Villager buys Maratha fort for ₹300, state reclaims it

While an 1872 land survey had recorded the structure as ‘Gopalgarh Fort’, a 1960 entry had falsely listed the seven-acre property as barren land

THANE: As a child, Deepak Vaidya had heard tales of an abandoned fort on a sea-facing hillock in Chiplun, in coastal Maharashtra, and went in search of this this forgotten wonder. What he saw as an eight-year-old took his breath away. Surrounded by dense jungle and with no proper road, he walked right up to the fort and was transfixed by its deep trench, crumbling turrets and a step-well that magically still held water.

In the 1960s, the property was auctioned for ₹300 to an Anjanvel resident, Yunus Hussain Maniyar, who developed the historic site into a mango farm . (Pramod Tambe/ HT Photo)

A resident of Anjanvel village, which holds the haunting remains of this Maratha fort, Vaidya returned as a young man, hoping to rekindle the feeling he had experienced as a child. What he saw took his breath away, once more. This time, he was confronted by a sign that read, ‘Simran Mango Farm’.

Vaidya, then a local journalist who has since become a priest, launched a campaign that lasted two decades, one that saw Gopalgad Fort transition from private ownership to the state government.

When Vaidya began to dig into revenue records, he discovered a shocking blunder that had gone largely unnoticed for decades – while an 1872 land survey had recorded the structure as ‘Gopalgarh Fort’, a 1960 entry had falsely listed the seven-acre property as barren land. As a result, in the 1960s, the property was auctioned for ₹300 to an Anjanvel resident, Yunus Hussain Maniyar, who developed the historic site into a mango farm.

The campaign led the villagers to police stations and protests. It also included the Giri Mitra Foundation, a Mumbai-based fort conservation group. But they made no headway. Then, in 2007, Vaidya and local activist Mangesh Pawar attended a Lokshahi Din, a gathering where the district collector addresses issues faced by villagers. They demanded that the government conduct a survey to clarify ownership of the fort. A survey was initiated and it confirmed the fort’s false classification.

After relentless efforts from locals, the state archaeology department eventually documented Gopalgad as government property in 2009 but failed to enforce its claim. Maniyar continued to run ‘Simran Mango Farm’. The fort’s main gate remained locked and anyone attempting to visit the site was unceremoniously turned away.

Enter another campaigner, Akshay Pawar. A resident of Kalyan near Mumbai, and native of Anjanvel, Pawar too was determined to right a historical wrong, albeit of the making of the state government.

Furious with the government’s inaction in enforcing its claim to the fort, Pawar filed several complaints with various government authorities, including local revenue officials and officials with the state archaeology department. “I received threatening calls and police summons but I wasn’t about to give up,” says Pawar, 31, the son of an army officer and a social media marketing professional.

Eventually, in 2016, the state archaeology department installed a board outside the property, declaring that the fort was government property. Maniyar promptly removed the board and, that same year, filed a writ petition in the Bombay High Court, urging the court to declare him as the rightful owner, as he had bought the ‘barren land’ in a government auction in the 1960s. He submitted documents, including the Saat Baara, a local land record, which named him as the owner.

This led Pawar down a rabbit hole, and he began to amass extensive historical evidence to support the government’s bid to take ownership of the fort.

On June 27, 2024, the court ruled that Maniyar’s writ petition was non-maintainable, while acknowledging that there was a “factual dispute” over the land. It directed the state archaeology department to resolve the matter. Upon review, the department confirmed that the fort qualified as a State Protected Monument under the 1960 Act, and issued a notification to this effect.

The department did, however, acknowledge the private ownership of mango trees on the land, and has written to the Maniyar family (Yunus Hussain Maniyar died in 2024), stating that they would compensate the family for the trees. The fort remains protected, it said, and the department would engage with the landowners, according to legal provisions, for the demolition of encroachments.

Vilas Vahane, deputy director, state archaeology department, told HT, “We have initiated the process to reclaim the fort and have also urged the revenue department to remove illegal structures from the site.”

A recent survey confirmed that the fort’s walls remain largely intact, requiring only 20-30% restoration, Vahane said, adding that once the legal formalities are complete, they plan to begin restoration.

The department has its work cut out. Within the fortifications are built structures where the caretakers of the land live. These residents have turned the fort into a filthy mess – there’s garbage in step wells, clothes hanging on historic structures, walls covered in dirt, the entrance is broken, and litter is scattered everywhere. Once a symbol of Maratha pride, the fort now stands in ruins, its grandeur barely visible due to neglect.

Ayyaz Maniyar, grandson of Yunus Hussain Maniyar, told HT that they had purchased the land from the government, fair and square, in 1960. “Since then, we have been maintaining this land, spending up to ₹2 lakh annually on its upkeep,” he said.