Our guesthouse is situated right at the edge of the the historic Nizamuddin Basti, a 14th century neighborhood that is bursting with life. However, this neighborhood also looks rundown, which makes me wonder exactly what the socioeconomic condition of this area is.
 |
| I thought I looked Indian but no one was fooled. |
 |
| A narrow and tight alley next to our guesthouse. This basti is full of alleys like this; it feels like a maze! |
 |
| Walking towards the dargah and taking in the views. |
 |
| A historic baoli (step-well) right by the entrance to the dargah. |
The dargah (or ziyarat) of the Sufi saint Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya was breathtaking. Every corner held something holy and fascinating and I could have spent hours just soaking it all in. There really is a special vibe to this place The colors pop out, the art and style both familiar and new at the same time. It feels simply exquisite to be in an Islamic holy site, praying with other Muslims and hearing the azaan. I felt at peace.
 |
| The saint's tomb is over 700 years old. |
 |
| Beautiful details all over. |
 |
| "The wilayat (domain) of gnosis and faith can suffer decay. The wilayat of compassion can not." (Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya) |
The peace did not last very long, unfortunately.
I can't believe how quickly my mind desensitized itself to the plight of the homeless and begging children, mothers, elderly and disabled. In retrospect, I think I was so shocked that my brain decided to shut down instead of having to deal with reality. I just didn't know what to do when one beggar suddenly multiplied into ten and they wouldn't leave me alone as they pulled at my clothes and demanded money: I guess that's what happens when you hand out 100 rupee bills in the dargah. I felt this intense claustrophobia as well as denial - "Is this really happening right now? Are there literally beggars everywhere? Am I seriously getting mobbed by women, men and children?" I had no idea how to make sense of all of this.
Even now, I can't stop reflecting on it: it's just too much, and too disturbing. I tried to blank my mind but I felt, and still feel, horrified inside - I don't even know how to react to all of this. There was a young girl with her blind brother begging for money, and my heart was shattered yet paralyzed with fear of the crowds. The crowd of beggars dispersed once Hajji Saab (our host and one of the shrine's caretakers) started to yell at them to back away, which they did immediately. Walking out of the dargah (which feels like a maze) I was still too taken aback and stunned to even pay attention to where I was going.
After re-orienting myself and suppressing the insanity of getting mobbed by beggars, we made plans to move on with our day. This is the part where I realized that riding in an autorickshaw is truly a death-defying experience. I can't even describe Delhi traffic: it surpasses the craziest driving you have ever seen in your life. There were cars, trucks, bicycles, bicycle rickshaws, autorickshaws, motorbikes all cutting each other off with a cacophony of honking. Honking is actually a way of life, as is sharing one lane with multiple vehicles. My mother, aunt and I were literally in fear throughout the whole ride.
Shopping in Lajpat Nagar was both interesting and claustrophobia inducing. It was a Saturday and there were people jostling around on every corner with lots of shopkeepers calling out from all sides, trying to get our business. There was so much to look at that shopping wasn't even really much on my mind (although that didn't stop me from buying bangles and earrings, all overpriced. I just didn't have the heart to bargain.)
 |
| The Central Market in Lajpat Nagar. |
 |
| So many bangles to choose from! |
Of course we encountered more beggars. No amount of research, or guidebooks or indiamike, can ever prepare a person for the sheer number of beggars everywhere. Even with a shalwar kameez they all know that I'm a foreigner. Women walk around with babies; women recite the Quran with pleas; women in supplication, always with a hand out. I noticed that a lot of the beggars I encountered were young or middle-aged women. It got to the point that I didn't know if I should feel horrified, brokenhearted, or simply annoyed. Probably all three.
I had a day that was both enjoyable and disturbing, and my nerves felt frayed. I wanted to experience "the real world" and I got more than I bargained for.
No comments:
Post a Comment