'The Nizams Were More Than Just Wealthy Rulers Sitting on Diamonds and Jewels': Mir Osman Ali Khan's Great-Grandson Azam Jah on Legacy and Hyderaba...

Centuries before Hyderabad became synonymous with its Dakhni tehzeeb, pearls and palaces, it was the seat of one of India's most influential and prosperous princely states. The story began in 1724, when Mir Qamar-ud-Din Ali Khan Siddiqi, better known as Asaf Jah I, established the Asaf Jahi dynasty after the decline of Mughal authority in the Deccan. Appointed Naib of the Deccan by Mughal Emperor Farrukhsiyar with the title Nizam-ul-Mulk, Asaf Jah I laid the foundation of an independent kingdom that would shape the region's politics, architecture, arts and cultural life for more than two centuries. The title "Nizam of Hyderabad" soon became synonymous with one of the world's wealthiest and most culturally influential royal houses. Mir Osman

Ali Khan was the seventh and last ruling Nizam of Hyderabad and was widely regarded as one of the world's first billionaires. Before his death, he named his grandson Mukarram Jah as his successor, who became the titular eighth Nizam of Hyderabad.More than seven decades after Hyderabad's integration into the Indian Union, the legacy of the Asaf Jahi dynasty continues to live on. In an interview with Times Now Digital, Prince Azam Jah, the second son of Mukarram Jah, speaks about growing up with the weight of history, the stories handed down through generations, and his family's lasting connection to Hyderabad.

Q: What was it like growing up as part of the family of Nizams of Hyderabad in post-independence India — did you feel more history, or more distance from it?

Azam Jah: As a child, it was brilliant. Who wouldn't want to spend their younger years running around the old grounds of Chiraan Palace and playing in all the old palaces like Chowmahalla and King Kothi back then. I was never distant from it, and my father always made a point of making me a part of it and it a part of me.

Q: At home, did you grow up hearing stories of your great- grandfather Mir Osman Ali Khan?

Azam Jah: Yes, many. Some I share, and some I keep to myself, as that's a discussion between father and son.My father would talk about him a lot. He was a very impressive figure, and my father held him in the highest possible regard. Of course, he talked about all the man's achievements, but I could always tell he was disappointed with the reputation Mir Osman had and that people would talk negatively about him. His achievements for his people and the state of Hyderabad speak for themselves. My father talked a great deal about him and his character, and all of it left me with a very positive view of him.

Q: What part of the Nizam legacy feels most alive to you in today's Hyderabad?

Azam Jah: The legacy can be seen in parts of the city, in its streets, and most powerfully in the voices of the people when they speak about the Nizams and their work. There is still a genuine warmth and reverence there that has nothing to do with politics or titles; it comes from a real, lived memory passed down through generations of what the Nizams meant to that city and its people. The palaces, like Purani Haveli, stand as a testament to that era, as do the universities and the infrastructure that were put in place.My greatest wish was that Esra, my father's first wife, and the GPA had never sold King Kothi. I loved that palace, and my father even more so. He used to refer to it as "Grandfather's house." I never agreed with it being sold, and I think it should never have left the hands of my family.

Q: What do you think was the most forward-looking decision taken during the Nizam period that still shapes Hyderabad?

Azam Jah: My first thoughts would be the contributions to education, healthcare, and infrastructure. These are three of the most important pillars of any human society. Knowledge belongs to the people, and so does a good healthcare system. The hospitals, universities, and schools built during the Nizam period were among the most forward-looking contributions of that era, and they have delivered countless success stories and will continue to do so for a long time to come.The Nizams understood that a city's future is built in its classrooms and in the health of its people. When you look at Hyderabad today, known across the world as a centre of technology and learning, it is easy to assume that this is a recent story. But its foundation was laid a very long time ago.To go back to an earlier question about Mir Osman, my father used to tell me that he was an avid supporter of the arts and creative culture and did his level best to promote them. When you think about the time he was doing that, I think that's very forward-thinking.

Q: What is a memory or anecdote about Mir Osman Ali Khan that never made it into mainstream narratives? Did he have any habits, routines, or quirks that people today would find surprising?

Azam Jah: A lot of the stories are true. He didn't dress in flashy clothes, he smoked little cigarettes from the bazaar, and his room in King Kothi was very small considering how big the palace was. He used to sit on the front steps, and when he was thinking, he would rub his foot on the step. He sat out there so often that there was a small groove in the top step where he would sit and think as he got older. He rubbed it so much that it shaped the marble step. He really and truly left his mark, you could say....

Q: How does your family preserve history?

Azam Jah: Unfortunately for me, my whole family has passed away. Anything real or concrete I had was ripped away from me the moment my father died. All I have left are the stories he told, but those are a great gift from him.

Q: How often do you visit Hyderabad? When you walk through places like Chowmahalla or Falaknuma, what do you personally feel — pride, responsibility, nostalgia, or something more complicated?

Azam Jah: I haven't been able to walk through any of them since my father died. I used to go to Hyderabad a great deal after he died for my fight, but now it's too dangerous for me to return. I have a place in Delhi now and do most of my business from there.

Q: What does royalty mean today when the formal political structure no longer exists?

Azam Jah: Legally, it means nothing, and I say that plainly because I think it is important to be honest about it. The Government made that clear in 1971: there are no more Nizams, no more privy purses, and no more formal recognition. My father was the last recognised Nizam of Hyderabad, and that is a matter of documented fact. What does remain, and what cannot be legislated away, is heritage, culture, and the memory of what this dynasty contributed. Royalty, in that sense, lives in the people who remember, in the institutions that still stand, and in those of us who carry the name and feel a responsibility to uphold what it represents not as a title, but as a standard of conduct.

Q: Do you feel more like a custodian of history or an individual building your own identity beyond it? How do younger members of the family relate to this legacy — do they carry it differently than older generations?

Azam Jah: I think I am both, and I don't see them as being in conflict. When I look in the mirror, I don't see Prince Azam Jah; rather, I see just a person. I have lived a very private life, away from the spotlight, very much by choice. But I also feel a genuine responsibility toward this legacy, toward what my father represented and what my great-grandfather built. The fight I am in right now is an expression of both. It is deeply personal, and it is also about something much larger than me. As for the younger generation, I can only speak from what I observe. I think the connection to the history is perhaps less visceral for those who didn't grow up hearing it told the way my father told it to me.

Q: If you could tell Mir Osman Ali Khan one thing about Hyderabad today, what would it be?

Azam Jah: I would tell him that the city not only remembers him but genuinely loves him. That the infrastructure he built still functions. That Osmania University still stands. That when people in the old city speak his name, they do so with real affection and pride, not just out of historical obligation. I think he would be moved by that because, from everything my father told me, what he cared about most was his people.

Q: What do you hope people 50 years from now will understand correctly about your family's legacy?

Azam Jah: I believe people will remember that the Nizams were more than just wealthy rulers sitting on diamonds and jewels; they were builders and visionaries. They invested in their people at a time when that was not the norm. I would also hope that my father, Mukarram Jah, is remembered with the compassion he deserves, as a man who was deeply loved by his people, who faced enormous difficulties, who was repeatedly let down by those he trusted, but who carried his history with dignity until his dying day. He deserved better than what happened to him in his final years, and I hope history reflects that clearly.

Q: What is the one emotion you most associate with your family's history — pride, responsibility, loss, continuity, or something else?

Azam Jah: For me, it is pride and responsibility in equal measure. Every time you hear the name of this city or the Asaf Jahi dynasty spoken with respect, you stand a little straighter. There is a quiet but very real pride that comes with carrying this name. At the same time, that pride comes hand in hand with a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude toward the city and its people, who have given so much to this dynasty over generations. I carry both of those things with me wherever I go.