Nabha Siyasat, Heera Mahal and the Return of a Gaddi That Refused to Fade

Scenes from the Dastar Bandi ceremony of Kunwar Abhyuday Pratap Singh of Nabha, the great-great-grandson of H.H Maharaja Ripudaman Singh of the Nabha State, held at the Royal Sheesh Mahal, Nabha.

Punjab has always understood something that official histories often miss: Raaj is not just rule, it is responsibility. Among the Phulkian houses that shaped Sikh political life, Nabha siyasat occupies a distinctive place, less about spectacle and more about continuity, a quiet insistence that Sikh sovereignty is not a relic of the past but a living inheritance.

That is why the moment unfolding in Nabha carries such weight. After 124 years, Sri Akhand Path Sahib has resumed at Heera Mahal, restoring a spiritual rhythm long interrupted. In the same arc of remembrance, Kunwar Abhyudaypratap Singh has been ceremonially installed through Dastar Bandi. This is not merely a family milestone. For Sikhs who feel history in their bones, it is a reminder that some legacies do not disappear. They endure. They wait.

Heera Mahal and Sikh Memory

Heera Mahal has never been just a royal residence. In Sikh memory, it has stood as a space where faith and governance once shared the same breath. Historically associated with Sikh religious practice, including the safekeeping and display of sacred relics of Sri Guru Gobind Singh Ji within its complex, the palace symbolised the Guru’s presence in everyday civic life.

When such spaces fall silent, it feels as though Punjab itself pauses. That is why the resumption of Akhand Path Sahib after more than a century resonates so deeply. Linked in tradition to the family of Bhai Kahn Singh Nabha, through his father Bhai Narain Singh, the return of prayer is not merely ceremonial. It is the reopening of a chapter that history had left unfinished.

Nabha Siyasat and the Burden of History

Nabha siyasat is not a slogan. It is a lived tradition of Sikh statecraft that survived the end of Khalsa Raj by adapting to new realities. Like other princely states, Nabha functioned under British paramountcy. Records note its formal loyalty during the upheaval of 1857. Yet Sikh history has never been one dimensional.

It remembers rupture as clearly as accommodation.

The deposition and exile of Maharaja Ripudaman Singh remains a defining episode. It demonstrated that colonial authority tolerated Sikh rulers only so long as they remained convenient. The moment independence of conscience asserted itself, punishment followed. For Sikhs, this memory matters. It affirms that Sikh institutions were never passive ornaments of empire.

The Gaddi, the Courts, and Quiet Endurance

Succession in the Phulkian states followed primogeniture for the gaddi, a principle recognised by long standing custom. Yet in independent India, the distinction between ceremonial succession and ownership of property required judicial clarity. Over decades, the Nabha family faced legal scrutiny over estates, trusts, and heritage assets, including Heera Mahal itself.

These matters were not settled by proclamation, but through courts, documentation, and due process. The family’s inheritance was examined, contested, and ultimately upheld within the framework of law. What stands out is not triumph, but temperament. There was no public confrontation with institutions, no attempt to convert legacy into entitlement. There was patience, restraint, and faith in process.

For many Punjabis, this ordeal feels deeply familiar. Every family knows what it means to wait through uncertainty, to preserve dignity while files move slowly. In that sense, the Nabha story is not distant royalty. It is profoundly relatable.

A Dastar That Speaks Beyond Bloodline

It is against this backdrop that the Dastar Bandi of Kunwar Abhyudaypratap Singh must be understood.

In Sikh civilisation, the Dastar is never mere attire. It is a discipline. It binds the wearer to humility before the Guru and accountability before the Panth. Those present describe not ostentation, but composure. Not entitlement, but awareness. The understanding that what was being placed upon his head was not privilege, but responsibility.

After generations of disruption, the tying of the Dastar felt less like coronation and more like continuity reclaiming its place.

Why This Moment Matters

Punjabis know what it means for a house to go quiet.

When heritage spaces are reduced to land disputes, when palaces become paperwork, when sacred objects are treated as commodities, something irreplaceable is flattened. That is why earlier controversies surrounding Heera Mahal caused such pain. Not because Sikhs revere royalty, but because Sikhs recognise stewardship.

The return of prayer, ceremony, and visible responsibility feels like a correction. It tells the Sikh heart that history has not abandoned us. We are not only a people of loss. We are also a people of return.

A Testament, Not a Trophy

If the installation of Kunwar Abhyudaypratap Singh is to mean anything beyond headlines, it must be understood as a testament, not a trophy.

A testament to heritage preserved through law, not defiance.A testament to sacred spaces reopened to the sangat.A testament to Nabha siyasat rooted in seva, not spectacle.

The deepest Sikh truth remains unchanged. The highest throne is not gold. It is dharam.

And when Punjab witnesses a Dastar being tied after 124 years of silence, it is not merely watching a prince step forward. It is witnessing Sikh civilisation affirm that it still knows how to carry itself, with dignity, restraint, and unbroken memory.