Munish Sood
MANDI:
In the heart of the bustling Indira Market of Mandi, the Himachal Pradesh city lovingly called Chhoti Kashi for its ancient temples and spiritual heritage, stands a structure that has watched time, kings and civilisations pass by.
The Ghantaghar or Clock Tower of Mandi is not just a monument that tells time, but a silent witness to a three-century-old saga of rivalry, revenge and royal pride buried beneath its very foundation.
Built more than seven decades ago, the Ghantaghar remains one of the most recognisable symbols of Mandi’s identity. It was inaugurated on February 28, 1939, in the presence of Raja Joginder Sen, the ruler of the then princely state of Mandi, and Sir Arthur M. Milz, the British Military Advisor-in-Chief. The clock tower was intended to represent the city’s progress and modernization under the princely rule.
But few know that the site chosen for its construction carries a darker, deeper story — one that dates back to the year 1701 CE, when the land beneath the tower witnessed one of the most dramatic confrontations in the history of Himachal’s hill states.
When rivalry turned into bloodshed
Historical accounts reveal that the riyasats of Mandi and Bhangal once shared cordial ties. However, during the reign of Raja Siddh Sen of Mandi, relations deteriorated rapidly. Tensions escalated into open hostility when Raja Siddh Sen captured Raja Prithi Pal Bhangalia, the ruler of the neighboring Bhangal estate.
In a brutal act that changed the course of regional history, Prithi Pal was executed by beheading under the orders of Raja Siddh Sen. Local lore says that his severed head was buried at the very site where the Ghantaghar stands today, while the rest of his body was interred in separate spots around the same ground.
Over time, the site transformed into a small pond, but the areas where the remains were buried were left untouched. For generations, locals believed the soil held restless echoes of that feud — a story whispered through time, seldom written but never forgotten.
From tragedy to timekeeper
Centuries later, as modernisation reached the princely state of Mandi, Raja Joginder Sen envisioned a landmark that would symbolise progress and unity. The pond was filled, the ground levelled and on it rose a majestic clock tower, crafted in the Indo-European architectural style prevalent during the late colonial era.
When the Ghantaghar was inaugurated in 1939, it was more than an architectural accomplishment — it was the transformation of a cursed battleground into a civic symbol. The British-era inauguration plaque, still mounted on its wall, serves as a tangible link between two eras: one of royal strife and another of modernisation.
The structure, now over 77 years old, continues to dominate the skyline of Indira Market. Traders and visitors alike navigate the market lanes by its chimes, and it remains the meeting point for generations of residents, a heart that beats with both commerce and history.
The town of Mandi, known for its over 80 ancient temples, has long been regarded as Chhoti Kashi, a sacred mirror of Varanasi. The Ghantaghar, standing tall at the city’s centre, complements this spiritual identity with its historical gravitas.
According to historian and researcher Nutan Sharma, “The Ghantaghar is more than a monument; it is a living chapter of Mandi’s princely past. The very soil beneath it is intertwined with stories of conquest, betrayal, and redemption. Even after centuries, the echoes of Raja Siddh Sen’s feud and the fate of Prithi Pal Bhangalia linger in local memory.”
For heritage enthusiasts and historians, the site remains an untapped treasure trove — offering insights into the politics, architecture, and emotions of an era when pride and vengeance shaped destinies.
Today, as the market around the Ghantaghar buzzes with modern life, the clock continues its measured rhythm — indifferent yet enduring. Few who walk past realize that beneath their feet lies a battlefield turned memorial, a royal secret sealed in stone.
