Delhi has been several different cities over the centuries. Currently there are at least four Delhis. There is "old" Delhi -- the city of the Muslim invaders and the Mughal Empire, with the Red Fort, the Jama Masjid (mosque) and the tortuous streets of the bazaar section. There is "new" Delhi -- the British city laid out by Lutyens in the first part of the twentieth century when the imperial capital of the British invaders was moved from Calcutta. The wide ceremonial streets and monumental buildings are apparently unchanged -- after Independence the Indian government moved in as the British moved out. Then there is suburban Delhi -- the Delhi of the middle-class, like the gated apartment community where I stayed with Ashok and Nina Jain and their younger son -- square concrete blocks. Finally there is squatter Delhi, where the poor live -- shanty towns. Brick or concrete walls if you're lucky, tarps and cardboard and whatever you can scavenge for roofs. There's a big one between the road and railway just outside Delhi Cantt station, but I passed several others on my way to the suburbs.
What struck me about this is that virtually all the "sights" of Delhi are from the periods of Mughal and British rule. It's been 50 years since Independence, but I saw nothing to match the building program in Shanghai, for instance, or even Beijing. Where are the modern Indian buildings? It appears that the answer is in the concrete apartment blocks in the suburbs. Perhaps I was looking in the wrong places, but Ashok is a tour guide, and he didn't point me to anything else.
Two post-Independence sights I did visit were the Gandhi museum and the memorial at Raj Ghat where he was cremated. Raj Ghat was moving, and also well-kept, a nice change from the neglect I'd seen at other sites. The memorial to the dead of the 1919 massacre at Amritsar, a key event in the Independence Movement, had a nicely mounted flame donated by India Oil, but the original monument, a towering red stone flame, sat in a sea of dusty concrete that should have contained flowers and water. At the Red Fort in Delhi, where Nehru proclaimed Independence, all the buildings and the archaeological museum were closed, and looked like they would stay that way. Humayan's tomb, archaeological forerunner of the Taj Mahal, could be stunning if the water channels and fountains were filled and grass grew -- and it was cleaned up a little. Fortunately, private money (the Agha Khan Foundation) is paying for restoration there, but what of the other sites? The dusty, ill-lit and ill-labeled museums? The museum in Delhi was better than the one in Kolkata, but the high point was a special exhibition mounted by the Bhutanese.
So, I admired Humayan's tomb, the Qutub Minar, the Jama Masjid -- the Mughal monuments. I window-shopped at Connaught Place and down Janpath in the British section. I photographed India Gate -- a memorial to the dead of World War I. But the only modern building of note was the Baha'i or Lotus Temple. Elegantly simple, white petals just opening above a reflecting pool, an oasis of quiet inside -- although the marble pews didn't encourage lingering. But the Baha'i Faith is in origin an Islamic heresy, from Iran, not native to India.
The best part of visiting Delhi, of course, was staying with Nina and Ashok. They have a nice three-bedroomed flat with a verandah, which they share with their younger son, a computer wizz, an Alsatian (German Shepherd) with a leg problem, and their live-in maid, Multi. It seems that middle-class Indians today live much as the British did during the Raj. In addition to Multi, the Jains have a woman who comes in to sweep the floors, a man who waters the plants and washes the car, the man who walks the dog, someone who does laundry... Oh, and the stores deliver -- just pick up the phone.
One evening I went with Nina and Ashok to a party celebrating the play the group had put on for Durga Puja (they were all Bengalis). Drinks and nibbles preceded the video of the play -- I couldn't understand the words, but the body language was eloquent. Dinner followed. I can now usually tear the Indian breads one-handed (you're not really supposed to touch food with the left hand), but I'm still not used to seeing women draped in elegant saris with gravy-stained fingers. I was interested, late in the evening, to hear expressions of anti-Muslim feelings -- associated, surprisingly to me, with the issue of multiple wives. The most vocal of the group, an environmental engineer (who had no good ideas for cleaning up the Ganges) thought that in a secular state everyone should be limited to one wife, no matter their religion. Ashok pointed out that Hindus as well as Muslims took advantage of the current law, to no avail. I also wondered about his facts -- I thought the Koran allowed four wives, not three, provided they were all treated equally. Either way, it seems to me that changing the law would be a measure specifically directed against Muslims.
Delhi is big -- it took me an hour by auto-rickshaw to reach the suburbs from central Delhi. It is busy -- the traffic is nearly as bad as Kolkata, although the streets are wider. It is expensive -- partly because it is big, requiring auto-rickshaws, and no doubt partly because it's the capital. Although I enjoyed the Sufi music at Nizam-ud-din's shrine, the stunning tower at Qutub Minar, the peace of Humayan's tomb, found a black-and-white skirt on Janpath and drank wonderful coffee at the United Coffee House on Connaught Place, I can understand why someone starting a tour of India in Delhi might decide to go home instead. To me it was a capital city that didn't feel like a capital -- despite the gracious embassy section. Perhaps 50 years is too short a time. Perhaps it has yet to develop an Indian heart.
I left for the next point on the tourists' Golden Triangle -- Rajasthan.
Sent from Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India Nov. 13, about Delhi, India, Nov. 1 - 5
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