By Fakhar-e-Alam PESHAWAR, Jul 08 (APP):The butterflies that once danced above rain-soaked flowerbeds in Peshawar's historic Wazirbagh have disappeared due to sheer neglect and poor maintenance. The visitors will be extremely disappointed to see that in place of butterflies, crows circle over broken branches, dusty pathways and scattered plastic waste, showing a poignant reminder of how one of the city's oldest Mughal-era gardens has gradually lost its splendor. For generations …
Fading grandeur: Wazirbagh’s Mughal majesty slips into silence
By Fakhar-e-Alam
PESHAWAR, Jul 08 (APP):The butterflies that once danced above rain-soaked flowerbeds in Peshawar’s historic Wazirbagh have disappeared due to sheer neglect and poor maintenance.
The visitors will be extremely disappointed to see that in place of butterflies, crows circle over broken branches, dusty pathways and scattered plastic waste, showing a poignant reminder of how one of the city’s oldest Mughal-era gardens has gradually lost its splendor.
For generations of Peshawarites, Wazirbagh was far more than a public park. It was where childhood memories were created, friendships blossomed beneath towering trees, and families escaped the scorching summer heat to enjoy cool shade, birdsong and the fragrance of blooming flowers after the monsoon rains.
Today, many visitors struggle to recognize the once-iconic garden where garbage replaced flowers and greenery with mud dust.
Children who once chased butterflies across its lush green vast lawns now weave through patches of dust and litter, a saga of poor upkeep.
The giant pipal, siris and shisham trees that formed a dense green canopy where families spent time have largely disappeared, taking with them countless birds, squirrels and the tranquil atmosphere that once defined the beauty of garden.
The silence is perhaps the most painful change for senior citizens of Peshawar who were eyeing the KP Govt for its upkeep and removal of encroachments to restore its original grandeur.
“I returned to Wazirbagh after almost 20 years and my heart sank,” said retired government servant Misal Khan, his voice heavy with emotion as he watched his grandchildren playing around an aging tree.
“This historic place was the pride of Peshawar. We spent our childhood here. The thick pipal trees were so dense that even on the hottest afternoons of July, it felt like evening beneath their shade. Seeing those trees gone hurts the most.”
As he spoke to APP at Wazirbagh, memories flooded back to the senior citizen.
He recalled elderly men gathering beneath the sprawling canopies to exchange stories of day-to-day affairs over cups of tea while families spread picnic mats across emerald lawns, enjoying the mouthwatering Chappli Kabab with traditional Qehwa.
He said children arrived with relatives, climbed trees, butterflies fluttered among seasonal flowers, and birds filled the air with constant melodies, while students were busy in studies at Wazirbagh, located some 10 kilometers south of Balahisar fort.
During spring and the monsoon season, flowering plants painted the garden in brilliant colours, while fruit-bearing apricot, pear and pomegranate trees attracted visitors from across the city.
“Wazirbagh was alive,” Misal Khan recalled when he was in his 50s. “It was not just a park, but it was part of our socio-cultural centre and identity of Peshawar.”
He remembered how members of the Shinwari, Afridi, Mohmand and Khattak communities regularly visited the garden alongside tourists and foreign guests, turning it into a vibrant cultural meeting place where people from different backgrounds relaxed together.
But decades of neglect, unchecked encroachments and inadequate maintenance gradually stripped away that character.
Broken benches, shrinking flowerbeds, cracked pathways and dying vegetation now dominate much of the landscape. Plastic waste has replaced petals, while many of the birds and butterflies that once thrived in the garden have vanished with the loss of mature trees.
The decline is not limited to Wazirbagh alone, but historic green spaces across Peshawar, including Shalimar Garden and Jinnah Park, have steadily shrunk under mounting urban pressure.
Residents said the construction of the Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) corridor near Firdous Square significantly reduced the area of Jinnah Park, further limiting recreational opportunities in an increasingly congested city.
Urban planners warned that the disappearance of public green spaces comes at a time when rapidly expanding cities desperately need parks to counter rising temperatures, improve air quality and provide healthy recreational outlets for growing populations.
Environmental experts said that mature trees not only reduce urban heat but also absorb carbon dioxide, improve biodiversity and create habitats for birds, butterflies and beneficial insects. Losing decades-old trees means losing ecological systems that cannot be replaced overnight.
Bakhtzada Muhammad, Assistant Director at the Directorate of Archaeology and Museums, said Wazirbagh occupies a unique place in the history of Peshawar.
Built in 1810 by Sardar Fateh Mohammad Khan Barkzai, popularly known as Wazir, the garden was established after his victory over the forces of Shah Shuja. It was laid out near his residence in southern Peshawar and soon became one of the city’s most admired Mughal-style gardens.
Adjacent to the garden lie the historic Durrani Royal graveyard and the tomb of Beejo Bibi, a consort of Shah Taimur, son of Ahmad Shah Abdali, adding further historical significance to the area.
Even renowned British explorer and diplomat Sir Alexander Burnes recorded his visit to the garden in 1832, describing its pleasant surroundings and resting beneath the magnificent trees that no longer exist.
For historians, Wazirbagh represents not merely a recreational space but a living monument connecting modern Peshawar with its Mughal, Durrani and colonial past.
There have been efforts to reverse the decline. Under the “New Peshawar, Old Charm” initiative, former Chief Minister Mahmood Khan approved Rs100 million for the restoration of Wazir Bagh. The Local Government Department launched conservation work that included renovation of pathways, fountains, pavilions and lawns while preserving the garden’s historic character.
Authorities also removed illegal structures, rusting vehicles, advertising billboards, construction debris and tangled overhead utility wires from around the historic site. Underground electricity lines and improved access roads were planned to enhance both aesthetics and visitor convenience.
Officials believed these measures marked an important beginning, but conservationists argued that sustained maintenance, protection from encroachments and extensive plantation drives are essential if the garden is to regain its former glory.
Misal Khan believed that the restoration must go beyond cosmetic improvements.
“We need to bring back the native trees, flowers and birds,” he said. “If necessary, charge a small entry fee so the park can be maintained properly and protected from misuse.”
He hoped future generations would once again experience the Wazirbagh he remembers—a place where butterflies floated through blooming gardens, children laughed beneath towering trees and families gathered without the distractions of modern city life.
Experts stressed that parks are far more than open spaces. They improve physical and mental health, reduce pollution, strengthen community bonds and preserve the cultural memory of cities.
As Peshawar continues to expand, they said the fate of Wazirbagh poses a larger question: Can a city protect the heritage that shaped its identity while embracing modern development?
For now, the fading garden waits quietly as its weathered pathways and aging trees bear silent witness to a glorious past and to the hope that one day its butterflies may return.
