As Jallianwala Bagh Massacre turns 106, what Amritsar's secret passageways have to say

Dawn breaks, but not like any other day! In Amritsar, April 13th is not just another date—it is a memory suspended in history, as the city exhales a quiet lament. Steam rises from chai-wallas' kulhads, ghostly wisps that curl like forgotten tears through narrow lanes where history bleeds into the present, and where the hammering of brass echoes like heartbeats—some strong, some broken—remembering those who fell silent on this devastating day. As many as 106 years have passed since the ground of Jallianwala Bagh was baptized in innocent blood, yet the stones still weep. Even the honking vehicles and bustling streets cannot drown the voices of those who died—young and old, men and women, dreams and futures brutally extinguished by colonial violence.

Also read | Heritage tourism breathes life into Chettinad's forgotten mansions

In tribute to the 1919 massacre, the Jallianwala Bagh Memorial was inaugurated on April 13, 1961, by India’s first President, Dr. Rajendra Prasad. It has undergone careful preservation since, transforming its traumatic landscape into a structured memorial. The walls now bear carefully preserved bullet marks, encircled and integrated into a reconstructed brick surface. A central water monument invites reflection, while the site’s redesign—with a single entry and multiple exits—symbolically counters the trauma of its past.

The iconic Golden Temple

“Yet, to experience the true history of Amritsar, walk past its celebrated landmarks, into the Katra Ahluwalia neighbourhood, concealed behind Beri Wali Gali and Ghanta Ghar Chowk, through a landscape of crumbling Katras and Akharas that speak of an era slowly fading from collective memory,” as Prabh, an official guide at the Partition Museum with a keen grasp of the city's history, puts it. Here, in these ancient streets, the past is not a distant historical account but a living, breathing entity—every brick and creaking wooden balcony a witness to a profound inheritance—of pain, of resistance, and of unbreakable human spirit.

“Amritsar was founded in 1577 by the revered fourth Sikh Guru, Guru Ram Das. Originally named Ramdaspur in his honour, it was later renamed Amritsar, inspired by Amrit Sarovar, the sacred pool of nectar he had created at the city's core. Guru Ram Das envisioned the city as the spiritual hub of Sikhism, welcoming people of all backgrounds and faiths. He even laid out its design using a grid system, with the magnificent Harmandir Sahib, or Golden Temple, standing as its centrepiece,” Prabh shares, while introducing the city at the entrance of the Town Hall.

The Amritsar Town Hall is the ideal starting point for exploring the city’s past. Built in 1866 during British rule, it once served as a key administrative hub. Today, its Indo-Saracenic and colonial architecture reflects the shifting tides of governance and civic life, while hosting the world's first partition museum since 2017. Larger-than-life portraits of those impacted by Partition deck the outer walls of this former British headquarters and prison, now home to the museum on one side and restaurants and shops on the other. Photography is prohibited inside, allowing one to fully immerse in 14 evocative galleries tracing the journey from pre-Partition resistance (1900-1929) to the rise of political movements (1930-1945), the prelude to independence, mass migration, and eventual refuge.

Also read | Assam’s oldest jail, a Muslim woman jailer, and the road to reformation

“Why Amritsar?” asks Prabh, before answering his own question: “Amritsar was the last station for those leaving India for Pakistan and the first for those arriving from Pakistan into India.” He gestures toward an old photograph of the Golden Temple, pointing out the British-built clock tower from 1920—demolished by the people of Amritsar after independence. Nearby, the statue of Maharaja Ranjit Singh now stands where Queen Victoria’s once did, reflecting the city’s reclaiming of its identity.

The Ranjit Singh chauraha

“There are many ways that the history of a nation can be told—either through the experiences of rulers, or the experiences of the ruled,” writes Kishwar Desai, chairperson of 'The Arts and Cultural Heritage Trust of the Partition Museum' in Mallika Ahluwalia's book “Divided by Partition, United by Resilience,” adding, “In the world we live in today, with all its insecurities and upheavals, these partition stories are an important and inspirational reminder of how people have overcome their grief to emerge even stronger. All this happened just seventy years ago—and yet we did our best for many decades to airbrush it away.”

Amritsar was founded in 1577 by the revered fourth Sikh Guru, Guru Ram Das.

With its vast archive, the Partition Museum paints a poignant portrait of Amritsar’s historical journey. There are several pictures that capture the city's transformative moments, such as the 1947 Hall Bazaar shopping street marked by fire's devastating touch, or an 1888 map portraying Amritsar as a 'holy walled fortress'. The museum collection also includes 17 textile labels from Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s era, showcasing handcrafted phulkari and bagh prints that continue to reflect Amritsar's cultural vitality in the labyrinthine lanes of Katra Ahluwalia—a kaleidoscope of commerce conceived by Sardar Jassa Singh Ahluwalia in 1760.

Even today, its narrow lanes are lined with Nanakshahi brick buildings, their terracotta hues deepening in the afternoon sun. The terracotta walls, worn yet resolute, cradle memories within their delicate mouldings and bold cornices. Intricate plasterwork, as fragile as lace, clings to façades that have withstood the weight of centuries. Painted scenes on the ceilings, once full of life, now peer hazily through the veil of centuries, their colours muted but their spirit undimmed. Latticed windows—jharokhas and jaalies—filter sunlight into dappled patterns across stone floors. Yet, where time has eroded their strength, modern concrete stands in quiet surrender—a necessary patchwork of preservation, a bittersweet reminder that even history must sometimes yield to survival.

In this very quarter, a three-minute walk from Town Hall, Saragarhi Memorial Gurudwara honors 21 Sikh soldiers of the British Indian Army who made a legendary last stand in the 1897 Battle of Saragarhi against overwhelming Afghan forces. A symbol of Sikh bravery, this lesser-known site stands in quiet tribute. Continuing, a left turn from the Maharaja Ranjit Singh Statue leads to Qila Ahluwalia, a five-minute walk away. Its red brick walls and carved wooden balconies once bore witness to regal processions, including those of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who was greeted with showers of flowers centuries ago. Once a stronghold of the Ahluwalia Misl, the fortress now stands weathered, surrounded by modern encroachments. Yet amidst this elegant decline, several Havelis maintain their aristocratic bearing, their wooden frameworks intricate as medieval manuscripts.

Next door, the historic Udasin Ashram Akhara Sangalwala stands in quiet contemplation. But first, the journey pauses at Jalebiwala Chowk—a lively intersection named after the generations of jalebi vendors who have made this corner their own. Here, the sizzle of frying batter, the heady aroma of sugar syrup, and the crisp bite of golden jalebis serve as a prelude to the stories that linger in the air—tales of traders, freedom fighters, and poets who once gathered at this bustling crossroads. Beyond the sensory delights of the chowk, the Udasin Ashram Akhara—one of Amritsar’s oldest spiritual sites—offers a fading glimpse into the Udasi sect of Nihang Sikhs, founded by Sri Chand, the son of Guru Nanak.

“For every Sikh it is important to be initiated a Khalsa and be a shastar (weapon)—adorning Singh. To become a Nihang it is more so important. They mustbe skilled in weapons so as they can guard and fight for dharma and the nation. This is the greatest dharma of the Khalsa,” Referencing the tenth Guru, Gobind Singh (1661–1708), author Nidar Singh Nihang includes his words in his book Sanatan Shastar Vidiya. Nihang Sikhs are warrior-saints recognized for their exceptional combat or martial arts skills and distinguished by their blue 'bana' attire with stripes. The name "Nihang" derives from Persian, meaning “alligator”—aptly characterizing the warriors.

At Udasin akhara (training ground), you'll meet the Khalsa warriors Baldev and Kirpal Singh who will show you around the complex that features a Shiva temple, communal living quarters, and a sunlit courtyard for physical training, all anchored by an ancient Guru Granth Sahib (Sikh holy scripture) housed within its own sacred space. Chitta Akhara is another center of spiritual learning worth taking a look as it dates back centuries. Its walls still resonate with chants and prayers, as it remains a rare vestige of the city’s deep-rooted religious diversity. Both these Akharas are a short walk from—Darshani Deori, the historic entrance to the Golden Temple—and Baba Bohar beneath the shade of a banyan tree believed to be over 400 years old. Encroachments press in, threatening this living monument, but efforts to preserve it persist.

Further ahead, the courtyard of Thakurdwara Dariana Mal comes alive with faded yet elaborate frescoes depicting episodes from Hindu epics. Not far from here, in Katra Hari Singh, stands Amritsar’s first mint—Taksal—where coins of the Sikh regime were once struck, echoing the city’s economic and political significance of the early 1800s. The mint was built in Katra Jamadar in 1851 by Thakurdwara Raja Tej Singh. Once a hub of social gatherings, it now stands largely overlooked, its grandeur fading beneath layers of dust and neglect. Yet, just a short walk away, Gurudwara Chowrasti Atari marks another historic crossroads in old Amritsar—a place where Sri Guru Hargobind Sahib Ji is believed to have occasionally rested. This plaza witnessed a pivotal moment in 1629 when an imperial Mughal force launched an attack on the Guru.

Following the annexation of Punjab, British officials ordered the demolition of the original structure to widen the plaza. The present-day building, though smaller in scale, continues to uphold its spiritual significance, with the Guru Granth Sahib enshrined on the ground floor. Beyond daily prayers, special congregations take place on the first and fifth days of the light half of every lunar month, preserving the site's enduring legacy. With that, the heritage walk comes full circle, leading to Crawling Street—its very name a haunting reminder of one of the most humiliating decrees issued by General Dyer in the aftermath of the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre. Here, Indian men were forced to crawl on their bellies, a stark symbol of colonial brutality that continues to haunt the city.

But the most striking revelation of this walk—is when you realize that the archways you just passed through, connecting mohallas and katras, were in fact, once the secret passageways. Navigating these historic passages on foot offers the most immersive experience, but for those seeking a leisurely alternative, the rehri rickshaw—a hand-pulled or cycle-driven vehicle—remains a popular mode of transport. Do pause to savour Amritsar’s iconic—Amritsari Kulcha at Kulwant Singh Kulchian Wale, Amritsari Fish at Pehlwan Amritsari Fish Shop, a refreshing Lassi-Fulka at Gian Di Lassi, and Amritsari Halwa at Kanahya Sweets—a flavourful ode to survival and love.

As Amritsar prepares to mark the 106th anniversary of the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre, the city's layered history demands both remembrance and action. Beyond its celebrated landmarks, its true essence lingers in the forgotten alleyways, overlooked buildings, and whispered stories embedded in its walls. The resilience of those who endured its darkest chapters—figures like athlete Milkha Singh and former Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh, who both lost family members to violence—serves as a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made. As modernity continues to reshape Amritsar, preserving its vanishing heritage becomes not just a responsibility, but an imperative, ensuring that future generations inherit more than just monuments—they inherit the stories, struggles, and spirit that define this historic city.