Delhi (Eleanor)

I am trying to decide how to describe Delhi. It is so big, so diverse, and in two days I had so many different feelings towards the place. It began in the airport. The airport was an airport (imagine that). I know this sounds redundant, but there was nothing especially exciting about Delhi’s airport. I did have a nice conversation with the young man sitting next to me on the flight, but other than that, there’s nothing really to say. So my first real Delhi experience was getting lost in the taxi, at around midnight, trying to find our hotel. We actually passed by it three times (possibly 4) and I suspected which was our hotel from the address the first time, and was pretty sure by the second. But I didn’t say anything the first time because I figured the driver knew what he was doing and the second time, the driver didn’t know what Mom and I were talking about. There was no big neon sign, or even a small unlit sign, because we were staying for two nights in someone’s apartment which they rented out. All we knew was "1 link road" and there was no street address posted. Ah well, we got there eventually, although we had to wake up the owner to get directions in Hindi.
The following morning, we had a lovely breakfast, on the house, before taking off. We’d expected to not have much to do because the Red Fort and other major monuments close on Mondays, but in the end our day was pretty full. We began with the Purana Qila (old fort). This fort was built by Sher Shah, the Afgani conqueror who defeated Emperor Humayan and briefly interrupted the Mughal reign. Humayan returned from Iran after Sher Shah’s death, but it took him a further 10 years to recapture Delhi. I find it rather ironic that, after converting a tower of Purana Qila into a library, he fell down the stairs there and acquired the injuries that killed him. It seems to me that Sher Shah had the last laugh on that occasion.
Humayan was the second Mughal emperor and he sometimes seems to get a bit lost. His father, Babur, founded the Mughal Empire and his son, Akbar, is undisputedly the greatest Mughal Emperor. It seemed fitting that, after visiting the place that killed him, we should visit Humayan’s tomb. It is an impressive sight. To call it a "tomb" is an understatement; in reality it is a walled garden enclosing several buildings, one of which is the tomb of Humayan. It was designed by Haji Begum, Humayan’s Persian wife, and show’s the beginning of an architectural form that would be refined over the years to reach that perfection of design (in my humble opinion) known as Mughal.
After the tomb, we wanted to visit a shrine to the sufi saint Nizam-ud-din Chishti. This proved to be somewhat difficult. The Lonely Planet said that the shrine was "just across the street" from Humayan’s tomb. This is a vast understatement. We found a bicycle rickshaw to save our feet because we were a bit tired and told the man where to go; but he didn’t understand English and he couldn’t read a map. So he called over some pedestrian in a business suit, to whom we explained where we wanted to go and pointed on the map. After a somewhat lengthy conversation, we were off…to the wrong place. We ended up in Nizamudin West neighborhood, where we asked for directions again. We were told that the place we were looking for was in fact in the Nizamudin East. Once again, we were off, crossing big, overcrowded streets on our tiny rickshaw and turning down alleyways. In fact, the whole thing turned out to be quite grand. It took us about an hour to find the entrance to the shrine, which was hidden away in some unlikely corner (I couldn’t find it again) but we had a fantastic tour of the Islamic quarter of Delhi – women hidden away behind shimmering veils or imposing burkhas, men in prayer caps, restaurants and street vendors, tiny carpet shops; I could watch everyone bustling around this lively neighborhood filled with everything that one could need for day to day living, without having to bustle myself. I almost bought a prayer cap from a young boy with a tiny stand just to have a memento of the whole experience.
We finally arrived at the shrine, much to our rickshaw driver’s relief. But our adventure was not quite over. We slipped our shoes off and walked to the door and into a maze. We, of course, took the wrong turn. I think if we’d taken the alley to our immediate right we would have walked right in. But we went straight, up a flight of stairs, through a dirty, dusty, trash-covered street in bare feet. A boy looked at our bewildered expression and led us a little way then pointed down a side street and disappeared. This was, to him, the point from which no one could get lost. But we did. Another group of children helped us and we finally made it.
It is quite a popular shrine. Although the original shrine was built by Chishti himself in the 1300s, there have been a number of reconstructions. The result is bright, 19th-century decorations on an old-style building. I can’t say whether I liked it or not, or even whether it was worth the hassle of finding it. In a sense, the hassle is what made the place dear to my heart – the joy of finally succeeding, the relief of walking into a courtyard surrounding a building covered in gold leaf and bright, synthetic paint and dozens of people praying. What would it mean to me if the journey had not made the destination worth finding, simply as an end to the journey? I don’t know.
After our adventures in the Islamic Quarter, we hired an auto-rickshaw to take us to the Qutb Minar, a victory tower erected by Afghan conquerors to celebrate the defeat of the last Hindu king in Delhi. Work on it began in 1193 and today, although there is a slight tilt and you are not allowed to climb to the top, it seems to have weathered the centuries (and Delhi’s modern pollution problems) quite well. The 5 story tower is nearly 73m high and tapers from a 15m (diameter) base to a 2.5m tip. It is an impressive sight to behold and the carvings are alternately intricate and plain, giving it a beautiful, uncrowned, but still impressive feel.
In the Qutb Minar Complex, we also saw the Quwwat-ul-Islam Masjid (the power of Islam Mosque.) Not exactly politically correct by today’s standards, but that was not something the Afghan conquerors were aiming for. Ironically, the mosque was built on the foundations of a destroyed temple complex and therefore many elements of construction still show their Hindu or Jain origins.
Before leaving, we had a quick peek at the 7m iron pillar in the mosque courtyard. It is older than the mosque itself and was raised in memory Gupta Emperor Chandragupta II outside a Vishnu Temple. The incredible thing about this pillar is the purity of the iron; after 2000 years, the iron has not rusted and the Sanskrit inscription is still as clear as day. Scientists speculate as to how it could have been cast using "the technology of the time" but I say it is incredible how often scientists underestimate ancient technology. Apparently, the Great Pyramids could be reconstructed with the same degree of precision today, but only using advanced laser technology and at great expense. Why is it that Modern Man thinks himself to be so exceptional?