Delhi Diary Day 3

A full day.

I started with a coffee at the Blue Tokai near Green Park and then made my way to the metro and on to Qutb Minar. It is the site of a 72 meter minaret slash victory tower amongst the ruins of Lal Kot, an old fortified city. It is set back in well kept grounds and there’s plenty more to the complex beyond the tower. I particularly enjoyed the Iron Pillar of Delhi, a very old definitely not a lamppost that is remarkable for not having rusted in 1600 years.

I took a circuitous route to India Gate next. Here Gandhi’s woke mob pulled the statue of George V down in 1947, and until recently the canopy adjacent to the Gate had stood empty, but they have recruited the saluting figure of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, a revolutionary freedom fighter to the plinth.

It’s stark seeing a huge memorial to all the Indians who died fighting for Britain in Europe next to the deposed edifice of the Empire that brung them to war.

This is the only place so far I’ve resorted to a tuktuk to cross the road. I had a hot tip the best Vada Pav in Delhi was in the Maharashtra Sadan Canteen opposite India Gate. This turned out to be a subsidised government office eatery with a chap in fatigues and a gun outside making great play of the fact no foreigners were getting in on his watch. I legged it to the National Gallery of Modern Art.

The gallery is split over 2 buildings, one with no photos allowed which had some interesting stuff in it going back into antiquity with some Sanskrit Terracotta and forward through to some pop art and a Henry Moore. In the other building there was a basement with a temporary exhibition of Feminist work and then an interesting collection that was arranged chronologically from the imposition of Colonialism showing the influence of European art and techniques on Indian artists and vice versa. It was horribly lit which made looking at the work a pain, but it’s good to find a cool and quiet corner of this City to kill an hour or two.

I ate a good meal at Khan Market, as it was a handy stop off on the way to Nizamuddin Dargah, a mausoleum for a 13th century Sufi saint and top Indian Sunni scholar. I was a little light on research but I had read that there was Sufi devotional music on at 18:15 and it was worth a look. The pilgrimage I got swept up in was a lot more of a fervent scene than I was anticipating. It was hot and hectic and busy.

After walking down tight winding corridors I emerged into the central courtyard of a mosque which housed two tombs. I was presented with a tray of flower petals and some lengths of shiny cloth and crammed into a tiny room with a hundred other men working their way clockwise around the tomb crying and praying and kissing the stone pillars and I had a very strong feeling I was the only person there who came because they heard there was a good band on Thursday nights. After the pilgrimage was repeated in a second tiny box with another tomb and more flowers and sheets, the sun was setting and it was time for the call to prayer. I have always liked the musicality of it and it was a special setting to hear it live.

The men and women separated for prayers and I stood off to the side and waited for that to abate and for the music to set up.

I’ve included a little blast here. It wasn’t particularly to my taste either so I did not hang around too long. The noise and incense and intensity of the pilgrimage at the end of a long day wiped me out pretty good. I got lost on the way out and found myself bare foot and baffled down some rancid alley, but I recovered my bearings and further recovered my shoes from a con artist for the low low price of ₹500.

I don’t think I actively enjoyed much of that experience, the atmosphere in the room was an unusual one but I will reflect on it with a wide eyed fondness. It was a notable change of pace from Thursday evenings in Thirsk.

Food

I had some potato chappati with a little chickpeas and salad for 40 rupees from a stall at Qutb Minar Metro station. At Khan Market and indeed the other end of the market I wondered into a restaurant called Green Mantis. I had cold smoked tofu (served under a glass cloche with smoke), and a jackfruit rendang with canai roti and a drink of fresh plums and ginger ale. The rendang was excellent but once again the food that really surprises me with just how good it is here is the bread.

I got Vada Pav delivered to the flat by the FBI when I got home.

Tomorrow I plan a quiet morning in HKV (a theme) then into Old Delhi, the spice market, lunch in Chandi Chowk and on to the Red Fort, and if Allah has not had enough of me yet I might check out Jama Masjid at golden hour. Fingers crossed for a shorter update tomorrow.