Behold me in the vestibule of Somnat’h, the far-famed shrine of idolatry which lured “the star of Islam” from its orbit amidst the Paropamisan and Ca… - James Tod

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Behold me in the vestibule of Somnat’h, the far-famed shrine of idolatry which lured “the star of Islam” from its orbit amidst the Paropamisan and Caucasus, to the sandy shores of the Indian ocean within the torrid zone; and though now but the shell of what it was, though denuded of its sikra (pinnacle), whose fragments strew the ground, divested of its majestic superstructure, and but the trunk of a once perfect form, yet from its wrecks we may judge of its pristine character. That so much has been spared, we owe to that excess of zeal, which made conquest incomplete without conversion; which transformed the mindra into the mosque, and the altar of the sun-god into a pulpit for the Moollah, whence, while yet reeking with blood, the song of victory resounded amid shouts of ‘La Illah, Mahomed Rusool Illahi,’ ‘There is but one God, and Mahomed is his prophet.’ But without is another symbol of conversion, the pinnacled minarets at the entrance of the temple, the handiwork of the Mooslem artificer, whence the Muezzin of Mahmoud called aloud on the soldiers of the Faith to give glory to God and his prophet, for the victory obtained over the infidel. Could we be assured that any spark of genuine taste and liberal feeling induced him to spare even this mutilated remnant of the days of old, we might try to veil the barbarities inflicted in the name of religion, under the spirit of chivalry which braved the varied perils encountered in her cause; for this, the twelfth expedition of Mahmoud, must be ranked amongst the hardiest enterprises which frenzied ambition, under the cloak of sanctity, ever undertook…