HIGHLIGHTS
- A massive fire broke out late Tuesday night, reducing a 400-year-old food market to ruins
- Over 200 firefighters battled the blaze for nearly nine hours before bringing it under control
- No casualties have been reported, but dozens of vendors lost their livelihoods overnight
- Authorities suspect an electrical short circuit, though a formal probe is underway
- The market, built in 1624, was considered the city’s oldest surviving commercial landmark
By a Staff Reporter
The air here still smells of smoke and burnt timber. Where rows of spice stalls and vegetable carts once stood, only charred pillars and twisted metal remain. The city’s oldest food market, a 400-year-old landmark that had survived wars, floods, and famines, was destroyed in a single night.
The fire began around 11:40 p.m. on Tuesday in a closed fabric shop on the market’s eastern edge, according to preliminary reports. Within minutes, flames spread through the narrow, wood-and-brick lanes that generations of traders had called home. “I heard shouting, then a loud crack like thunder,” said Ramesh Yadav, a fruit vendor who has sold mangoes here for 32 years. “By the time I ran out, the entire row was on fire. We could do nothing.”
More than 200 firefighters and 40 fire engines were pressed into service. Because the market’s alleys were too narrow for trucks, crews had to drag hoses on foot. It took nearly nine hours to contain the blaze. By dawn, an estimated 70 percent of the structure had collapsed.
No deaths have been reported, though three firefighters were treated for smoke inhalation. The bigger loss, many say, is cultural. Built in 1624 under a local dynasty, the market was not just a place to buy grain and oil it was a living archive of the city’s identity. Its carved wooden arches and stone weighing scales were protected under heritage laws.
Officials have not ruled out an electrical short circuit as the cause. “A thorough investigation is on,” said the district magistrate. “We will also assess how such a vulnerable structure was left without modern fire safety.”
For the 600-odd vendors who lost their stalls, the morning brought only ash. “My grandfather sold rice here,” said Fatima Bi, holding a half-burnt ledger. “What do I tell my children now?”
The city plans to clear the debris within a week. Whether the market will ever rise again as a replica or a memorial remains uncertain. What is certain is this: a 400-year-old heartbeat has stopped.
