Monday 2 December 2013

A tale of two Delhis

Jason Miller called the feeling of otherness in a foreign culture being 'superimposed' - like you've been cut out of one environment and pasted into a different one. I have definitely been superimposed on Delhi. If Mumbai was more chilled than expected, Delhi is India turned up to 11. It is noisier, dirtier, and more aggressive; and yet perhaps more grand, ancient, and open to being warts and all - I guess you have to take the bad with the good.

I have experienced persistent touts around my hotel and the tourist areas. They will claim anything - they're an English student wanting practice; it is not safe to walk so you have to take their tour; they can take you to the 'official' tourist office (where you'll pay too much and they will get commission) - it's all bullshit and I politely decline their advances.

On the plus side, I've seen people offering seats to those more in need on the metro; I've been approached by a few people being genuinely friendly and helpful, pointing out directions or train platforms; and met a lovely pair of Indian tourists visiting Delhi at Qutub Minar mosque.

This contrast of dark and light appears common in Delhi, or perhaps it is more evident here than elsewhere. An example is Chandni Chowk - a long, wide, thoroughfare in the heart of old Delhi. It is abustle with hawkers, taxis, rickshaws and tuk-tuks. Litter grimes the gutters. A man carries so many tin pots he can barely see where he's going. Cows pull carts loaded up to three times their height. Stray dogs jostle with raggedy birds for scraps of food. Steam rises from the sizzlings of street-wallahs. Amidst all this are fantastic ancient monuments: the red fort; the town hall; Hindu, Sikh and Islamic temples. There is an all-pervasive lulling of rhythmic drumming and chanting from the Sikh temple that becomes a constant hum and draws me in. I also come across a park just off the main street where I can sit un-molested whilst people meditate or stretch the night out of their bones. Serenity is worth more when surrounded by chaos.

In the afternoon I visit New Delhi and then Qutub Minar mosque. New Delhi i full of British pomp, a pall mall of Indo-European architecture and showiness, with long, straight roads for parading. Qutub Minar is part of one of the earliest incarnations of an Indian capital in the 11th century, and is a beautiful complex of Islamic architecture. All in all, a successful day!











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