It is getting hot! My nose is turning that fetching shade of tomato.
Nizamuddin, an area surrounding the shrine of revered Shaykh Nizam-ud-din, and apparently great for spicy goat kebabs, was too chaotic for me in the heat of the day on Tuesday so I ducked into the calm and perfect Delhi antidote, the Lodi gardens. Beautifully maintained, cool and shady I could sit, unharrassed, in between the crumbling tombs of Sayyid and Lodi rulers (1433-1526). Everything was once again tranquil and right with the world.
Yesterday morning, as is my custom now, I got lost in the labyrinth of Connaught Place, wandering round and round, cursing the streets for all looking the same. Once again I was impressed with how polite and helpful people are here, an old man came over and bartered with an auto for me, another young guy escorted me to a book shop (and then went away!) and people are always keen to point out information centres, and warn me off scammers. I think perhaps it is mainly curiosity. I am a constant figure of interest, children nudge each other as I pass, girls in there late teens smile shyly and ask to have their photo taken with me - consequently there might be photos of a very confused Katie adorning people's mantel pieces - and men approach me firing relentless questions. I was surprised, Delhi ought to be accustomed to the sight of 'Britishers' by now, but I still turn heads.
In the afternoon I went to see the Red Fort the crumbling momento to the Swan Song of the Mughal rule, built by Shah Jehan over 10 years completing in 1648. It was demonstrative of the absolute and overwhelming power that the Mughal rule had represented. That the power was beginning to slip only fueled the determination to exaggerate it, therefore, the court of Shah Jehan, for all its corruption, was one of the most elaborate and mannered of Mughal rule. As Dalrymple puts it:
"[The Red Fort is} part of a great Imperial Mughal ego trip."
What remains now, however, is rather apologetic in comparison. Although the beautiful marble buildings of Diwan-i-khas (hall of private audience), the royal baths and Shah Jehan's private quarters remain, the Fort is a shadow of itself.
The fountains and waterways run dry, the luxurious pleasure gardens have been firmly replaced by regimented British lawns, on the north side of the Fort are erected hideous grey British army barracks and where the great Peacock Throne once sat is now a roosting spot for pigeons. The palace of Shah Jehan's favorite daughter Jahanara is now a half hearted museum. The overall impression is that of emptiness. Any mystique was stamped out by the stiff-lipped colonialists belonging to Her Majesty.
Hey ho.
On a more frivolous note, we had another party last night...
I am constantly struck by how interesting and clever my fellow travellers and the interns are I meet here. Dutch, Belgiums, Germans, New Zealanders, all of whom have such a passion for India. I have been made to feel very guilty for only staying for 3 weeks and have a list as long as my arm of places that I must visit on my return, which was intention I guess.
Talking to these people I feel as if my eyes are opened again, as if I've just woken up. A perfect preface to my own explorations...