I’ve heard India described as “everything coming at you at once.” This is pretty close to the truth. The chaos has its own rhythm and creates this meditative background noise that I’m sure I will miss when I’m home in the quiet. Again, I become part of this ridiculously enchanting synchronised chaos.
The city of Delhi, simultaneously gritty, foreboding, noisy, hectic, crowded, ancient and in renewal has this heartbeat that is musical and pulsating with an energy unlike anything I’ve felt. It is compelling and intriguing and happy and heartbreaking. The smiles belie the poverty and the grit. The warm hearts soften the warnings I’ve heeded (and not needed). This is not the romantic city of Udaipur, but from the moment I acclimated to the pace and atmosphere here in India (I’m not sure whether that was 5 minutes or 3 days after I arrived), I’ve felt this magnetic attraction to the underlying energies that make this place just work.
Today I visited Humayun’s Tomb, which is a fantastic oasis in middle of this great whirlwind. Humayun was the second Mughal emperor, and the tomb was built in the 16th century by his senior wife. I dare not sidetrack on the contradictions inherent in this faith nor on the role of women in their society. At the time (Hindu or Muslim), the foremost role of the king’s wife was to bear a son. Multiple wives/concubines I guess simply increased the odds. Humayun’s senior wife was Persian, and with her heritage brought Persian style to Delhi. To me it seemed a hybrid of Hindu and Muslim architecture, the ornate marble/sandstone tomb (that looks like a red-and-white pre-Taj Mahal) and distinctly Mughal gardens.
With scores of eagles and migratory Mongolian cranes circling above, I wandered the restored monuments in awe. The birds in this city are a marvel… if one pauses momentarily and looks up (also down, as the stonework is truly impressive in many places), one notices the scores of parakeets, eagles, hoopoes (this fascinating Asian woodpecker-looking thing), starlings and even pigeons by the thousands and tens of thousands – in the sky, trees and perched on the buildings.
Back in Humayun’s place, Isa Khan’s tomb is an intricately-carved, grand and well-preserved/restored example of what I learned is Lodi architecture. It is a strong yet feminine building, with precious detail along the top. A grand walled garden makes this part of the complex its own mini fortress and for me really stole the show at this site. A side-highlight for me here was a litter of perhaps 2-week old puppies that I stopped to take as many photos of as I did the tomb.
After consulting Lonely Planet, the next stop was Hauz Khas village, an artsy shopping district beside a 13th-century reservoir with wonderfully-intact (and semi-restored) tombs, domed buildings and an old school. The gardens and structures were teeming with Indian students – all seemingly late teens or college-aged, hand-in-hand or giggling and chattering and selfie-ing in small groups of friends. The chatter and the laughter pervades the archways, steep staircases and 600 year-old facades. I think I have become enamored with the medieval architecture here.
My driver and I press on to the site that truly takes my breath away. We brave the traffic and fly (and alternately crawl) past the dozens of temples and parks and attractions that one could understandably miss if they only saw Delhi on a foggy cold day in December. The Laxmi Narayan Temple looks outlandish at first, with a “kiddie temple” off the car park, and its bright terra cotta and yellow exterior.
I did not do my homework, nor was I prepared for this temple. As I removed my shoes and walked into the entry parlour, I felt the energy of this place. I think people must feel this way when they enter their favorite church. It was a breath of fresh air and felt like coming home. I was the only Caucasian there. After wandering the exterior, I braved to step inside and see the puja stations. There were pujas for Lakshmi (Laxmi) in different poses, with other deities as necessary. I felt pulled to one of the pujas and watched for a few minutes as the guru there had offerings blessed (coconut, flowers, sweets, and a cloth – I’m not sure what it all represents, but I was mesmerized with the ritual of it). We began chatting and he blessed me, gave me a wreath of flowers and a dot on my 3rd eye, then returned with some sweets as prasad (as are the flowers, sweets are offered to the deity, blessed, and distributed to worshippers to share in the offering). I felt chills. Afterwards, as I wandered through the rest of the temple, I came across a room with excerpts from the Bhagavad Gita engraved in Sanskrit on the walls. The Lakshmi puja at the end of this room had the other deities (Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha) sitting at her feet… it was nothing less than a magical experience. I reveled in the sunshine as I exited the temple, with Indians in sarees and kurtas bestowing upon me confounded looks, stares and half-smiles.
The last stop of the day was for fun. There is a 108-foot Hanuman statue and temple sitting beside a busy traffic roundabout by the Jhanderwalan metro station. To me, this is a great example of this culture not taking itself too seriously…the symphonic cacophany of traffic noise and trains and tuk tuk horns and stuff wallahs is epic and also perfect in its absurdity underneath this troublemaking god’s purvue.
I learned today that the gods each have their day…. Like the Norse gods for whom some of our days of the week are named, India has puja days for each important deity. Sunday is Surya, the sun god. Monday is Shiva and/or Brahma depending on who you ask (surprising to hear it’s not also Chandra’s day). Tuesday is Hanuman and/or Ganesha’s day. Wednesday is Vithal: Mercury (there is a loose connection between Odin [Woden], for whom the Norse named the day, and Mercury). Thursday is Vishnu and/or Ganesha again, also depending on who you ask. Friday is Durga, the Goddess, and Saturday is Shani and general astrology (Shani means Saturn, which is also the name of the day in other mythology, including Norse!).