Through the Streets of Delhi

After a thorough night’s sleep---all of four hours---we sprang to life at 6 am. Well, actually we were both far too excited to even sleep; however, the bed in our beautiful hotel was so comfortable it was nearly impossible to leave (tired or not). Somehow, though, we did manage to tear ourselves away from that heavenly mattress and make it to our breakfast buffet upstairs on the rooftop patio.

After our breakfast---I had parathas and jam---we headed downstairs to start our tour of the city.

Now, let’s talk about Delhi.

Delhi is probably not the crown the jewel of India. It is overwhelming, dirty, crowded, sweaty, and endless. Smog coats the air like nylon leggings stuck to sweaty thighs. However, despite this, there are several beautiful, ancient monuments spread throughout the city---echoes of the days of Mughals, empires, and sahibs.  On our first day in India, we decided to explore these parts of the city. We booked a private driver at our hotel, who picked us up at 9:30 am and drove us off into the streets.

Our first stop was Jama Masjid, a mosque towering over the streets of Old Delhi. It is India’s largest mosque and can hold up to 25,000 people. It was Shah Jahan’s final architectural feat, built from 1644 to 1658. It is still in use today.

Upon our arrival here, we had to leave our shoes at the front gate. We were made to wear long robes covering our clothes---we couldn’t figure out if this was because we were foreigners, if they thought we were dressed inappropriately, or if they were just trying to make extra money (the robes cost 100 rupees each). We strolled onto the burning hot red sandstone courtyard and took in the view. White cloth was strung across half of the courtyard, shading prayer mats for visiting Muslims. In the center of the courtyard was a ceremonial pool, encased in marble. The engraving inside of the mosque was beautiful---painstakingly intricate and adorning many of the main walls. A huge chandelier rested above the main prayer room, with a visiting bird sitting atop it. After a few minutes walking around the entire structure, we made our peace and moved on.

Next, we visited the colossal Red Fort in Old Delhi.  It is a remnant of the great Mughal dynasty, constructed by Shah Jahan from 1638 to 1648. However, it was never completed, because Shah Jahan was imprisoned by his son, Aurangzeb, in Agra Fort. Aurangzeb was the last ruler of the Mughal dynasty, as civil war broke apart the empire and sapped power from any consequent rulers.  After India’s First War of Independence in 1857, the British cleared away most of the buildings of Red Fort---leaving only the most magnificent and important buildings.  Since India’s Independence, however, most landmark political speeches are made at Red Fort; every year on Independence Day (August 15), the prime minister addresses the nation from here.

It is a massive construction of red sandstone; intricately carved, with beautiful arches, pathways, and gates. There used to be a moat and a drawbridge surrounding the fort, but this was replaced in 1811 by stone bridges.

We meandered through the great corridors and platforms of Red Fort, thinking of times past and listening for the ancient echoes of Mughal rulers.

Now, to get to Red Fort, our driver left us with a bicycle rickshaw driver, who pulled us up to the gates of the fort, and then afterward strolled us through Chandni Chowk. Chandni Chowk is the main street through Old Delhi. It translates to “moonlight place” and is a chaotic roar of shops, rickshaws, markets, and surging crowds. Apparently, in Shah Jahan’s time, Chandni Chowk was a large canal lined with neem and peepal trees, where the water clearly reflected the moon at night (thus the name).  As we embarked on our adventure, our rickshaw driver proclaimed “welcome to the REAL India” with a large smile. He took us to the spice market first. Immediately upon arrival the scents of thousands of varying spices overwhelmed the senses. Coughing, sneezing, and eyes burning, we walked to the top of the building to look out over the crumbling houses of Old Delhi. Our driver showed us wholesale bags of chili peppers (at least fifty pounds per bag!), turmeric root, cardamom, and specialty Indian peppers. Men and women sat on the ground stringing fragrant yellow and pink flowers together; as we walked pass, one man smiled at me and offered me a single pink flower for my hair. In front of our rickshaw, I noticed a well-dressed man who stopped briefly to pray---his hands folded in front of his forehead—and then hurry on his way. Next, we rode through the incredibly narrow streets of sari vendors, steel vendors, and wedding vendors. Colors, sequins, flowers, and all sorts of other adornments covered the store fronts and streets. As we strolled through the narrow corridors, we had do dodge vegetable and fruit vendors making their rounds to the shops.  After our excursion, we left our overpriced rickshaw driver and returned to our car.

We then left the frenzied blur of Old Delhi and drove into New Delhi, where our first stop was Gandhi Smriti. This is a memorial for Mahatma Gandhi, located at the place where he was fatally shot on January 30, 1948. A black marble slab covered in flowers sits in the center of an open corridor, with a flame forever burning in honor of Gandhi.  We left our shoes at the front entrance and strolled onto the marble pathways. The ground was burning. Despite the narrow grass-like mats they had placed along the paths, it was all we could do to keep walking. After accidentally stepping into water that was pouring across one of the paths, our feet begin to blister with the heat. Despite this, we walked the entirety of the courtyard to gaze upon this memorial. Just as we were leaving, a massive crowd overtook the site. We barely escaped with our shoes.

After this memorial we visited Humayun’s Tomb. It is often called the “little Taj Mahal” because of its similar construction—in fact, it was a precursor to the Taj Mahal’s majestic glory. It was built by Haji Begum, the senior wife of the second Mughal emperor, Humayun.  As Begum was Persian-born, many of the styles of the tomb come from Persian influence. It is made of white marble and red sandstone, with beautiful arches, domed rooftops, and long outdoor corridors marked by running water. Tombs sit atop the main structure, encased in marble for eternity.  As we walked through the main entrance we stopped at an urban planning exhibition that was open to our right. This exhibition detailed new initiatives to fully restore the tomb site and coordinate it with existing roads in New Delhi. Importantly, they incorporated sustainable development into the project plans. It was quite interesting.

At this point, our lack of sleep, the suffocating heat, and not eating were beginning to wear on us. My stomach turned and knotted as we wound our way through the majestic site.  After our return to the car we begged the driver to take us to lunch. However, the communication barrier led us to the Bahai Temple, where we couldn’t take it any longer.  Luckily, near the temple was Delhi Haat—a cooperative artisan market that also houses an air conditioned restaurant. After talking with our driver, he brought us here for a break. We made it to the restaurant, barely standing, and collapsed into velvet-covered straight-back chairs. Unfortunately, our churning stomachs and heat-sick bodies did not really crave anything on the menu. We tried a “Russian Salad,” which ended up being overcooked green beans, carrots, and pineapple in a sweet yogurt sauce. We simply couldn’t handle this at the moment. We moved on to a “Green Salad” which was far more appetizing---slices of raw carrots, cucumbers, radishes and tomatoes. However, my poor body just could not withstand. After leaving the restaurant to peruse the market, I knew I was going to be sick. As refined as possible, I asked for the nearest bathroom and tried not to run to get to it. After spending several minutes removing the meager lunch from my body, I felt better. Now, to shop! We bought two absolutely beautiful handcrafted saris—mine a shimmering, purple decorated with golden peacocks, and Cindy’s an aquamarine blue that matched her eyes. We were informed that local families made all of the materials available and that Delhi Haat was in fact a true co-op ran by the artists themselves. The vendors took our measurements and promised to have our tailored saris brought to our hotel later that evening. We sealed the purchase over chai and went to pay. Again, the queasiness hit me.

Let’s take an aside here. When I was younger, I used to work 70 to 80 hours a week and go to school full time. My three jobs ran from 1:30 pm to 6:00 am. I slept in my car between classes. I did homework in between work and school.  I could push my body beyond its limits and never consider the consequences. I have always been a workaholic and I have never seen my physical body as a limiting factor in my choices. However, the past couple of years I have noticed that my body is not okay with this. When I get exhausted, I either sleep or spend several hours sick (literally—fevers, vomiting, etc). When I get hungry, I pass out. In addition, the wear and tear I’ve put myself through has led to several serious issues—stomach ulcers and perforations, bone problems, etc. My body simply will not allow me to do as I wish any longer. And this is still something I’m getting used to. My first day in Delhi was a stark reminder of this lesson: I have limits. I am not, as I had so long believed, superhuman.

We still had four more sites to visit. However, we hadn’t slept and had already been on the go for seven hours. It was simply too much. We had to surrender and return to the hotel, where I ran to the shower, expelled the rest of my lunch, and finally fell to sleep in that heavenly bed. I slept into the night, waking up around 8:00 pm.

We decided to go down to the train to see about getting tickets to Dehra Dun. However, the Tourist Bureau was closed and the fellow at the enquiry counter told us to come back tomorrow morning at 4 am—2 hours before the train left—and purchase same-day tickets. So, back through the streets of Delhi. We walked toward our hotel, but couldn’t find the exact road. However, we did find a dark bar with blue lighting and an inviting atmosphere. Here we stopped and shared two large beers---I ordered the “Elephant Extra Strong”---an IPA that checked in at 8%. We were the only women in the bar, but the staff was friendly. On a large screen television near the door, a Cricket game was underway. We ate Manchurian vegetables (cabbage and carrots shredded and rolled into balls, then sautéed in a spicy Chinese sauce and topped with garlic) and talked under the cool air conditioning.

After some time, we left and caught an autorickshaw back to our hotel, which ended up being only one street over. We arrived home around midnight, and made it to bed at 2 am---which gave us precisely one hour to sleep. (We have GOT to get better about this sleep thing!)

Tomorrow we will figure out how to get to Dehra Dun,

 

Until then,

 

Namaste!