Fatehpur Sikri

Where it sits. Fatehpur Sikri stands on a low sandstone ridge 36 kilometres west of Agra, on the old road towards Jaipur. The ridge gave Akbar's masons their material directly underfoot — the deep red Sikri sandstone that the entire city is cut from — and it gave the palace complex a platform above the surrounding fields. The imperial quarter occupies the ridge top in two linked precincts: the palace enclosure to the east and the great congregational mosque with its towering southern gateway to the west. Below the walls, the modern town and a shrunken lakebed occupy ground that once held the artificial reservoir on which the whole enterprise depended.

The story behind it. Akbar was without a surviving male heir when he consulted the Sufi Salim Chishti, who lived at Sikri. A son was born in 1569 and named Salim after him — the future emperor Jahangir. Akbar began building a religious compound at once and then, from 1571, an entire walled capital, which took the name Fatehpur, the city of victory, after his Gujarat campaign of 1573. The court occupied it for roughly fourteen years and then left, in 1585, as Akbar moved north to campaign in Punjab; the city was fully abandoned by 1610. The usual explanation is that the water supply failed, and the size of the reservoir relative to a court of thousands makes that plausible, though the abandonment was as much political as hydrological. The East India Company used the site as an administrative centre from 1803 to 1850, and the Marquess of Hastings ordered repairs in 1815. UNESCO inscribed it in 1986.

What you actually see. Because the city was occupied so briefly and never rebuilt, it is the clearest surviving picture of Mughal court architecture at a single moment. The Buland Darwaza, at 54 metres the tallest gateway of its kind, is climbed by a flight of steps that makes it feel taller still; its inscription carries the saying, attributed to Jesus, that the world is a bridge to be crossed rather than a house to be built on. Inside the mosque courtyard stands the marble tomb of Salim Chishti, its serpentine brackets and lace-fine jali screens hung with the threads that petitioners still tie. In the palace precinct: the five-tiered Panch Mahal, an open pavilion whose 176 columns are said to be individually carved; the Diwan-i-Khas with its single central pillar exploding into thirty-six brackets to carry a hanging platform; Ankh Michauli; the Turkish Sultana's house, densely carved with trees and animals; Jodha Bai's palace, the largest residential block; and the Anup Talao, a square pool with a central island stage.

On screen. The city has been a working film location since the black-and-white era, favoured because it is monumental, photogenic and — unlike Agra Fort — largely free of crowds and army restrictions in its outer courts. Subhash Ghai shot Pardes (1997) here, using the courtyards for the song Do Dil Mil Rahe Hain, and the site has since appeared in productions ranging from Jodhaa Akbar to Mani Ratnam's Iruvar and the Punjabi-Hindi comedies of the Yamla Pagla Deewana series. Its most famous cinematic role, though, is one it never actually played: Mughal-e-Azam (1960) sets its story of Akbar, Salim and Anarkali in these palaces, but K. Asif built his versions on Bombay sound stages. Visitors who arrive expecting the film's Sheesh Mahal will not find it here — the mirrored hall was a studio creation, and the real Akbari interiors are austere by comparison.

Getting there and timing. Buses and shared taxis run from Idgah bus stand in Agra in about an hour, and the site is an easy half-day from the city or a stop on the road to Jaipur. Two tickets are involved: the mosque and dargah are free to enter, while the palace complex is ticketed by the Archaeological Survey of India. A shuttle covers the last stretch from the car park up to the gate. Early morning is the moment worth planning for, before tour buses arrive around 10am, and the low sun makes the carving legible. Persistent unofficial guides work the approach. Ground is uneven, most levels involve steps, and there is almost no shade — which is a real consideration between April and June.