India, day 5: Gardens
After leaving Ahmedabad, we flew to Delhi, arriving late. We met Vikram, eldest son of Mr and Mrs S., who would “act” as our guide during this first stay in Delhi. After chatting for a bit, we went to bed. We were staying at the apartment of Vivek, the younger son of Mr and Mrs S. and his wife Mitul. 
It’s a beautiful 3rd story apartment overlooking gardens, with lots of light and air. By coincidence, Vivek and Mitul were in the US while we were in India. In fact they stayed in Saali’s apartment in New York City, so it was only fitting that we stayed in theirs. The next morning, I took this picture from their living room. It shows the gardens, and two birds perched on the balcony. The one on the left is a crow, and the one on the right is what’s called in Australia an Indain Mynah. Don’t know what they call it in India, but seeing it made me all nostalgic. These were by far the most common birds we saw in India. Saali and Flo and Vikram had planned a busy day for us, sightseeing and shopping, and the next morning we were to fly to Amritsar.
We met up with Vikram, who turned out to have an endless supply of facts, many of them true, about Indian history and the various monuments and ruins we were to see. Namaste, Vikram. First off he took us to Purana Quila, a vast, partially ruined fort famous in Delhi. 
We saw various old buildings with beautiful carved stone and inlay work. Some, including the one in this picture, were undergoing restoration. When we arrived, we saw some laborers, both male and female, transferring crushed rock up a scaffold.
I watched as one woman piled a load of rock onto her head, and carried it over to the scaffold where it taken up by other workers. We climbed some crumbling stairs cut into the stone to see what was above, and saw these men putting the crushed rock down as pavement. Shortly after we climbed up an annoyed looking man came and ordered us back down. This was not surprising as the stairs, hundreds of years old, looked quite unsafe.
While Vikram showed Flo and myself around Purana Quila and the surrounding gardens, Saali was elsewhere getting a manicure, and our plan was to meet her, do a little shopping, and then go for lunch. It’s worth mentioning here that between the four of us, we had three cars, each with its own driver. This is not normal, but since Vivek and Mitul were away, we had both their drivers available, as well as Vikram’s. So, one of them drove Saali from her manicure appointment to the market, and another took Flo, Vikram, and myself. The third just tagged along in case we needed to split into three groups.
After Purana Quila, we went to see the India Gate, built by the British, and said to be India’s national monument.
I was quite surprised by the India Gate. Specifically, I was surprised at how proud Indians seemed to be of it. Here, students on a field trip congregate at the gate.
I had somehow acquired a fantasy that I would find Indians full of resentment against the British, considering the rough treatment they suffered. In fact though, I never met anyone in India who had negative things to say about the British at all. I used to work with an Indian engineer in the US who was full of bitterness towards the British, and seemed to extend that bitterness towards me, as if being from Australia somehow made me complicit. Perhaps in my mind, I also extended his individual bitterness to the whole country, assuming I would find it everywhere. But it was not so. According to Vikram, who’s well informed about everything, when the British came they replaced one kind of occupation with another, and if nothing else, the British occupation had been preferable to what came before.
From there we drove to Khan Market to meet Saali. It was not exactly flush with parking spots, and having three cars between four adults did nothing to improve this situation. Lots of interesting little shops to explore, but not enough time. We bought a new memory card for Flo’s camera. She was doing much better than I was, and had already filled her memory card. Then we went to a bookshop, where she bought a book, “City of Djinns,” and I bought a CD of Indian “classical” music. It’s hard to know exactly what they mean by this term, but it seems to connote any music that features traditional instruments and musical forms. I particularly like Tabla, and found a CD of Flute & Tabla music. Vikram bought a CD of Rabbi Shergill, of whom more later.
After indulging our shopping, Vikram took us to lunch. This was at the canteen of the Andra Pradesh state house, and was something of an adventure. Inside, it was absolutely crammed with people, and in the lobby was a ‘line’ of people waiting for tables. In India, a line of people waiting for tables means everyone crammed into the smallest possible space, shoulder to shoulder, all talking at once. Think noisy, crowded subway car. Vikram made his way to the front and put our names down, and while we waited, we joined a different queue of folks waiting to wash their hands. We achieved that, and gradually inched our way towards the front of the main line, when our table was called and we were seated.
Then followed furious activity as approximately a zillion waiters descended on our table, cleaning it from the previous occupants and slamming down all manner of little metal dishes with frightening looking contents. This operation was carried out with almost industrial efficiency. The set menu was all you can eat south Indian, and the waiters kept bringing more and more idli and rice and sambar. There was some kind of meat, maybe lamb, that was quite spicy. Everything was delicious, and soon the crowds and noise became less worrisome, and I even began to feel energized by the frenetic activity surrounding us. I had my camera, but I was eating with my fingers and they didn’t feel clean enough to use it. It wasn’t until we arrived in Delhi that I really began to feel my appetite returning, mainly at lunch, and this meal was surprisingly welcome.
From the canteen, we all drove to theLodi Gardens which were simply beautiful, a treasure of which Delhi is rightly proud. 
When we arrived, we noticed a fragrant aroma of wood burning, and could see some smoke in the air, but couldn’t see any fire. This aroma seemed to follow us around, now catching our attention, now fading away. Birds were flying, insects were buzzing, and ducks were quacking.
There were beautiful trees and lawns in abundance, and plenty of people enjoying them, having picnics, or just lying in the sun. The peace and tranquility in the gardens belies the tumultuous history of conquest and occupation that characterizes India’s past.
We walked quietly among the buildings for some time, the aroma of burning wood wafting in and out of our awareness. My favorite structure was the Sheesh Gumbad, which apparently means ‘Glass Dome’, so called because glazed tiles were used in it’s construction. 
This material seems to resist weathering better than others, and the beauty of the original structure is still evident.
It’s said to be the tomb of an unknown family, built during the reign of Sikander Lodi, second ruler of the Lodi Dynasty. Before coming to India, Flo and I had watched Michael Wood’s documentary The Story of India in order to have at least a sketch of India’s history in our minds. On our travels, we did hear names and places from the series mentioned, especially Ahmed Khan, after whom Ahmedabad is named, and Akbar. But I have a bad head for history, and in general I just remember a jumble of titles and locations.
The picture above was taken from near the Bara Gumbad, or ‘Big Dome’, which with its attached mosque was built in 1494. This helps me locate it temporally by remembering 1492 as the year of Columbus.
It’s sobering to realize that at that time, when “civilization” was still 300 years in the future for North America, it was already ancient in India.
But for Vikram, such matters are of little import. Here he’s trying to convey to Flo the size of a fish he claims to have almost caught once upon a time. Earlier, we had come to a circular stone structure set in the ground. It looked as though it were a fountain, or decorative pool, but there was no plumbing visible. Vikram explained that it was a sun well, or a time well, and that it would indicate the time by the position of the shadow cast by its rim. I liked this story, and stood on the edge of the structure trying to determine how it worked.
It was a little puzzling, because it was divided into 16 equal sectors which is a strange number for a clock. And on a sundial, the divisions are not equal, because shadows cast by the sun do not progress at a constant rate throughout the day. As I say, I liked this story. It was certainly a more interesting explanation of the circular structure than the true one, which is that it was a place for washing the feet. I’m indebted to Vikram for quickly recognizing this prosaic reality and substituting a more entertaining story for his guests.
At length we began to make our way out of the gardens as the sun set. The smell of burning wood grew stronger, and suddenly we saw its source. A tall thin man was walking nearby, and his head was on fire. Or at least so it seemed. On his head, he carried a metal contraption from which the smoke emanated. He was calling out something as he walked, but we couldn’t quite understand it. From time to time, he was stopped by a passer by. He carefully took the contraption from his head and set it on the ground. He opened it up, and there was fire inside. He unpacked some other paraphernalia and proceeded to cook up a snack for the passer by, who paid him and walked on. The snack-wallah then packed everything up again, put the brazier back on his head, and continued on his way, leaving a trail of wood smoke in his wake. I have no idea what it was that he was selling, but I just loved the idea of it. It seemed mad to walk around with a container of burning coals on one’s head, yet it was a madness whose lack I regretted in my normal surroundings.
After the Lodi Gardens, we stopped to shop for resais, which are a kind of light weight cotton quilt popular in India. For whatever reason, they are not common in the US, yet they are immensely practical, especially for warmer parts of the country.
For a large bed, you use two so each sleeper can adjust their own covering without disturbing the other. We’ve had a pair for some time that Saali bought for us on a previous trip to India, but we wanted to get another set, and Saali and Vikram also wanted to buy some.
They tend to be printed in bold colors as you can see in this picture, which shows only a fraction of what was on sale at the store we visited. Flo and I immediately became paralysed trying to choose, and it began to feel that we would be there for hours. I liked mostly the blue ones whereas Flo preferred warmer colors. I was also anxious about how we were going to get them home, and it was clear we would need another suitcase for the return journey. But eventually we chose, and left the store with our bundles. We parted with Vikram at this point and went back to the apartment for dinner, and to pack our bags again, this time for the flight to Amritsar at the crack of dawn the following day.