Health and Happiness: July 2013

Our second-to-last day in India!

We started our day at the hole-in-wall Roshan Chiragh-e-Delhi dargah, which is the tomb of the Sufi saint Nasiruddin Chiragh Dehlavi. My paternal grandfather was an admirer of this saint, so it was very meaningful for my mother to come here. There was no way we would have found this place if our driver didn't drop us off in the alleyway leading to it, and if a kind stranger didn't help us navigate the maze of alleys.

"The Illuminated Lamp of Delhi"

The peaceful courtyard

Offerings to the saint

We then had our driver take us to the Indira Gandhi Museum, which we pleasantly discovered does not charge an entrance fee. I really enjoyed the memorial museum - it was the actual home of Mrs. Gandhi and one gets a privileged peek into a more personal aspect of her life. There are also beautiful arrangements of photographs and newspaper articles, as well as many personal items that held much meaning to the famous leader. I felt that this museum did justice in honoring her memory and what she stood for her; this much can be gleaned even from someone who hardly knew anything about her, other than being an Indian Prime Minister. We took our time observing the artifacts and walking through the building, and it was a very pleasant way to spend our morning!

Arrangements such as this adorn the walls

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of the truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary
desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

These crystal "river" symbolizes the last steps Gandhi took before she was murdered by her bodyguard.

Old Delhi was next on the list, and I was excited to visit the Jama Masjid, which is the biggest mosque in all of India. Our driver dropped us off near the masjid, and we trekked through a congested but lively bazaar to make it in. Unfortunately we just missed Friday prayer; I was really looking forward to praying in the mosque, but it wasn't meant to be. Since shoes aren't allowed inside, just like with any mosque or dargah, we left them outside with a man who was overseeing them. I should say, for anyone planning a visit to the mosque, beware of the hawks and tourist traps! One man saw my camera and told me that there is a 350 INR charge for taking pictures inside of the mosque - that sounded preposterous to me! I tucked the camera back inside my purse, only to promptly take it out as soon as I got it. Also, on our way out we gave the shoe-keeper a typical tip; however, he wasn't very pleased with this amount and demanded we give more. I believe he asked for 100 INR for each pair of shoes, which is about $2. Honestly, give it if you want but it is way more than what the going rate is! I ended up giving him 200 INR instead of the 300 that he wanted. Does that sound stingy? Well, after 2 weeks in India you start to realize how much things are actually worth and when you are being ripped off. I was incensed since I knew he was running a scam, and I was sick of being viewed as a bank since I was American (for the record, I am most definitely not a rich American with so much money to spend! I saved up a long time for this trip!)

Do you see the madness?!

The amazing Jama Masjid

Friday prayer mats being rolled up

I don't like taking candids but... what are they wearing??!!

Feeding the birds

The view of the Red Fort from the masjid

Even though Laal Qila (the Red Fort) was just a relatively short walk away, I couldn't summon up the energy to do it - it was midday and the sun was start to scorch! On top of that, I did not eat much during the day, out of my fear of having to suddenly go to the bathroom where there are no bathrooms to be found (you will never understand this fear until you are in that situation!) Therefore, the fort had to be sacrificed, as well as a couple of other major attractions that I didn't care to see anymore out of sheer exhaustion, such as the Lotus Temple and Akshardam Temple. I was honestly surprised at how low my energy level got, but we had a couple more dargahs that my mom and aunt were anxious to visit and I realized that I was not the energizer bunny anymore.

Driving through Old Delhi

Navigating through the bazaars

I bought some dried fruit.. and it was delicious!

We found our driver after walking through the markets back to the car and headed to the dargah of Baba Matka Pir, fondly known as Koza Baba to Afghans. In both Urdu and Farsi, the Sufi saint is nicknamed after earthen pots. Legend has it that after hearing of the saint's healing powers, a sultan decided to test him by sending him a platter of iron balls and mud. The saint, after praying, took off the cover of the platter and the aforementioned items had turned into edible items including jaggery; he mixed them with water, producing sweet milk in the earth pot.

I cannot emphasize enough how much in love I fell with this place. From the first second of leaving the car and taking a look around, my heart felt peace, contentment and joy. There is an irrepressible serenity and calm that accompanies the dargah; I felt a mystical and awe-inspiring aura just envelop me whole and take me away. I also felt overwhelmed by the peaceful presence of nature. I prayed my heart out at the tomb, and the caretaker of the dargah also did a prayer for me and gave me a large piece of jaggery as a token.

Earthen pots are everywhere!

Steps leading up to the tomb

To me, this is beautiful

Tomb entrance; a devotee is praying

Offerings to the saint

I made an ardent, secret wish... I can still tell which string is mine

When a devotee's wish is granted, they come back and offer an earthen pot.

We eventually had to leave this wonderful sanctuary and, along with our driver, we made a mad jaywalking/running dash across an extremely busy road to get to the last stop of the day: the most humble dargah, Bagh-e-Bedil. Bedil Saab, whose name translates to "the broken-hearted," was a great and renowned Sufi poet, especially in Afghanistan. I was stunned at the tomb's simplicity; there weren't any caretakers, any devotees, any vendors selling flowers and incense. It was bare and ascetic, yet, of all the dargahs, it felt most true to the principles of Sufism.