RANIKOT: WHERE STONES SPEAK

travelogue

Ihad heard a lot about Ranikot. The stories always grabbed my attention. There was something mysterious about this place, something that kept pulling at my thoughts long after the conversations had ended. What was Ranikot really like?

That curiosity finally took me there. One morning, I travelled towards Ranikot with my husband, who, by the way, has now accepted that our “simple trips” somehow always involve long drives, rocky terrain and me asking, “Are we there yet?” at least twenty times.

Located about ninety kilometres from Hyderabad and roughly twenty-five to thirty kilometres west of Sann, in Jamshoro District, Ranikot lies tucked within the Kirthar mountain range. As we moved closer, the landscape began to shift. The road grew quieter, the mountains rockier and the surroundings more isolated. The silent, rugged Kirthar Range seemed to embrace this wonder, hiding it somewhere far from the noise of the busy world.

And then, suddenly, I saw the wall.

Ranikot, often called the Wall of Sindh, is not an ordinary wall standing in one place. This massive stone structure moves with the mountains, rising and falling along the natural contours of the landscape. In some places, its walls climb to nearly thirty feet high. Standing beside it, I realised just how enormous this structure truly is - and also realised that I should probably start working on my fitness if I planned to walk along the entire wall.

Along the wall, watchtowers and bastion-like structures stand like silent minarets above the mountains. I kept looking at them, imagining the people who once stood there. Perhaps soldiers watched the valleys from these towers, scanning the distant mountains and waiting for someone to appear on the horizon.

The wall is magnificent but it is only the beginning. The real beauty of Ranikot began to unfold as I started exploring. I thought I had seen it all after gazing at that great stone barrier but then I turned around a mountain and discovered another gate. I walked a little farther and another view opened before me: rocky valleys, mountain slopes, old stone structures and hidden among this dry, rocky landscape was water. Yes, water.

There are hidden streams and natural channels that come alive, especially during the rainy season. The same mountains that look dry and silent can suddenly change their character with flowing water. It feels almost as if the mountains are hiding another secret. I secretly wondered if the mountains were also hiding a chai stall somewhere but no such luck.

And then Ranikot surprised me again. Its defence system is not limited to one massive wall. Hidden within this enormous fortification are Miri and Shergarh, two smaller forts that add another layer to its mystery.

Miri feels like a small world protected within a much bigger one - a fort inside a fort. It is associated with the Talpur rulers and is believed to have served as their royal or residential quarters. Standing there, I began to imagine a different Ranikot. Outside were the huge defensive walls and watchtowers; inside, perhaps, life was unfolding. Royalty walking through courtyards, servants hurrying with meals and guards changing shifts.

And then there was Shergarh, standing high in the mountains, silently watching over the landscape like another guardian of Ranikot.

Today, we see stones and walls. But once, these places must have been full of people. Guards may have stood on the watchtowers. Rulers may have walked inside the fort. Ordinary people may have lived their everyday lives in the shadow of these mountains.

Believe me, every step on Ranikot immersed me in history. Walking through Ranikot is not merely a walk; it is a walk through history. Every stone seems to carry a story. Every watchtower seems to have witnessed something. Every gate makes you wonder who entered and who left.

And perhaps this is the greatest mystery of Ranikot.

Historians and researchers still hold different views about its origins. There is no complete agreement about who first built the fort and when. Some theories connect its origins with much earlier periods, while the Talpur dynasty is associated with its later reconstruction and restoration.

For me, this uncertainty makes Ranikot even more mysterious. Because when history does not give you all the answers, your imagination begins to fill in the gaps. And standing there, I suddenly thought about the Great Wall of China.

We all know the echoes of the Great Wall and how China has transformed its historic wall into a remarkable tourist experience. People travel from across the world to walk along it, climb it, listen to its stories and carry memories home. Even a small, personalised souvenir, like a “Hero Certificate,” can make a traveller feel: I was here. I walked through history.

“Looking at our own Wall of Sindh, I felt that Ranikot also has the potential to offer visitors an experience, not just a visit. As a traveller, I also felt that a trained local guide could walk alongside visitors and tell them about the mystery of its walls, the rulers associated with Miri, the guards who may once have watched from Shergarh and the lives that were connected with these mountains. Local communities could also become part of this journey. Young people from nearby villages could be trained as heritage guides, while local handicrafts, food and culture could give visitors something more than photographs to take home.

Because Ranikot already has everything that can attract a traveller: a massive wall, rocky mountains, history, mystery, hidden forts, watchtowers standing like silent guards and hidden water flowing through a landscape that otherwise looks dry and barren.

What I felt was missing was simply the experience of being welcomed into its story. And then there was another side of Ranikot that I could not ignore.”

The road towards Ranikot was deserted and isolated. There were no visible security personnel, no guide to welcome us or tell us where to go. At one point, surrounded by mountains and silence, I even thought that someone might suddenly appear and rob us. Seriously, I felt a little scared.

Still, as I walked along the wall with my husband, that fear slowly transformed into another feeling: peace.

There was no crowd. No traffic. No noise. Just the mountains, the old stones and an enormous sky. For a while, I simply enjoyed the silence. But sometimes, standing there, I felt as though the silence of Ranikot was almost screaming.

As if it were saying, “I am here. I have survived. I have stories. Come, walk with me and listen.”

And I wanted to listen.

I wanted to know whose hands had built these walls. I wanted to imagine the people who once walked here - the guards standing on the watchtowers, the rulers inside Miri and the people who lived their everyday lives in the shadow of these mountains.

Because while walking through Ranikot, I realised that heritage is not only about stones. Heritage is about people: the people who built it, the people who lived in it, the people who protected it and now, perhaps, people like us who come centuries later, walk through its silence and try to imagine the lives that once existed here.

When we finally decided to leave, we preferred to take the road back towards Karachi while there was still daylight. I looked back at the mountains. I looked at the wall. And I kept thinking about everything I had seen that day - a massive wall, silent watchtowers, hidden water, Miri and Shergarh and mountains full of mystery.

Ranikot made me realise that sometimes history does not disappear; it simply becomes silent. Ranikot is not just a fort. It is a treasure of Sindh’s beauty, culture, architecture and history. It is a place where you can walk along a wall and feel as though you are walking through centuries. It is a place where a dry mountain can hide water, where one fort can hide another and where every turn can reveal another story.

As a traveller, I feel that basic facilities - visible security, trained guides and a small information point - could make the experience much safer and more welcoming without taking away from the natural beauty and silence of Ranikot. If we preserve it, protect it and develop responsible tourism around it, Ranikot can become a destination not only for people from Pakistan but also for travellers from around the world.

The Wall of Sindh is already there. It has survived for generations. It has watched people come and go. Now, perhaps, it is waiting for our footsteps - waiting for someone to tell its story. Ranikot is not just a fort. It is a chapter of Sindh’s history, written in stone.

And perhaps, one day, people will come here not simply to see a wall but to walk through its history, discover its hidden stories and take a little piece of its memory back with them.

Until then, the Wall of Sindh continues to wait.

Silently. Patiently. Waiting to be heard.

Qurat Mudasar is an activist, educationist, traveller and a storyteller. She can be reached at [email protected]