Nurjahan Mosque: 300 years without a single call to prayer

As the sun leans westward and prepares to set, marking the beginning of Maghrib prayers, silence blankets the aged structure of the Nurjahan Mosque. No call to prayer echoes from within, no congregants gather to worship. For three hundred years, not once has this mosque resounded with the azan, nor has a single rak’ah of salat been performed within its walls. Built from lime, surki, and burnt bricks, this eerie, silent monument stands as a haunting witness to a forgotten history. Officially known as the Nurjahan Mosque, locals more commonly refer to it as “Nati Bibi’s Mosque.”

An exceptional example of 17th-century Islamic architecture, the mosque still reflects the brilliance of a bygone era. Its walls are seven feet thick, constructed from bricks and lime-surki. The main prayer hall is crowned by a solitary dome, and the walls are adorned with intricate terracotta motifs. Inside, visitors encounter finely detailed carvings—Arabic calligraphy intertwined with floral and geometric patterns that remain remarkably visible even today.

Though once built on the riverbank, the mosque now stands amidst a densely populated area. Cracks split its walls, roots of trees pierce through the ceiling, and much of the dome has collapsed—buried beneath this decay is a painful chapter of gendered societal stigma.

The Nurjahan Mosque is located in Majhigacha village of Adarsha Sadar Upazila, Cumilla. Wrapped in folklore and mystery, the mosque is believed by archaeologists to have been constructed sometime between 1714 and 1734. According to popular local legend, its founder was a woman named Nurjahan, once a court dancer in the royal palace of Tripura’s Maharaja Dharma Manikya II. She lived in Majhigacha with her two sisters—Mogorjan and Fuljan. One day, a young Nurjahan was bitten by a snake, and her family, believing her to be dead, set her adrift on the Gomti River. Members of the Tripura royal court discovered her and brought her to the palace, where she was revived and later trained in dance and music by the chief court dancer, Menaka.

After performing at the royal court for nearly 35 years, Nurjahan returned to her village. The Maharaja gifted her land, gold, and wealth for her service. Back home, she lived under the identity of a zamindar’s widow and supported the local community. Being a devout Muslim by birth, she commissioned the construction of a mosque.

But soon, villagers learned of her past as a dancer. A community meeting was held, and a decision was made: no prayers would be held in a mosque built with money earned from dancing. That verdict has held to this day. As a result, the exquisitely crafted mosque became abandoned and eventually fell into disrepair.

Nurjahan’s final years were reportedly filled with sorrow and isolation. Some say she lost her mental balance and disappeared, while others believe she died by suicide. Locals point to a grave beside the mosque they claim is hers.

Today, the crumbling mosque clings to life—its structure partially held together by the roots of a nearby banyan tree. Sawmills and shops built on the east, south, and west sides of the mosque have obscured it from plain sight. Parts of the dome have collapsed, cracks spread across the walls, and wild vegetation has overrun the roof. Residents believe even a slight push could bring the whole structure down.

The mosque lies along the left side of the Majhigacha–Nandir Bazar Road, just past the Gomti Bridge near Cumilla city. Despite its neglected state, it still draws curious visitors from different parts of the country.

A visit by Views Bangladesh led to a conversation with Masud (60), a resident of Iman Ali Haji Bari and a descendant of the same lineage as Nurjahan Bibi. He said, “Our ancestors were devout Muslims. When the Nurjahan Mosque was abandoned, they built another mosque nearby, where prayers have been held since. Without maintenance, the original mosque has gradually crumbled. Perhaps it’s by some miracle that it still stands today.”

Eighty-year-old Mohon Mia recalled, “When we were children, this mosque stood by the riverside. We never dared to go near it. People believed it was haunted or held supernatural energy.”

The surrounding shops and land are now owned by Fazlu Mia and his brothers, sons of Soru Mia, a local leader during the Pakistan era. The structures have been in their possession since then.

When Views Bangladesh contacted the local land office, officials admitted they were unsure about the mosque’s original land records. For now, the land is listed as khas (government-owned) and officially allocated to Soru Mia’s family.

Shah Alam, a cable TV businessman in Cumilla and son of Soru Mia, stated, “I don’t know the full history of the property. As far as I know, it’s government land, and we were granted it through settlement. My elder brother Fazlu knows more.” However, Fazlu Mia was in the hospital and unavailable for comment.

Land office sources confirmed the site once belonged to the Water Development Board. As the river changed course and people began settling nearby, the land was reclassified as khas and allotted to various claimants.

Dr. Ataur Rahman, former regional director of the Department of Archaeology (Chattogram & Sylhet), said, “I have visited the site several times. This mosque near the Gomti River deserves to be preserved.”

Md. Abu Sayeed Inam Tanvirul, field officer of the Department of Archaeology’s Cumilla office, told Views Bangladesh, “We’ve inspected the mosque. It’s in an extremely fragile state. A proposal will be submitted. If approved, it may fall under the conservation program.”

Dr. Nahid Sultana, current regional director of the Department of Archaeology (Chattogram & Sylhet), confirmed multiple visits to the site. She said, “The mosque is overwhelmed by trees and their roots, which have severely damaged the structure. Conservation in its current state won’t yield good results. Nevertheless, we’ll send a report to the head office and recommend a high-level team for assessment.”

Dr. Muhammad Sohrab Uddin, Associate Professor of Archaeology at Cumilla University, said, “The exact construction date remains unverified, though our team has visited the site multiple times. The design and craftsmanship point to it being a late-Mughal structure. It’s clear that the woman who built it was devout—constructing such a mosque alone would have required deep religious conviction.”

He added, “This isn’t just an ancient mosque; it is a silent testament to our society, culture, and history. The government must act immediately to preserve it.”

Regarding Nurjahan herself, Dr. Uddin reflected: “Today, we invite dancers to cultural events with respect. But in her time, an artist had to prove herself under extreme scrutiny. Society often saw them through a divided lens—admired by some, shunned by others. This duality is at the heart of Nurjahan’s tragedy.”

He concluded, “This mosque conveys two powerful messages: first, that a woman 300 years ago could earn enough through her skill to build a mosque, reflecting women's agency and economic presence; second, that religious rigidity and superstition can condemn a sacred structure to centuries of silence.”

To Dr. Uddin, Nurjahan Mosque is a 'silent protest of history'—one that must be preserved not just as architecture but as a symbol of our social consciousness.

To Cumilla’s younger generation, Nurjahan Mosque is not just a decaying dome—it is a living testament to a woman’s sacrifice, to cultural contradiction, and to the ongoing struggle between faith and humanity. With proper conservation, they believe the mosque holds vast potential for heritage tourism, historical research, and literary inspiration.