Once (in the late 1300s, to be precise), there lived a man called Khan-e-Jahan Junaan Shah Telangani. Telangani was Prime Minister to Feroze Shah Tughlaq (reign: 1351-1388), and while the Tughlaq constructed tombs and added to the Qutub Minar, Telangani concentrated on mosques. And concentrated so hard that he churned out- according to popular belief - seven of them. This urge to build mosques may have stemmed from the fact that Telangani was a convert from Hinduism, and felt a need to prove himself. Whatever the reason, he
did make a lot of mosques, and the majestic Khirki Masjid, built in 1375, is one.
The Khirki Masjid can be hard to find, so you have to look out for it. I have to admit that we actually didn’t find it the first time we went looking for it! Take an autorickshaw or taxi to Saket, and get the driver to take you along the main Press Enclave road. Go past Hauz Rani, and just beyond the Khirki Village bus stop, you’ll see a large iron gate on your left, with a sign reading 'Khirki Village'. Get off here, walk in through the gate and look straight ahead - you’ll see the mosque at the end of a short and narrow lane.
The Khirki Masjid is very unlike a lot of other mosques. Firstly, it looks more like a fortress than a mosque (a feature it shares with the Moth ki Masjid). There’s a solid wall all around it, with formidable rounded bastions at the corners. The main gate has forbidding pillars on either side, and is approached by a flight of steps, which we ascended - only to find ourselves suddenly enveloped in an unnerving half-darkness.
The dimness is due to the second prominent feature of Khirki Masjid: it doesn’t have a large sehan in front of it. Instead, the mosque is square in shape, and consists throughout of a series of columns, which divide it into sections, all topped with domes. Except for four small courtyards, where crows were cawing loudly, we could see only rows of rough-hewn columns marching into the evil-smelling gloom. The mosque, no longer in use, seems to have been pretty much taken over by bats. Even in the afternoon, we could hear them squeaking, deep in the shadows of the domes above.
Despite the bats and the darkness, however, this is an interesting (and surprisingly intact) monument. The solid, plain sandstone grills that pierce the walls on all sides and give the mosque its name ('khirki’ means 'window’) let in some light, and the courtyards- especially the one on the far right from the gate - allows you a glimpse of the roof. The domes here have fallen in, but if you ask the gatekeeper, he’ll guide you to where you can go up on the roof, and see the entire building. There were originally eighty-one domes here.
The Khirki Masjid isn’t on the tourist circuit, and entry is free. Don’t arrive before about 10 in the morning, or you may find it closed.