Kotob Minar. This 73 meter tall tower that has empiriously lauded it over the city of Delhi for hundreds of years actually still remains the tallest brick minaret in the whole world. Its history is more than just a simple story. So what we know is that the first ever Muslim ruler of India, the first Sultan, Kotob Odin Ebak commissioned this minar in 1199 AD when he was a commander for the Guru Dhrulag Yasuddin Ghori. But just as the first story was completed, Ebak died. And then his successor, Ilthutmish continued the work of his father-in-law, Ebak, and added more stories to this minaret. Ebak and Ilthutmish both had started out in the same way. They were both slaves who ultimately became kings. As young boys they were sold and resold from one master to another in the markets of Persia. Which is also why their dynasty, the first ever Muslim dynasty in India, is called the Mamluk dynasty. Mamluk in Arabic means property and slaves were a property. Both Ilthutmish and Ebak spent their childhood slave years around the city of Jam in Afghanistan, which has a similar minaret as the Kotob Minar. So it's quite probable that that minaret shaped the idea of power and rule in their minds and which is why they tried to make the same one when they became rulers. But the Kotob Minar could not possibly have brought the joy that it brings to its visitors now, back when it was built to the natives of Delhi. Because back then, coming of the Gurids to Delhi was the biggest ever power shift people had witnessed. The Gurids had defeated the Rajputs and established the first ever Muslim rule in Delhi. Imagine the confusion and the horror of the people of Delhi. But history is always written by winners. The Kotob Minar is trying to tell us so many things through its Arabic and Nagori writings. These inscriptions tell us of Kotob Bouddin Ebak destroying some pavilions that had existed on this site before the Minar, but there is no mention that he did this to raise any Minar in their stead, which throws us entirely off balance because if the pavilions were removed to build a minaret, that's exactly what the prescriptions would have proudly told us. But they don't. From these writings, we know that there definitely were Hindu temples that were reshaped, remodeled in some way. Looking at the inscriptions, we don't even find any mention of Kotob Bouddin Ebak himself either, except just one actually. From the contrary, we find more references to this Minar being a dedication by Ilthutmish Kotob Bouddin Ebak's successor to the Muslim saint Kotob Bouddin Bhaktiar Kaki. So this monument might just be for him, which kind of makes sense because right alongside the Kotob Minar was commissioned a mosque, which became the first ever mosque of northern India, the Kuvatul Islam mosque. And the idea is that this Minar was supposed to be used by the Muayzin for the Azan call. But that the Kotob Minar is five-story stall. It has 379 steps, which is a nightmarish prospect for any old Muayzin to climb five stories a day, five times, and scream out an Azan which nobody on the ground would be able to hear let alone in the neighborhood. And would it really be okay for a place with such a religious purpose to still allow remnants of the previous Hindu religious structures, like these lotuses, these colourishes, these temple bells to stay when they could just as easily have been smashed and removed like many others clearly were. Another evidence suggests that Kotob does not come from Kotob Bouddin Ebak's name or the saint's name, but that in Arabic it actually means astronomy. This leads us to the fact that Mehroly comes from the Sanskrit word Mehir Avali. Coming from the time when Varaha Mehir, the astronomer under King Vikramaditya, lived in this region around 4th century BC and had a tall tower for his tonnual study surrounded by 27 pavilions for the 27 constellations of the Hindu Zodiac. In Tariqe Alay, the records of Alauddin Kiljee's work left by his contemporary Amir Khustro bless him, tells us of Kiljee erecting this alay Darwaza right here, and also of having ambitions to raise a rival Minarit taller than the Kotob Minar itself. Of course that never happened because Kiljee commissioned the work in 1311 and died in 1316 when the work stopped. So now you just see this one sitting right there, awkwardly, the first story. I guess we'll never completely know the history of the Kotob Minar and that's because records are lost. History does not happen in a clear linear pattern, and sadly it is written by winners, rewritten by the ones who win next or manipulated by the ones who couldn't get to write them in the first place. So it is now up to the monument itself to tell us its story through its walls, gateways through its stones, like these jalees here. When you look at these star and hexagonal patterns, you realize they're trying to tell us something. You realize there is a continuity in them. As in there's no beginning and an end, which represents the idea of infinity, God. And then if you look at these tiny ball-like motifs on top of the dome of Imamsa means tomb and the Al-Aidar Baza, they remind of the Amla motifs which have been used in Khaju Raho temples. These actually are the Goosberis, the Goosberi idea which is very sacred to the Hindus. This hexagon right here, the first look of this might tell you this is a Jewish symbol, which is correct. But actually, this hexagon is used in Jadezm, Islam, in Christianity, in Buddhism and even in some prehistoric tribes going as far away as Mexico. In Hinduism, this means Shiv Shakti which is a union of masculine and feminine energies representing cosmic creation. In Islam, this is the star of David and the seal of Solomon. In other philosophies, this, the very same star represents the union of man and God, leaving us much to ponder about. When man disrupts history, it is up to these silent stones to whisper the best stories. And the kut of minar seems to be doing a pretty enchanting job of it.