people in wait outside. Jahangir would have given all the gold in the world to buy a quicker turn, but imperial rules forbade a prince to bribe his way up a line (be it to the loo or the throne). So, they waited too and watched…

A king emerged out from the rest room… the next king in turn entered… then when he emerged out a queen entered… and when she came out, a king entered again…
The SAME rest room was being used BOTH by Kings and Queens.


Anarkali fell with a light thud, on her face, fainting with shock.

An astonished Jahangir toppled down the flight of steps, (not unlike his grandfather H. had once done as historians say) ending with such a spectacular breaking of his right femur and left ulna, that the sight could make any surgeon’s mouth water.

K.E.’s kings and queens gathered around them, wondering what on earth had happened.

*****

Hence folks, legend has it, that from that day to this, and likely in the many to come; the wash rooms of K.E., being unable to serve the beautiful, the glamorous, the alluring Anarkali, have never been able to enjoy the luxuries of functioning flushes, unclogged U-bends, spick and span floors and odourlessness.
Yes, ‘tis a pity. And until better days come our way, or till somebody figures a way to break the jinx, the loos of K.E. shall all tragically remain… under…- the curse of Anarkali…