23 November 2008.
So you have one fair skinned, white haired (where it’s not bald) man standing in a crowded subway car about 8:00 p.m. in Central Delhi, along with about 200 dark skinned, black haired men and women. I wonder if you’re noticed. Hmm. That about sums up the end of my first full day in Delhi. After 16 hours on the plane from Chicago, I met the driver and arrived at the hotel, at 11:45 on the 22d, to learn that my room had been double-booked, so down the alley (yes, alley) to the “nicer hotel” for the night. As things worked out, all is fine, as I had been advised to be flexible, and by 10:00 a.m. today, I was in a room at the first hotel, ready to venture out into the overwhelming world of Delhi.
Humility, or hubris perhaps, is the word for the day. I asked for a map to venture out on my own, only later to realize how absurd such a proposition is. Delhi is indeed trying to become New Delhi, but much of its metro is undeveloped, and its buses and smaller bus system, always overcrowded and slow, is very difficult to manage. So after some hotel help, I had a driver and a car for the day, all for under $20. In the end, I realize, this was a blessing.
Delhi is overwhelming. The smells stifle, the horns attack, the beggars cling, the crowds keep coming. And yet, it is endearing: the father playing a cell phone game with his daughter in the corner of the subway, the pilgrims crowding the newest temple, the police sharing a pleasant word of direction, the children playing pick-up games of Crickett (yes, Crickett) in vacant lots. I see why this land is attractive.
My day began with a drive to Old Delhi, the heart of the city, which begins with the famed gate (1). Then it was on to the Jama Masjid, (2) the largest mosque in India, built in the 1600s. Over 25,000 can pray in its courtyard, and it offers stunning views of the area. I was struck by the one man I found praying in the midst of the crowds. Around the mosque area in the heart of Old Delhi, the crowds were stifling. This was the loudest, busiest, and most crowded and disorganized bazaar I had ever seen. But the sense of energy and determination was encouraging; everyone trying to sell. I bought 2 bananas and 2 unpeeled oranges. A very good lunch.
Next was the famed Red Fort, a massive complex build in the 1600s. I am sorry to say that I was not touched here, although the history and sheer space is astounding.
Then to Raj Ghat, (4)the memorial and cremation site of Mahatma Gandhi. After the busy ness and noise and smells of Old Delhi, this peaceful park was wonderful. Gandhi is clearly revered here, and this site was a testimony to that.
Then, for the final offical tour, it was on to Akshardham Temple, (5) the largest Hindu complex in India. This site, where cameras are not allowed, is part religion, part massive enterprise, part kitsch, and it gives me the feeling that I’m in Oral Roberts (or something like that) Christian heaven – it’s got a kind of evangelical mega church marketing feel, with all the right temple images and donation stations, the gift shop, the education center, etc. It’s a massive continuing project that says “we love everyone, Hinduism, or something like Bahia, or whatever, is good; let’s all smile, isn’t this pretty, we are only trying to rebuild everything that ever was Hinduisms into one place for all to come to” kind of feel. My driver even said that its principle purpose was as a tourist attraction. The whole project clearly speaks to the power of Hindu devotional life, indeed, and yet it is not what really is bhakiti or puja.. It is impressive, as are the throngs who go there.
But I found the final two stops of the day more impressive, or puzzling. First, there was the Lakshmi Narayan Temple, (6) dedicated to the goddess of wealth, and to Narayan, her preserver. The temple was large, and I found the images impressive (no photos allowed), but what I’m touched by is the way people come, buy flowers, and offer them to the various images in the temples as they say a prayer.
Finally, there was the really unique Hanuman Temple, (7)the god who is pictured as part man and part monkey; he was a hero in the famous Ramayana tale. In this temple in central Delhi, he stands in front as a huge guard and host; I was reminded, you’ll forgive, of the old Texas State Fair cowboy statue, which frankly is a dwarf to this Hanuman.
After a late dinner and metro ride, I found one final temple, where a guru was chanting and yet allowed a photo.
One gets the sense, after so short a time, that there are all the trappings of culture here. People are overwhelmed, tired, and yet busy and alive, alive with family and jobs and conversation, and in many cases sheer survival. And yet, there are the prayer calls, the church bells, the university towers ringing, the daily shouts of religion and ritual, along with the ceaseless prayers – really, pray-ers—and chanters and scrIpture readers, all calling forth a kind of subtle, consistent song to God, however he/she is understood, or not. It is a dizzinging world indeed.
And this is only day one. Or is it two?
