Delhiwale: Jantar Mantar plus

With Jantar Mantar no longer a protest site, attention turns to Ramlila Maidan, a historic Delhi ground rich in memories and public gatherings.

One evening, citizens dressed purposefully in black gather at Central Delhi’s Jantar Mantar. They light candles to protest the Supreme Court decision to reverse a High Court judgment decriminalising same-sex relations. Indeed, here at Jantar Mantar, right next to the centuries-old solar observatory, queer Delhiwale have repeatedly found space among flags and hunger strikes, celebrating and protesting decisions that directly shape their lives.

Every year at this time, the maidan hosts both Ramlila and a mela at night. This Tuesday afternoon, a Ferris wheel rises behind red cloth enclosures. (HT Photo)

That was 2013. Following the Delhi Police decision this week to de-notify Jantar Mantar as a protest site and designate three spaces elsewhere, attention turns to the closest. It is Ramlila Maidan, a place this dispatch has visited before, and now obviously calls for an urgent return.

In the beginning, there was no Ramlila Maidan. There used to be Shahji ka Talaab and Shahji ka Baagh. After crushing the 1857 uprising, the British filled the lake, where the Kamla Market clock tower now stands, and destroyed the garden. Over time, the annual Ramlila, once held on the banks of the Jumna river, moved to the garden’s site. And so Ramlila Maidan was born.

The ground with a capacity of 50,000 people lies between the Walled City and New Delhi. Its signature landmark is a white pavilion reached by a sweep of steps. No longer a stage for formal functions, the pavilion hosts men whiling away evenings over cigarettes and mobile phones. Prime Minister Nehru had commissioned it for Queen Elizabeth II’s 1961 visit.

The Persians no longer come. The buffaloes have moved elsewhere in the city with their milkmen (Okhla!). And the cricket players go to the jumna-paar grounds for their Sunday matches. But every year at this time, the maidan hosts both Ramlila and a mela at night. This Tuesday afternoon, a Ferris wheel rises behind red cloth enclosures, see photo.

On an earlier Ramlila night, actors at Ramlila Maidan waited backstage for their turn to face the audience. The man playing Raja Dashrath was sitting on a plastic chair, crown in place. In everyday life, he said he was a mobile company’s area sales manager. While King Janak sitting beside him was a contractor, Marichh an operator in Kanpur Metro, and Narad Muni a hip-hop choreographer.

Some weeks ago, a barefoot man lay on the grass in a corner of the ground, his head resting on his palm. He said he had neither a home nor a job. The man’s back was turned towards the Civic Centre’s grey tower, which rises across the road, dwarfing every other structure nearby.