Saturday, February 16, 2013

Old Delhi

We spent a day in Old Delhi visiting the 17th century Red Fort commissioned by Shah Jehan when he decided in 1638 to move the Indian capital from Agra to Delhi.  He's the one who had the Taj Mahal built as a memorial to his beloved Mumtaz.  We later visited the old mosque, Jama Masjid, and took a rickshaw into Chandni Chowk.  

There is a stall and a seller for everything in India.  These are some of the vendors outside the Red Fort:
Pineapple

Cucumber

Mixed fruit
Popcorn


Inside the Red Fort constructed with red sandstone
Moti Masjid (Pearl Mosque) inside the fort


Detail of Diwan-i Khas, where the Emperor received private guests



External fort walls
Other visitors to the Red Fort:








 






We jumped on a rickshaw and visited the Jama Masjid.  More merchants outside the entrance:


Potatoes
Steamed tomatoes

View of Chandni Chowk from the Jama Masjid

Lunch on the steps of the Jama Masjid
3 requirements to enter: pay entrance fee, remove shoes and non-Mulsims must wear the most hideous cover-up seen on the planet for respect. Alla wearing such hideous cover-up below.  I am admittedly too vain to be photographed in such a frock.




Below is what Alla was snapping, that I also had to shoot:











The faithful linger, pray, nap and spend their time in this historic mosque built from 1650 to 1656 which can hold up to 25,000 people in the central courtyard.









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THIS is why they hate us.  These are Americans - Christians saying their prayers in the oldest and biggest Islamic place of worship in India during Eid Al-Fitr.  What happens to a Muslim who drops a prayer rug in the direction of Mecca at a Baptist church south of the Mason-Dixon line and says their prayers?  Beyond outrageous.

Observing the Americans across the courtyard

The mosque clears for the call to prayer
All the tourists are asked to leave before the muezzin announces the afternoon call to prayer.  We get back on the rickshaw and observe the choreographed chaos of Chandni Chok while our rickshaw driver masterfully avoids collision.







Fire code considerations?  That tangle of wires prevail throughout.




And my battery dies.  I miss the shot of the outdoor barber, literally shaving men in the street.  Rickshaw whizzing by too quickly and too tired of pointing a device at people so I just take it all in and wonder how this morass of humanity live on top of each other like this....and have done so for the last several centuries.





City of Djinns





Delhi.  The Phoenix City.  Considered one of the oldest cities in the world, continuously inhabited since 3500BC.  I started reading this book prior to arriving in Delhi and found myself glued to it the weekend we went to Neemrana, about 2 hours south of Delhi, sipping tea on a charpoy  in a room overlooking gardens with mughal windows and arches.  I could not be persuaded to sit by the pool or leave for lunch.  

Though it had been burned by invaders time and time again, millennium after millennium, still the city was rebuilt; each time it rose like a phoenix from the fire.  Just as the Hindus believe that a body will be reincarnated over and over again until it becomes perfect, so it seemed Delhi was destined to appear in a new incarnation century after century.  The reason for this....was that the djinns loved Delhi so much they could never bear to see it empty or deserted.

I went to Delhi in early November with a girlfriend who lived there for a year when she worked for the Commonwealth Games held there in 2010.  It was indulgent to be in someone else's capable hands to navigate us through the morass of humanity and numerous eating and shopping choices. Below are some snaps of our week together during the Eid Al-Adha break.

We arrived at 4am and I could smell the smoke as we were descending, a couple thousand feet before landing.  The onset of the colder months means that the poor generate heat with open fires in addition to the cooking fires,  contributing to the haze of pollution that hovers constantly over the city.  By the end of our 8 days, my lungs felt heavy and tired and by the time I returned to the Arab Gulf, I had escaped "Delhi Belly" but come down with a horrid cold.  Getting out to the bucolic countryside and the resort coastlines is the tonic but we did not make time for that.  No, I did not see the Taj.  I lived in NYC 15 years and never went to the Statue of Liberty and have been to Paris a dozen times without managing to get to the Eiffel Tower (arrived as it closed on the first visit in 2004).  I am just not one of those tourists.

Here's our first outing at the Delhi Golf Club, with only 400 members.  It's a marvel of a course in that archeological ruins of Mughal structures and tombs were not disturbed when the course was originally laid in the 1930's.  We had lunch with a prominent member who was formerly the Mayor of the 2010 Commonwealth Games.



We went to Hauz Khas, the next day where we encountered all-day shopping and eating in the midst of an archeological site.


This is the view of the archeological sites from a rooftop Nepalese cafe where we took a break.




My dear friend, Alla, born in Siberia, educated in Kiev, married to a Palestinian, holding an Australian passport, living and working in the Arab Gulf and posing in Delhi with marigolds in advance of the Festival of Lights.
A flower vendor in rush hour traffic.  We bought some roses from here in exchange for the photo.





Don't miss the pooch snoozin' in between fares.

Some of my favorite Sikh taxi drivers.