The 52 Gates of Aurangabad: A Walking Guide to the City of Darwazas

Every city has a nickname it must live up to. Jaipur is pink, Udaipur has its lakes, and Aurangabad — long before it was Chhatrapati Sambhajinagar on the signboards — earned the title 'City of Gates'. At its height, fifty-two darwazas punctuated the city walls, each one a checkpoint, a customs post, a sundial of daily life. The gates opened at dawn to let farmers in and closed at dusk to keep the city safe.

Around a dozen survive today, and walking between them is the cheapest history lesson in Maharashtra. No ticket, no queue — just a good pair of shoes, an early start, and a willingness to look up while everyone else looks at traffic.

Start at Bhadkal Gate

Built by Malik Ambar around 1612 to commemorate a victory over the Mughals, Bhadkal is the oldest and grandest of them all — a hulking basalt arch that predates the city's Mughal chapter entirely. Stand under it at seven in the morning, when the pigeons outnumber the scooters, and you can almost hear the drumbeats it was built to amplify.

A gate is a wall that learned hospitality.

— A guide at Bhadkal, unprompted, unforgettable

Then the classics: Delhi, Paithan, Rangeen

Delhi Gate, on the northern edge, pointed travellers toward the imperial capital — merchants would rest camels in its shade before the long haul. Paithan Gate faced south toward the ancient silk town of Paithan, and Rangeen Darwaza ('the colourful one') is said to have once been painted in hues that scandalised and delighted in equal measure.

The joy of the walk is the in-between: a chai stop in Gulmandi's lanes, the vegetable market that has operated in a gate's shadow for three centuries, schoolchildren cutting through arches their great-great-grandparents also cut through.

Make a weekend of it

Day one: Bhadkal, Delhi Gate, Rangeen and the old city lanes. Day two: Paithan Gate, Roshan Gate and a detour to Naukhanda Palace's remains. Carry water, go early, and photograph generously — some of these arches have stood for four hundred years, but none of them are getting younger.