Delhi from a distance

Delhi strikes me as a complexity that makes the West look flat and one-dimensional by comparison, writes Annie Datta.

Distance and Delhi make an uncanny relationship. Delhi may be crowded, polluted and chaotic but distance transforms instantly this heritage city into charming sepia-tinted pictures from a virtual book that one recalls with growing nostalgia.

Recall Chandni Chowk that was once the biggest commercial centre of the East. Its kuchas (street with a dead-end), galis (alley) or katras (enclosed market) are like a living museum where heritage resides behind feverish economic activity. Most of the places take a suffix or a prefix according to the particular trade they specialise in. Be it Katra Neel or Kinari Bazaar.

Streets could also be named after a person or a landmark. Chandni Chowk is living heritage with its havelis and British buildings. Goldsmiths and craftsmen are involved in intricate workmanship in silver and gold forging jewellery and craft that has an integral link to age-old customs and lifestyle. Same could be said of food and eateries. Specialities for which Paranthewali Gali and Fatehpuri are famous force one to visit these places even if on a short trip. The vicarious pleasure of things remembered is no less powerful.

Such is the magic of the walled city that one literally walks in and out of history. You may have gone past Mirza Ghalib's house without even knowing that one had brushed past a great monument where poetry itself resided once. Mirza Ghalib, the great nineteenth century poet, had shifted to the haveli in Ballimaran in 1860 and lived there till his death. The poet was obsessively in love with the city.

Delhi must have tempted distant conquerors like the Turkish warlord Mohammed Ghauri and the Persian Nadir Shah (who was responsible for the city's decline) with its reported wealth, richness and charm. Invasions made Delhi a city with layers upon layers of heritage. History may have been vandalised or lost as legislation towards protection and restoration of historical buildings and sites has been slow in coming since India gained independence. Places like Qudsia Bagh that figure in the literature of the Raj period are in a shambles today. Despite the neglect, Delhi is amazingly alive and rich in cultural heritage going back in time to the Pandavas who had built their capital Indraprastha followed by the Mongols, Turks, Persians, Afghans and the Mughals. The British were the last to have impacted the city.

The University of Delhi has its own variegated history. The room that houses the Registrar's office was the very same room where Mountbatten had proposed to Edwina (later Lady Mountbatten) in 1922. A few years ago we had the opportunity of meeting the then Registrar of the Delhi University who had shown us the restoration work in progress at that time. One was thrilled to see the underground ballroom dance hall emerge strangely intact. One was told that some important freedom fighters had been incarcerated in one of the basement rooms there. The Vice Chancellor's office was once the vice-regal lodge with the surrounding green cover (the ridge) and its wild life making it an ideal hunting ground.

Whether it is Shahjahanabad or Lutyen's New Delhi or the just restored Humayun's Tomb and its surrounding gardens (thanks mainly to the intervention of the Aga Khan Foundation) or forts and buildings further south towards Mehrauli, Delhi has history marked on every stone. When studied critically the stones lose their materiality and yield an inner secret. Large number of monuments are scattered all over Delhi. About 1300 building or sites stand identified as heritage stuff. Delhi is thus privileged with a rich cultural resource.

Heritage perceived in smells, colours, sounds and tastes. Unfortunately it is a non-renewable resource and conservation depends on the attitude of the present generation. One wonders if Delhi has its value only in the eyes of tourists and eager immigrants looking forward to a holiday back home. While residing in Delhi one had taken the city for granted. From distant Portugal, however, Delhi strikes me as a complexity that makes the West look flat and one-dimensional by comparison.