By Mohd. Salman
It is difficult to be bored in Delhi. The city’s array of amusements for the curious mind are so vast that there are new surprises to be found at every turn, no matter how long you may have stayed here. The Old City, however possesses the distinction of being able to serve up something new every time you go. You step out of the wide roads of the national capital into a bustling, crowded, narrow-laned town that is modern and medieval all at once.
How you enjoy Purani Dilli depends on how you approach it. I have found that the best way is often to dispense with the ‘essentials’ first. Tick the Jama Masjid, the Red Fort, Gurudwara Sisganj, the Jain temple, Ballimaran, and all the main centres of pilgrimage off your list. You are then free to do some ‘real’ exploration.
After you’ve done that, pick a random time on a random day, and just walk in, off the main streets, into one of the bylanes {while maintaining a rough sense of direction}, and try to find your way out at the opposite end of wherever you are. I had my most recent impulse a few weeks ago, on a Sunday morning that was okay at about six, but progressed to become terribly hot.
So the motorcycle was safely put away at the Jama Masjid, some shots taken inside the grand mosque before one of the rascally staffers demanded that a ticket be bought for the camera {!}, after which the walk began in earnest.
After you exit the mosque from the north gate {the one on the right}, walking straight brings you to the entrance of Dariba Kalan, the jeweller’s lane. Walk in and you will see jewelry, trophies and other curios on display in stores big and small, punctuated with little teashops with kettles of the fragrant elixir perpetually hissing and steaming.
Somewhere around the middle comes the entrance to Kinari Bazar, important for an old Hindu College graduate like me, since this was where the good old college started off in 1899. It is also the lane of costumers and of lots of bright, spangled fabricky stuff that a lot of people find so very interesting. Walking along it for some distance brings you to the other end, which opens in Ballimaran, the street of cobblers, opticians, Mirza Ghalib and some really great food.
…En route to which, yours truly lost his way. Guided by half-aware feet on previous walks, where I’d invariably end up in Ballimaran, I seemed to have overlooked a little fork in the costumers’ lane, and naturally, the only one would take me where I wanted to go. And I took the wrong turn.
Not all too bad an occurrence, as it turned out. I found myself in a lane called Mali Wara. And being a Sunday, the residents were not yet astir, affording me an undisturbed, quiet walk and lots and lots of pastel-coloured housefronts to shoot at. The few people awake were ruining the good their morning walk/jog did for them by swallowing sabzi-kachori at a seemingly popular joint.
And then there was a teashop. ‘One of the very fruitiest’, as Bertie Wooster would say, an old-fashioned little niche resplendent with little china pots, cups and saucers, as well as the legendary Indian tea-glass. It’s one of those places where the leaves and the cove at the stove are sent from Eden, to produce a cuppa that clears the mind, brightens the gaze and opens the heart to the beauty of God’s creation. That the shop was not spacious must not cloud our judgement, nor should the tacky banner on the shop-front. For the cup, when it did come, was brilliant. Brilliant enough for me to ignore that the morning was a scorcher.
With the pit stop done, the walk continued. Many twists and turns brought me to the Nai Sarak, and out into Chandni Chowk opposite the Town Hall.
When you find yourself in Chandni Chowk on a hot day, with the sun trying to suck vitality out of the top of your head {like in the Glucon-D ad}, the best way to see yourself through the ordeal is to make a beeline for the Fatehpuri Masjid end, where on your left you shall see the Amritsari Lassi Wala. Again, one of those little places that draw people in like moths to a flame. With over half a dozen variations {I recommend the Malai Lassi}, this place is ideal for a summer recharge. Don’t wait for a winter food walk to get your hands on the lassi here, for when the market for chilled beverages drops, the proprietor sells children’s sweaters from inside the lassi fridge.
Right after you’ve had your lassi, move towards Lal Kuan- the lane famous for its metalworkers as well as its kite-makers. With August 15 here and a healthy love of kite-flying in the area, there are dozens of variations to be found. Kites of all shapes and sizes are available, many of them influenced by the popular films of the day. So there are Ra.One kites, Agent Vinod kites, Sheila ki Jawani kites and even a Paresh Rawal kite.
A few moments of peace were also snatched at the Fatehpuri Masjid, by the hauz, looking at the fish swimming lazily while scholars and maulanas went about their chores and their studies. There is a school attached to the mosque building, which is where my father spent a couple of his early years studying. It is always nice to sit at a spot and try and wonder if he used to sit here, nearly half a century ago, and if he did, how did all of this look at the time?
Once done taking pictures, though, the body says, my friend, you’ve walked a good five kilometers, and it’s another three to where the bike is parked. And the weather doesn’t seem to be getting any cooler. Ghar chalo yaar. Bas bhi karo.
Good, sound advice, that. And it’s promptly followed. I’m going back when the weather gets better, especially to sample ‘chalu chai’ as advertised by a shopowner who seemed to have taken the weekend off.
