Welcome to Delhi!
After more than an hour stuck in traffic with non stop honking and some near collisions, I arrived safely at my hotel in Karol Barg. I had to stop myself from laughing in the taxi, thinking, "THIS is what I have been missing for the last three years?" Welcome to India!
The following day I decided to venture out into Delhi. Interestingly enough, I followed the same footsteps from five years ago when I decided to explore India for the first time. I took the metro from Karol Barg to Rajiv Chowk. I changed lines, got off at Chandni Chowk and stepped out of the station into... mayhem. Complete and utter mayhem. Cars and taxis honking, people everywhere and skinny dogs running around right and left. While trying to find my way to the Red Fort, children and mothers with babies are asking for money and pointing to their mouths, men are urinating on the side of the road and I am trying not to get run over by the same taxis, auto rickshaws and bicycle rickshaws that are soliciting me to take a ride from them. Everywhere I have people asking me to look into their shop and buy something. This is it: I have arrived to a place where I will always feel a little bit alien, and even though this is my third trip to India, it is still overwhelming.
I decided to visit the bird hospital at the Jain temple first. My good friend Liora often calls me a Jain as I love animals and won't hurt an insect. And, it's true: I have a great affinity for the Jains. When you enter the hospital, there is a sign greeting you that says 'Birds are our friends.' People bring hurt and sick birds that they have found and the inside is filled with small and large cages with pigeons, doves, peacocks, owls, love birds and even a white rat with a hurt eye. The birds are tended to by having their wings bandaged and are given vitamins so that they can heal. Some birds were not looking so well but others looked like they were on the mend. This is not a place to come to if you are worried about keeping your feet clean but donations are welcome.
I then took a quick spin around Old Delhi and visited a pet shop (stall). The men let me hold and pet some of the baby rabbits but looked very disappointed when I didn't buy them. I should have known better than to go and look but I couldn't resist. Rabbits in my hand luggage, could you imagine!?
Afterwards, I made my way to the Red Fort to take a few photos of the exterior. Delhi has a fascinating past as it was once the Mughal capital and the seventh city founded by Shah Jahan. There have been at least eight cities that have been founded on the site of what we know as New Delhi. In fact, it was once a place of great culture which has unfortunately deteriorated since the Partition. Interested in knowing more? Read: William Dalrymple's City of Djinns.
Exhausted, I called it a day. And, just like five years ago, the following day I did not leave my hotel room for a very long time.
I decided to counterbalance the day before by visiting a more peaceful part of Delhi. The Lodi Gardens contain crumbling mosques and tombs that still have a glimmer of royal purple or cobalt blue tiles which hint at the glorious past of Delhi. Couples wander around chatting, holding hands, cuddling and kissing. Chubby dogs are taken for a walk while skinny ones catch a snooze in the corner of the tombs. The gardens were lush, quiet and peaceful as the dragonflies began to come out.
I caught an auto rickshaw to the Hazrat Nazam-ud-din Dargah shrine to hear the sufis sing qawwali. After taking off my sandals and covering my head with my scarf, I made my way inside and through a labarinth of dark, little corridors. Unable to find the sufis, I stopped a young man who was holding a hand full of roses. It turned out that he also had no idea where they were so we decided to find them together and struck up a conversation. Rupert is from Australia and now living in New York. He had been traveling around India for a month and was about to catch his plane home in a few hours.
Qawwali is devotional music by the sufis. When we finally found them, there was already a crowd of people as the had already begun to sing. People were watching, taking photos or visiting the shrines and praying. Men came around and vigorously fanned everyone while ladies with their babies came up to me and smiled. The music was lively and and upbeat.
Rupert and I joined up with Laura, from Latvia, and we all went for a chai afterwards to trade travel stories. It was a nice day!
After more than an hour stuck in traffic with non stop honking and some near collisions, I arrived safely at my hotel in Karol Barg. I had to stop myself from laughing in the taxi, thinking, "THIS is what I have been missing for the last three years?" Welcome to India!
The following day I decided to venture out into Delhi. Interestingly enough, I followed the same footsteps from five years ago when I decided to explore India for the first time. I took the metro from Karol Barg to Rajiv Chowk. I changed lines, got off at Chandni Chowk and stepped out of the station into... mayhem. Complete and utter mayhem. Cars and taxis honking, people everywhere and skinny dogs running around right and left. While trying to find my way to the Red Fort, children and mothers with babies are asking for money and pointing to their mouths, men are urinating on the side of the road and I am trying not to get run over by the same taxis, auto rickshaws and bicycle rickshaws that are soliciting me to take a ride from them. Everywhere I have people asking me to look into their shop and buy something. This is it: I have arrived to a place where I will always feel a little bit alien, and even though this is my third trip to India, it is still overwhelming.
I decided to visit the bird hospital at the Jain temple first. My good friend Liora often calls me a Jain as I love animals and won't hurt an insect. And, it's true: I have a great affinity for the Jains. When you enter the hospital, there is a sign greeting you that says 'Birds are our friends.' People bring hurt and sick birds that they have found and the inside is filled with small and large cages with pigeons, doves, peacocks, owls, love birds and even a white rat with a hurt eye. The birds are tended to by having their wings bandaged and are given vitamins so that they can heal. Some birds were not looking so well but others looked like they were on the mend. This is not a place to come to if you are worried about keeping your feet clean but donations are welcome.
I then took a quick spin around Old Delhi and visited a pet shop (stall). The men let me hold and pet some of the baby rabbits but looked very disappointed when I didn't buy them. I should have known better than to go and look but I couldn't resist. Rabbits in my hand luggage, could you imagine!?
Afterwards, I made my way to the Red Fort to take a few photos of the exterior. Delhi has a fascinating past as it was once the Mughal capital and the seventh city founded by Shah Jahan. There have been at least eight cities that have been founded on the site of what we know as New Delhi. In fact, it was once a place of great culture which has unfortunately deteriorated since the Partition. Interested in knowing more? Read: William Dalrymple's City of Djinns.
Exhausted, I called it a day. And, just like five years ago, the following day I did not leave my hotel room for a very long time.
I decided to counterbalance the day before by visiting a more peaceful part of Delhi. The Lodi Gardens contain crumbling mosques and tombs that still have a glimmer of royal purple or cobalt blue tiles which hint at the glorious past of Delhi. Couples wander around chatting, holding hands, cuddling and kissing. Chubby dogs are taken for a walk while skinny ones catch a snooze in the corner of the tombs. The gardens were lush, quiet and peaceful as the dragonflies began to come out.
As dusk began to fall, I headed for the gate, followed by my new chum (photo below).
I caught an auto rickshaw to the Hazrat Nazam-ud-din Dargah shrine to hear the sufis sing qawwali. After taking off my sandals and covering my head with my scarf, I made my way inside and through a labarinth of dark, little corridors. Unable to find the sufis, I stopped a young man who was holding a hand full of roses. It turned out that he also had no idea where they were so we decided to find them together and struck up a conversation. Rupert is from Australia and now living in New York. He had been traveling around India for a month and was about to catch his plane home in a few hours.
Qawwali is devotional music by the sufis. When we finally found them, there was already a crowd of people as the had already begun to sing. People were watching, taking photos or visiting the shrines and praying. Men came around and vigorously fanned everyone while ladies with their babies came up to me and smiled. The music was lively and and upbeat.
Rupert and I joined up with Laura, from Latvia, and we all went for a chai afterwards to trade travel stories. It was a nice day!
