Nurpur Fort: Where legends sleep and heritage waits to awaken

High on a rugged cliff overlooking the Jabbar river in Himachal Pradesh’s Kangra district stands Nurpur Fort, a weathered sentinel of history. Built nearly a 1,000 years ago, this architectural marvel has witnessed dynasties rise and fall, conquests unfold and legends take shape.

Today, though its palace walls crumble and frescoes fade, the fort still whispers stories of courage, devotion and timeless artistry. Its intricate carvings of animals, deities, and royal figures remain as fragile echoes of its grandeur awaiting the restoration that could revive its legacy for generations to come.

Once called Dhameri, the town of Nurpur traces its royal lineage back to the 11th century, when Jeth Pal of the Tomar dynasty founded a kingdom here. The Pathania rulers who followed gave the region both prosperity and pride, none more than Raja Jagat Singh Pathania (1618–1646). His reign is still celebrated in folk ballads that praise his just rule:

“Jaisa Raja Jagat Singh, vaise hote dou

Char disha bukhand mein, bhukha na marta kou”

History records that even the Mughal court could not resist Nurpur’s charm. Queen Nur Jahan, enchanted during a visit with Emperor Jahangir, expressed her desire to settle here. Local lore says that the clever Raja, unwilling to surrender his jewel of a valley, staged a crowd of goitre patients to convince her otherwise. The queen, alarmed, quickly changed her mind. The town, however, kept her name — Nurpur.

The fort’s walls are not only stone and mortar but also soaked in stories of resistance. Among them shines the tale of Wazir Ram Singh Pathania, a young prince who rose against British designs on Nurpur in 1848, nearly a decade before the First War of Independence. Betrayed during worship and imprisoned, he was sent to the dreaded ‘Kalapani’ and later to Rangoon. Tortured but unyielding, he died at just 24, a martyr for freedom.

His courage found voice in the ballads sung by Kaka Darves of Chowari, who, with his sarangi, stirred patriotic fervour by singing: “Koi Killa Pathania Zor Kadiya…” These songs, once carried on the winds of Nurpur, kept alive the flame of resistance in young hearts.

Tucked within Nurpur Fort lies one of its rarest jewels — the Sri Brijraj Swami Temple. What makes it extraordinary is its devotion not to Radha but to Meera Bai, alongside Lord Krishna. According to legend, the idol of Krishna, once worshipped by Meera herself, was brought from Chittor as a royal gift. Even today, its faded frescoes reflect a time when devotion and artistry were inseparable, binding the fort’s cultural and spiritual identity.

Today, the fort lies under the care of the Archaeological Survey of India, though much of it stands neglected. Crumbling bastions and weatherworn frescoes bear testimony to time’s slow decay. The descendants of Nurpur’s royal lineage, including Durgeshwar Singh Pathania, call for urgent restoration. They envision light-and-sound shows, revival of folk ballads, and cultural events to breathe life back into its corridors.

Rajeshwar Pathania, descendant of Wazir Ram Singh, sees Nurpur Fort not only as a historic monument but as a self-sustaining citadel of resilience. His plea is simple: let the fort’s legacy of valour and devotion become a beacon for both heritage lovers and travellers.

If given a chance, Nurpur Fort could rise again — not merely as ruins to be remembered, but as a living monument where history, culture and pride converge.