The Koh-I-Noor: A Diamond’s Odyssey Across Empires

-Vani Mishra
Few things have lived as many lives as the Koh-I-Noor. Its very name, Mountain of Light in Persian, is redolent of both beauty and tragedy. It has gone from hand to hand like a power talisman, coveted not merely for what it was, but for the aura of power it was thought to bestow. The Koh-I-Noor is more than a diamond. It is a reflection of history, a mirror of the ambitions, greed, and dreams of rulers who conquered it.
When one follows its path, the diamond is more than a gem. It is a witness to the rise and fall of empires, to armies marching, to the change of cultures, and to the quiet passing of time. To possess it, rulers thought, was to possess fate. And yet, despite all its glitter, the stone has also been a bringer of grief, shrouded in stories of bad luck for the men who owned it.
The First Spark: Origins in the Mines of Golconda
The history of the Koh-I-Noor starts in the legendary diamond mines of Golconda in southern India. These mines, centuries before Africa or South America emerged as centres of diamond production, produced some of the world’s most legendary stones. It was here, most likely sometime in the thirteenth or fourteenth century, that the Koh-I-Noor was taken from the earth. Its early history is lost, shrouded in legend and conjecture. Some accounts indicate that the diamond existed in the Kakatiya dynasty treasury, as part of a temple idol, before the invaders stole it. Whether religious or secular in its initial environment, the jewel soon became something not just of wealth but of dominion. The holder of it asserted not just wealth but the touch of fortune’s blessing.
The Mughals and Shah Jahan’s Splendour
By the sixteenth century, the diamond had come into the hands of the Mughal emperors, who established their empire on the wealth of India. For the Mughals, jewels were not merely ornaments; they were a kingship language, each stone filled with cosmic and political meaning.
Shah Jahan, the emperor who commissioned the Taj Mahal, is said to have set the Koh-I-Noor in his legendary Peacock Throne. Picture the throne: studded with rubies, emeralds, and pearls, shining under the light of lamps. At its centre, the Koh-I-Noor sparkled as if it were the very heart of the empire. It was not mere decoration. To the visitors, it declared the grandeur of Mughal power, a blinding incarnation of sovereignty.
But, as with so many of its treasures, its splendour could not save the empire from disintegration. When Nader Shah of Persia captured Delhi in 1739, the Peacock Throne and the Koh-I-Noor were among the spoils taken away. It is said that when Nader Shah saw the diamond for the first time, he cried out, Koh-I-Noor and so named the stone.
Persian Fortunes and Afghan Hands
The history of the diamond after the sack of Delhi was as chequered as the politics of the region. In Persia, it remained with Nader Shah as a part of his enormous plunder. But soon after his assassination, his empire split, and the diamond again fell into the stream of history.
It later fell into the hands of Ahmad Shah Durrani, the founder of the Afghan Empire. For the Afghans as well, the Koh-I-Noor became a symbol of royalty, worn on the battlefield and in ritual. The Durrani leaders bore it through decades of warfare, each succeeding ruler convinced that it was a charm of legitimacy. But Afghan power was unstable, and the diamond would not stay there long.
The Sikh Empire and Ranjit Singh’s Treasure
During the early nineteenth century, the Koh-I-Noor once again crossed into India, this time into Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s hands of the Punjab. The Lion of the Punjab, as he was dubbed, established a mighty kingdom with Lahore as its capital. For Ranjit Singh, the Koh-I-Noor represented conquest as well as divine bounty.
The Maharaja wore the stone on his turban or arm, proudly exhibiting it. His connection to the diamond was, however, not merely decorative. Towards the end of his days, he instructed that the Koh-I-Noor be bequeathed to the Puri temple of Jagannath, a move that was symbolic of his attempt to consecrate what had traditionally been a symbol of monachal authority. But his courtiers, fearing to lose so valuable a jewel, disregarded his wishes.
Into British Hands: The Jewel in the Crown
The last leg of the diamond’s passage was in the mid-nineteenth century when the era of British colonial expansion was at its peak. The East India Company after the annexation of Punjab in 1849 acquired the Koh-I-Noor and gifted it to Queen Victoria. It was showcased in London with much fanfare, though most of the onlookers initially thought it to be less sparkling than they had envisioned.
To bring out its brilliance, the diamond was re-cut in London, its size diminished but its sparkle heightened. It was subsequently set into the British Crown Jewels, where it still sits today, on the crowns of successive queens. In Britain, the Koh-I-Noor was also a symbol of imperial victory, a tangible sign of empire’s grasp into the riches of the East.
But for most Indians, it turned into something different: a symbol of loss, of cultural appropriation, and of the inequalities of colonial power. Its path from Lahore to London summarized the grand narrative of India’s colonisation.
A Stone of Light and Shadow
The history of the Koh-I-Noor is as much sad as it is beautiful. Legend frequently accused the diamond of bringing bad luck to any man that owned it, although women were safe from its curse. In fact, several rulers who owned the diamond died violent deaths or ruled over failing empires. Whether or not one is a believer in curses, the correlation of the stone with upheaval is impressive.
What cannot be disputed is that the Koh-I-Noor has never been merely a gem. It has been a political tool, a cultural symbol, and a disputed inheritance. Its brilliance hides centuries of conquest, migration, and struggles for power.
The Contemporary Debate: Who Owns the Koh-I-Noor?
Today, the Koh-I-Noor is still at the centre of arguments over heritage and restitution. Indian, Pakistani, Iranian, and Afghan governments have all made claims to it at some point. The British Crown has insisted its title is valid and absolute. But the debate continues, for the diamond is imbued with the power of memory.
For most in South Asia, to view the Koh-I-Noor in the Tower of London is to know the absence of something close and dear. It is not so much a question of owning a stone as of dignity, history, and acknowledgment of wounds inflicted by empire.
Conclusion: More Than a Jewel
To trace the Koh-I-Noor down the course of time is to trace the flow of history itself. It has moved over mountains and seas, palaces and battlefields, changing hands from emperors, invaders, maharajas, and monarchs. It has seen the brilliance of the Mughal court, the turmoil of Afghan domination, the glory of the Sikh kingdom, and the extent of the British Empire.
And yet, in all its brilliance, the diamond is oddly silent, unmoved by the human dramas that swirled around it. Its history teaches us that history is not just about monuments or war. Occasionally, it lies in the trajectory of a single object that becomes larger than life. The Koh-I-Noor is more than a stone. It is a tale, one of beauty, ambition, conquest, and desire—that still refracts light across the centuries.