Ruin hunting in Mahastangarh

Mahastangarh is the ruins of a city dating from the third century BC. Very old indeed and it thrived through the Buddhist Hindu and Muslim incarnations of Bangladesh to now lie almost forgotten beneath the clays. It’s partly been excavated and  decidedly vast – and the grounds make for a good spot to play cricket, romantic picnics for young couples and even a good crop of cabbage to be grown. The museum has a decent exhibition of artefacts from all three religious eras, and the multitude of dynasties that ruled the city, ranging from Hindu phalluses and virgin goddesses to Arabic texts from the Quran inscribed in stone – nice contrast that. My uninvited guide actually gave a decent commentary of the whole thing and he provided some welcome company. Lots of foreigners come here he says, at least 20 per season – and this a site that would be teeming with camera-wielding tourists in most countries.

The relaxing walk along the unending and meandering crenelations  made the trip worthwhile – although my journey there is another long story altogether. I obligingly stopped to pose for photos with a few Bangladeshis, I’m obviously as much of an attraction as one of their most historic sites and slowly made my way back to the main road through the cabbage fields and banana trees.

Arriving back into Bogra town I heard a male chorus of chants and for a second thought football until I realised it was something much more familiar – a protest. Yes, I was downstream of a couple of thousand irate men (and very definitely no women) in traditional muslim dress shouting Allah-u-akhbar from the depths of their lungs. Now, not having a clue as to what they were protesting, and not wanting to take the chance of being mistaken for an American as they frantically swept their way down the street I deftly sidestepped through a conveniently located nearby gate into the calm oasis of a park and watched as they strode by. The Bangladeshis in the park looked equally bewildered by the parade although I have to say some of the slogans were actually quite catchy. As I rounded the corner to my hostel they had come almost full circle and were now gathering outside the building next door to where I was staying. Well, at least I could watch from the balcony I thought, which is exactly what I did. Some rousing speeches were given, with what I deemed to be ample sprinkling of the words Bangladesh and Allah before the crowd dispersed in a rather merry fashion to return to whatever it is one does on Fridays, which is the sabbath here. Actually I do like a good demonstration, I should have joined in.