Ibn Battuta’s India: A Reimagined Journey Through His Chronicles

Ibn Battuta’s writings offer one of the most detailed glimpses into everyday life and imperial administration in medieval India. Among his earliest observations is the highly organised postal courier system that operated across the subcontinent. He describes a network where horsemen were stationed every four miles and foot-runners every mile. Each runner carried a small box for the length of his route, passing it seamlessly to the next courier—a relay system that ensured remarkable speed and efficiency for the age.

Beyond administrative marvels, Battuta recorded the people and practices he encountered. He wrote of Jogis performing astonishing feats on the streets, and he noted—with a mixture of curiosity and horror—the ritual of sati, the immolation of widows. His eye wandered to the quirks of courtly consumption as well: he mentions the steady supply of paan and betel nut to the imperial capital, sourced from Chanderi near Gwalior, now renowned for its distinctive saris.

His love for India’s natural bounty is palpable, especially in his descriptions of trees and fruits. Battuta adored the jackfruit, calling it “the loveliest of all fruits in Hindustan”. The mango, however, fascinated him in unexpected ways. He wrote:

“The fruit is about the size of a large damask prune. When green and not quite ripe, those that fall are salted and preserved, just as lemons are preserved with us. In the same manner, they preserve ginger when it is green, and pods of pepper, which they eat with their meals.”

From such passages we learn that a mango-and-ginger pickle accompanied ordinary meals. Battuta also catalogued dals, chicken cooked in ghee, and the elaborate spreads at royal feasts. These, he noted, began with chapattis, followed by roast meat, sambusak (samosas), and chicken on rice, before ending with sweets such as halwa and almond pudding.

His portrayal of Sultan Muhammad bin Tughlaq is among the most striking in his travelogue. Battuta presents him as brilliant yet deeply eccentric, capable of wild temper and harsh judgement. The most dramatic episode he records is the Sultan’s decision to uproot the entire population of Delhi and force them to move to Daulatabad—an ordeal from which not even the blind or the infirm were exempt.

He writes:

“The Sultan was far too free in shedding blood. He punished small faults and great alike, without regard for men of learning, piety, or noble descent. Each day hundreds of people were brought to the audience hall, chained and fettered, and were executed, tortured, or beaten.”

A Chance to Escape the Court

Battuta’s opportunity to leave this unsettling environment came when the Emperor of China sent an embassy to Delhi. In response, Tughlaq planned a grand mission of his own, with lavish gifts, and appointed Battuta as his ambassador to China. But the journey proved perilous. The caravan was ambushed by dacoits, and Battuta narrowly escaped with his life.

Shaken yet undeterred, he decided to continue travelling. He headed south, stopping first at the formidable fort of Deogiri—renamed Daulatabad by Tughlaq—whose vast walls stretched for nearly three miles. He also remarked on the Marathas of the region, describing their simple diet of rice, greens, and sesame oil, and noting with interest how carefully they washed their food.

Into the Green Heart of the Malabar Coast

From the Deccan, Battuta made his way further south to the Malabar coast, which he described with admiration. The roads, he noted, wound entirely under the shade of trees. Every half-mile stood a wooden rest house with small chambers for travellers and a well for drinking water. Hospitality was free and universal:

“Upon anyone’s arriving, they cook and pour out a drink for him on a leaf of banana; whatever he leaves is given to the dogs.”

He marvelled at the thriving trade in Malabar’s ports—especially Calicut and Kollam—where ships from China and Persia came to buy pepper, enriching a class of powerful merchants. He observed that Kerala’s Muslims favoured a dish called rasoi, made of rice, meat, and coconut milk.

Battuta remained in Calicut for three months before embarking for China. On the way, he paused in the Maldives—“one of the wonders of the world”, as he called them—revelling briefly in their tropical beauty. It is from here that his Indian narrative draws to a close.