The Faraway Land of Old Delhi
Trip Start
Nov 14, 2007
1
36
92
Trip End
Apr 20, 2009
Delhi,
India
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
This time we are staying in a hotel that faces the western wall of the Jama Masjid, one of the oldest continuing institutions of Delhi and the biggest Mosque in India. Hence it is with some surprise that beneath our hotel, on the street surrounding this magnificent building, a warren of shops overflows with ball bearings, chunks of blackened steel, suspension springs and car engines in various stages of decay: an institution of wreckage. With my very un-mechanic mind I struggle to put the many parts into a comprehendible context: The springs I get, so too the stack of car horns (which are constantly sampled by the man cleaning them: it must be irresistible), but the ball bearings baffle me and their sublime precision and meticulous stacks are mesmerizing
Jama Masjid Minaret
.The petering out of piles of metal on the roadside is the cue that we have reached the Bazaar - one of the best in Delhi - that Christina and I walk down each night. "Walk down" is a slight misnoma - "Submit to" is more accurate, since it is with certainty that one becomes lost within Old Delhi's laneways. Varanasi's laneways are disorientating but empty; Agra's full but obvious; Old Delhi's are sheer subterranea yet throbbing with people.
This part of Old Delhi, the Jama Masjid being a not-so subtle hint, is almost entirely Muslim. Hence; the food is Muglhai, the women covered in black, the beard's of men are proud and their moustache's mute; and the call to prayer sung over the loudspeakers on the hour give the impression that you are very deep within the geography of Islam, maybe Iran, maybe Saudi Arabia, maybe Palestine, possibly not India. But yet you are. All this can at times be intimidating, but it is a kind of surface that vanishes with confident interraction.
Over a few nights of walking the bazaar we have become acquainted with a Down Syndrome teenager who sits at the front of his family's fabric shop. He tries to catch the attention of the few foreigner's who venture this far down the bazaar with a shout of "Hello!" from across the bazaar. A simple wave, or reciprocating "hello" sends him into victorious fist pumping and dramatic self congratulation: I feel I have seen this before somewhere.
The bazaar has some of the best food we have had in India. We have become addicted to one particular restaurant (Karim's) recognised as the best Muglhai food in India to not come from a 5 star hotel (ie bloody good). The reputation is so good that we have jettisoned our fear of meat (well not completely: Chicken is still off the menu) and we have indulged in some of the best mutton dishes imaginable.
We will stay in Old Delhi for another few nights. There are other things for us to see in Delhi but for now this place is filling a vacuum that the Pahar Ganj had earlier made. The unavoidable daily interraction with the Jama Masjid; visual, physical, even (can't believe I am saying this) spiritual- is something irresistible.
