Delhi diary (Sep 2007) - 8

Inside Red Fort, we were approached by tourist guides a couple of times, and we declined. When this happened a third time, I said ‘ok…how much?’ , and this guide replies “Only hundred rupees sir”. I liked the ‘only’ part. Who did he think we were? German tourists? So we exchanged some Indian songs. We came to some satisfactory agreement and the fellow took us around.

The lawns inside the Red Fort were well maintained. “There were no lawns here during Mughal times” said the guide. “All groundwork was in marble. The British took it all out and used it for building Victoria Memorial in Calcutta” he said. 

Set inside the river side rampart of the fort, were a row of buildings, built on a raised platform. A narrow water-canal ran through the middle of this platform, through the buildings. The guide told us that in the early days, Yamuna water, mixed with fragrances was channeled through this canal. It was known as the stream of paradise.

Looking towards the river side, on the left was ‘Diwan-i-khas’ - the chamber of special audience. This had a silver-gold ceiling once upon a time. All that has disappeared along with other stuff plundered from here, the famous peacock throne being one such. The Koh-i-noor, the 105 carat ‘Mountain of Light’ diamond, used to adorn this throne. Now the Kohinoor is a property of the British crown, and is on display at the tower of London.

They weren’t allowing tourists inside Diwan-i-khas, and so we had to be content with peering from the platform. One could see some fine floral carvings, and the place still radiated a powerful aura.

It is in these pavilions that a couplet is inscribed, which says “If there be a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here”.

On the far side of Diwan-i-khas was the Hammam, the chamber of royal baths. Yamuna streams I guess. In front of this was a garden that has two pavilions at either end. A row of many-many fountains (now dry) were set all along the middle. The Guide told us that the pavilions were called “Saavan’ and ‘Bhaadon’ (monsoon clouds), and the fountains would create a nice monsoon for the joy of the nobles.

On the other side of Diwan-i-khas was the Khas-mahal, the special chambers of the King. At the river side of this was a tower, where the King would stand and be seen by commoners who gathered in the grounds below, outside the fort. (I have some childhood memories of seeing acrobats and magicians performing there, on the grounds below. People would see from the ramparts above, and throw coins and currency to the performers below).

Next to the Khas Mahal was the Rang Mahal, which was said to have had gilded ceilings. The ‘stream of paradise’ flowed right through. The guide told us that the King used to see ‘Dance’ performances in one of these rooms, which had hundreds of mirrors on the ceiling…

At the end of this row of pavilions was the Mumtaz Mahal, the ladies palace - now a museum. We strolled through the museum, and saw some artifacts, weapons, dresses etc, of Mughal times. Much more stuff is perhaps in British Museum or in other collections abroad.

Bala: The Indian Army had taken charge of this fort after 1947. But they handed over charge to civil archeology/tourism authorities, a few years ago,

And yes, Bala, they do have the ‘son et lumiere’ (Sound and Light) shows every day in the fort. This is a nice audio-visual programme of about an hour’s duration, done in Hindi and English. I remember seeing this when I was in school. It was a night-show and I remember that it was quite intense and scary. Sudden lights (of different colors) coming up in different parts of the fort, and the story relevant to that part coming up in loud audio from there. Battle sounds, royal parties, dialogs from long gone times.

Dim memories. But one line from those dialogs still remains in my mind….

‘Abhi dilli door hai…”

Delhi diary (Sep 2007) - 7

From India Gate, we drove down the Bahadurshah Zafar Marg, past Darya Gunj, and then came onto the great road on which stands the Red Fort. (Yes, Srinivasa, we have reached….almost…).

Driving past Chandni Chowk, my attention was drawn to the pretty temple that stands right at the entrance of the Chowk, which is actually a charitable hospital for birds.  This is a Digambar Jain temple, said to have been built during the time the first battle of Panipat was fought…Next to that is ‘Gauri Shankar Mandir’, a temple of Lord Siva, which is even older.  

Chandni Chowk would have been a very beautiful sight during the times of Mughals, with an octagonal pool at one end, and a canal of water running down the middle of the whole street, flanked on both sides by rows of trees. The British Johnnies filled up the whole canal and built a 100 plus feet tall clock tower at the place where the pool existed. The clock tower fell a few years after the British rule in India fell.

A bustling bazaar now, the Chowk has seen much history, great sales, and more than a fair share of horror…

We drove past the Chandni Chowk, and u-turned to come to ‘Red Fort’.

What a sight! The magnificent red sandstone ramparts! This wall is said to be a mile and a half in length, and stands at a height ranging between sixty feet on the city side and a hundred plus feet on the river side. The Yamuna river flowed by its side, watered the moats that surrounded the fort walls, and fed the beautiful water channels that ran inside the fort. This was during Mughal times. Now, the river has moved away, and at least in this stretch, it no longer resembles a royal river that it must have been at one time.

There was a long queue waiting to enter the fort. A little basement booth was selling entrance tickets, and we joined the queue.

Mercifully, the entrance opened, and the queue moved swiftly. Security measures necessitate all visitors to be scanned etc….We entered by the main gate, known as ‘Lahori Gate’…We went past the place where the Prime Minister of India hoists the national flag every year during Independence day.

Then we entered the ‘covered marketplace’ known as Chatta-Bazaar, better known as Meena Bazaar. During Mughal times, this marketplace was the preserve of the rich, high and mighty, and sold exclusive stuff that wasn’t even available in the Chandni Chowk nearby. Carpets, velvets, musk, ivory, zaris and such.

Past the bazaar, we came out into the open, and onto the Naqqar Khana, or the House of Drums… This was the place from where the sound of drums announced the presence of the King, and the fort-crier proclaimed “ba-adab,ba-maulahiza, hoshiar…shehenshahon ke shehenshah…” etc…. The Naqqar Khana is the main gate into the palace-proper, and has a musicians gallery from where the drums were played…

Past that, one comes to Diwan-i-am, the courtyard where the Emperor gave audience to lay public. The high pavilion from where the King gave audience looked quite royal and ornate…A pretty picture…

Click-click-click went the tourists…

Delhi diary (Sep 2007) - 6

We took off from Malai Mandir…

“Lal Kila” I told the cab driver, brusquely. Tone was firm. No deviations now, lets go direct to Red Fort…

And the cabbie took us to Rashtrapathi Bhavan.

Before Srinivasa throws a brick, I hasten to say that Shweta, the young lady from Germany, was quite happy to see this imperial house of the President of the Indian Republic.

The weather was pleasant and the view from the Rashtrapathi Bhavan highland, down dale the Raj Path was stunning. Rising out of a misty horizon, one could see the lovely India Gate.

We took some photographs at the Rashtrapathi Bhavan gates.

A couple of persons from a tourist group there asked me “Yourself Tamil Nadu?”

“Aamaa”, I said, taking a stand for the whole state.

“Where? Chennai? Ohoho! I knew, I knew! Myself Coimbatore, my friend Erode!”, said they, and immediately proceeded to treat me like family, handing over their video camera. In a second they became movie directors, gave me detailed directions as to how to shoot them, as they walked here and there. Film them inspecting the Rashtrapathi Bhavan, film them examining the canon…’Please take again” they said, after they had adjusted their hairstyle. I tell you, I suspect that every family in Tamil Nadu has at least one person who is a born movie director…

We then drove down towards India Gate. Shweta wanted some photos taken there too. And so we parked the car, and waited to cross the road and walk to the Amar  Jawan Jyoti (a flame that is kept ever burning, in honor of the unknown Indian soldiers who laid down their lives in war). (India Gate itself was built sometime in 1920s as a memorial to Indian soldiers who died in World War 1 and the Afghan war. Nearly a hundred thousand soldiers are said to have died in these wars. The Amar Jawan Jyoti came later though. It was lit at the India Gate sometime in the early 1970s).

A couple of six and a half feet tall cops attired in ceremonial finery were standing at the edge of the road-stretch that leads to India Gate. And they wouldn’t let us pass. I asked them why. They told me that some VIPs were expected anytime now, and no one was allowed near the cenotaph and the flame. I countered saying that I was a VIP too. ‘I am a citizen of India. And this is India Gate’ I said. They smiled, saw the merit of my argument, and allowed us to go near the cenotaph and take pictures - ‘Make it quick please’ said they. Jai Jawan!

We then walked across to the other monument nearby. The beautiful Chattri or Canopy that once housed the marble statue of the British Monarch, King George the Fifth. I remember the statue well. It was big, some fifty feet tall. The local authorities removed it a couple of decades ago, and moved it to some other place. The canopy remains though. There was a  plan to dismantle that too and install a statue of Mahatma Gandhi there. But that has run into some litigation. Many people want a Gandhi statue there. But they don’t want the statue to be below the canopy - as the canopy has British connotations. So they want to remove the canopy. The canopy, however is a ‘monument of historical importance’ (I guess the statue of King George V was not), and so there is a section of people who oppose its removal. The matter is in the courts. Meanwhile, the canopy stands empty and pretty. A stately perch for pigeons…

Lovely place, New Delhi.

I told Shweta about Sir Edwin Lutyens, the great Architect, who designed most of New Delhi, including the Rashtrapathi Bhawan, India Gate, and the beautiful canopy that now stands empty….

‘Any relation to Mary Lutyens, the author of J Krishnamurti books?” asked Anu, my sister.

“Her father” I said.

Oh the connections of Karma! What an odd-lot! Edward/Mary/Jiddu!

I remember attending Jiddu Krishnamurti’s lectures at the ‘Constitution House’, not far away from here…About that, some other time…

Time now to leave New Delhi, and go to Old…

Now, to Lal Kila for sure…

Delhi diary (Sep 07) - 5

Well, the plan was to go to Red Fort. But if things go as per plan, then one is not in India. There is such charm in facing the unexpected, welcoming the unannounced…Power cut, water taps drying up, Bandh, cooking gas cylinder becoming empty a week ahead of schedule, car not starting, sudden guests - there are any number of possibilities that creates a daily tussle of fate and free will. Wonderful!

7 am, Sunday morning. My cell sang.

“Sirji…” called an old school classmate of mine…

Cell phones have connected India like nothing has ever done before. Just dial and talk, without worrying about the variable “where”…

As it was, I thought he was in Bangalore or Mumbai, and he thought I was in Chennai or Bangalore…

His name, btw, is Shankar. He works in Bangalore, and his wife and kids are in Delhi.

“Sirji…today is my birthday sirji…sochaa aapsey aashirvaad ley loon” he said.

“Where are you sirji?” I asked.

And it turned out that he was in Delhi. So was I. 

He planned to wake up his kids and come to Uttara Swami Malai temple sometime in the morning. So perhaps we could meet there.

Shankar’s call was unanticipated. Not as per plan. Plan for the day had been to go for an outing with Shweta and my sister Anu. Shweta is a NRI youngster who is from Germany, on visit to India, heading for a three month internship to Banares…She wanted to visit the Red Fort. And so I had volunteered to be the guide and host.

We left at around 9 in the morning. First stop, Uttara Swami Malai temple - also known by Northerners as Malaai Mandir. Needless to say the word ‘malai’ means different in Tamil and Hindi. Malai is the Tamil word for Hill, and Malaai is the Hindi word for whipped-cream…Malai Mandir is a South Indian temple, of Lord Murukan, built on top of a small hill.

We walked into the temple compound. At the bottom of the hill there is a temple of Goddess Meenakshi and Lord Sundareshwara (Siva) - as in Madurai. The day being Sunday, there was a brisk throng of devotees.

But right there, in that shrine, I spotted Shankar…We bear hugged in true Delhi style…His wife was with him…”Where are the kids?” I asked him. He told me that they hadn’t woken up. So there.  

After a short tête-à-tête he took leave.

And we climbed the steps. Halfway up the hill is the first stop - a nice large hall. A group of devotees were learning to sing Tiruppugazh - the most beautiful verses of Arunagirinathar. An elderly teacher sang first, followed by the students.

“Look” said Shweta, her eyes shining. Right amidst the students, a peacock was sitting peacefully, listening to the Tiruppugazh!

We then went to the niche shrine where is housed a rare sphatika (crystal) statue of Adi Shankara. Beautiful!

Then we went to the hill top. To the temple of Murukan. Lots of devotees. And on one side, a Veda class was on. A teacher was leading a group of young Brahmacharis through the chant of Vedas. In Ghanam style…(Ghanam is a special way of reciting the Vedas. Here, the words of a verse are chanted back and forth, repeated, in a certain mathematical sequence…This is one of the ways by which our Rshis have ensured that no word, no syllable of any verse is lost. A good overview about methods of Vedic chanting can be seen here http://www.kamakoti.org/hindudharma/part5/chap10.htm …)

They were chanting the Mrityunjaya mantra (tryambakam yajamahe…) in ghanam style…It was delightful to hear.

With that sound resonating in ones mind, we walked down the steps…Back to the car…

Yes, to Red Fort now…

Delhi diary (Sep 07) - 4

Purana-Qila - a.k.a Old Fort…A place of great archeological importance. Believed to be a part of the Indraprastha area, where ruled the Pandavas, once upon a time. And then later, much later, the Mughal Shahjehan and the lion - Sher Shah…Now in ruins…It is right next to the “house of birds” - chidiya garh - a.k.a the Delhi Zoo…

A princely sum of Rs 2/- was the entry fee to the fort, and another Rs 2/- for the museum inside the fort. Had this been anywhere else in the ‘developed world’ they would have charged something in the range of USD 40 each, I guess.

Ravi bought two bottles of cold mineral water…Why two, I asked…He was clear that he wanted labor to be equally distributed….And so we lugged one each as we walked in through the majestic portal of the fort….It was a huge double storeyed arch-gate, built of red sandstone…High up on the gateway wall, there were delicately carved flower reliefs set in the middle of a shatkona (hexagram) design. This design was seen in other monuments inside as well…

On the right, as soon as one enters the Qila complex, is the museum. The museum housed a fascinating assortment of history. The Purana Qila, as we see it now, was built during the times of Humayun and Sher Shah Suri in 16^th century AD. But ASI excavations have thrown up a whole lot of stuff much older. Pottery dating to maybe 1000 BC have been unearthed. It was absorbing to see a few thousand years of history on display… Gupta period coins (4^th - 5^th Century AD)… There were a couple of stone tablets, of 11^th or 12^th century, with long inscriptions in Sanskrit. Very readable. I asked the officials there whether they had a translation of that. The man there told me in Hindi that there was no translation. ‘Stuff is in Sanskrit’, he told me, as if to say - ‘now, who can translate that!’…

From what I could make of it, the tablet contained a list of kings who ruled in the Delhi area from the time of the Tomars (7^th or 8^th century AD) to the time the tablet was inscribed…The word “Hariyana” could be seen clearly…I didn’t know that the name was that old…

btw, I understand that it was one of the Tomar kings who installed the famous ‘Iron Pillar’, that is now seen near Qutb Minar. Web sources say that a Sanskrit inscription on the pillar dates it to 4^th Century AD. This is that famous iron pillar - the one that hasn’t been affected by rust in all these centuries…

The afternoon was very warm when we walked out of the museum. The Qila complex was landscaped well - lots of green… Quite a few couples were ensconced on the Qila lawns and in the thickets, making the best of the timeless ambience and afternoon sun.

We spent some time looking at the few monuments that are inside the fort…

The first monument that we saw was the Qila-i-kuhna masjid, the mosque built by Sher Shah Suri. Nice dome, nice prayer niches…Some marble, lots of red sandstone…I looked for and located a staircase that was tucked away unseen. The view from the second storey is said to be spectacular. But the entrance to the staircase was grill-doored and chain-locked…

Tourist literature talks of an inscription on this monument that says “As long as there are people on this earth, may this edifice be frequented, and people be happy in it.”..

Sher Shah’s wish is running true. Looking around, one could see quite a few people. Happy tourists. Taking photographs…A small kid with special shoes that shrieked “Queek-queek” with every step, was a one man band, striding all over the place.

We then went to the Sher-mandal, an octagonal monument, used by  Humayun as his library. And then one day he tripped down the staircase here, and sustained grievous injuries that led to his death. It is said that the Mughals then abandoned this fort, and later went on to build Lal Qila (Red Fort) as their Delhi bastion.

After resting a while on one of the edge-ledges of the octagon, we made a move, and explored the campus…To the boundary walls, where flowed the Yamuna, all those years ago…Down below, on one side of the boundary wall, we saw a bus terminus of sorts…From another boundary wall, we were overlooking the Delhi zoo…

I had a sudden memory from my school times, of seeing a whole lot of monkeys on the Purana Qila ramparts. Couldn’t see any now. I asked Ravi about it. He told me that the monkeys have moved on to the current seats of power, at North Block and South Block - the great houses of the Indian Government, that stand by the side of the great Indian parliament. (Check out http://www.telegraphindia.com/1041226/asp/nation/story_4175512.asp or http://www.indianexpress.com/res/web/pIe/ie/daily/19990123/02351855.html or  better still, see http://monkeydaynews.blogspot.com/2005/08/delhi-goes-ape-over-monkey-menace.html )

Ravi had a fine story to tell of an enterprising entrepreneur who had a roaring business driving away the monkeys from the Government offices.  That chap brought along a trained Langur which would single out the male-leads of the encroaching monkey tribes and roar at them and scare them away. The tribes would follow their leader. The entrepreneur gets his payment. But the relief would be temporary, as the monkeys would come right back a few days later. Leading to repeat business. A fine business model.

We asked around for  ‘digs’ - excavations - that we saw in the museum pictures. Seems that the places have been taken over by weeds and waters.

“Isn’t this were US Prez George Bush addressed the Indian nation, last year?” I ask Ravi as we sit on the Purana Qila lawns….

(See http://www.whitehouse.gov/infocus/india-pakistan/photoessays/india-visit032006-p2/17.html)

Ravi doesn’t answer. He prefers to softly voice some chants from the Vedas, logging in to the atmosphere that was once Indraprastha…

Next stop…..Gimme Red….Lal Qila….

Delhi diary (Sep 07) - 3

Seems to me that the standards have dropped a bit.

The chou in Bengali market, I mean.

But that is like saying that the South Pole is not as cold as it used to be. Bengali market chou remains a benchmark.

Ravi and I landed up there and managed to find a table - the place was pretty full. And then without further ado, we ordered a Choley-Baturey each. Non-oily baturey, that special-taste-choley, pyaaz (onions) separate, and a dash of panchranga pickles, water, yes pls, mineral water, cold…

The table next to us was occupied by two young-achiever women. IBM laptop kept on the chair alongside. Snatches of conversations showed that the IBMer was from out of town too - from Mumbai…looks as if this Bengali market tuck-shop is a pilgrimage spot for many out of town Delhi folks.

After polishing off the C-B, we ordered a Tikki each. They serve that with a few choice sauces, one green and another red, and some, yes, choley, again. Ravi didn’t want the Tikki’s to come bathed in sauces, and so he told the waiter several times, and louder each time, that he wanted Tikki without the chutneys. I told Ravi to lay off the poor waiter.

Meanwhile, the next-table folks had moved on to their third course…Sweets…A select list of combo-sweets was being tossed about in the choice-conversation…”Come on…think about it…it is a weekend…” said the IBMer, cajoling the Delhi local…And after much silent negotiation, they settled for Kulfi….

Our Tikkis arrived. Fully bathed in chutneys. Ravi looked daggers at the waiter, and then gutters at me. Soon, we were digging into the Tikkis though. And, tell you what, they just weren’t up to the mark. Reheated stuff.

All-in-all, it was a nice Delhi-of-old experience. A gaggle of regular middle-class Delhi-wallahs digging into chaat, gole-gappey, samosas, tikkis, kulchey and such…A nice fat man at the counter (That’s the entry criteria for being certified as a good Halwa shop…The owner must look the part…Shubh Labh!)

Meanwhile, Australia had won the toss, elected to bat, and had already smashed the ball all over park at Chinnaswami stadium, Bangalore. The TV at the tuck-shop was on mute - and no one complained. They just ordered more tuck.

Some nice meetha-paan rounded off our meal.

Stomach full. Palate pampered. Time to go.

Next Stop, Purana Qila….

Delhi diary (Sep 07) - 2

Friday 29^th Sep, saw one spend the whole day at Gurgaon.

Local-insight has it that it is wise to reach Gurgaon before 8:30 am. A minute later would mean getting caught in a car-eat-car traffic jam. Likewise, it is best to leave before 5 pm, or risk adding at least an hour or two to your return journey time. I found this quite surprising because lot of roadwork has been done in the past several years - long-long flyovers have come to be. But as I was to learn that day, local wisdom has it right. That evening, by the time I left office it was past 7 pm. And we got into one huge traffic sludge. It wasn’t exactly a jam - for the traffic was moving. But it was moving as slow as highly viscous metal sludge might - with the result that what took me less than half an hour in the morning, took me nearly two hours at night. Road planners and industrial-estate planners seemed to have worked on different plans…

So much for Friday the 29^th.

Saturday 30^th, saw one doing some temple visiting in the morning. First to Kamakshi Mandir, which is in the general region of RK Puram / JNU. Lovely temple with pristine performance of all puja. The priest beckoned me to come first to the Ganapathi shrine. It was Sankata Hara Caturthi day - sacred for Ganapathi. He waved the Arati, gave me some vibhuti, and then went over to the Adi Sankara shrine. After Darshan there, we went to the sanctum sanctorum - of Devi Kamakshi. Lovely chandana alankara.

From Kamakshi temple, I went across to Ramana Kendra at Lodhi Road Institutional area. The meditation hall was open. After spending some quiet time there, I walked across to the adjacent compound - the Ram Mandir. During my school days, I have witnessed this temple come up from scratch. Temple has grown and prospered since then. And lots of changes. For one, the temple of Rama has shifted to first floor now. The center sanctum in the ground floor houses the idol of Lord Hanuman, carrying the Sanjivani hill. I do remember the time, maybe early seventies, when this idol first came to the temple grounds. I remember the first Navaneeta (butter) Kaapu (decoration) as well, and the vadai-malai.

A nice crowd of devotees had gathered around the navagraha shrine. It was clear the Shani Bhagavan commands his own following. There were lots of North Indians as well, even a few Sikhs.  

The first floor had the main shrine - that of Rama, Sita and Lakshmana. A group of thirty of so devotees were sitting down and chanting ‘Vishnu Sahasranama Stotra’ - the thousand names of Lord Vishnu. Saturdays of this month (Purattaashi) are considered very auspicious for worship of Vishnu, especially Lord Balaji. Next to the main shrine, there was a shrine of Lord Balaji as well.

All in all it was a great Darshan.

When I came down, they had started the Abhisheka of Hanuman. The huge idol of Hanuman was being bathed with water, milk, curds, pancamrutam (cut fruits)…The attending priest and other devotees were chanting Tamil hymns while the abhishekam progressed. It was a beautiful sight.

Around noon, Ravi, a friend of mine called up.

He made an offer I could not refuse.

He asked me out for lunch….To Bengali market…

                                                                                      ….To be contd…

Remembering the Mahatma

The Gandhi Statue at the Chennai Marina seashore looked somewhat different.

Every year, on October 2^nd - Mahatma Gandhi Jayanti - finds this statue at the center of attention. The statue, inaugurated by the then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru in 1959, is erected on a high pedestal, out of reach from terra-firma. Usually, on the Jayanti day, the authorities construct makeshift wooden steps leading to a large wooden platform that is around chest-height of the statue. There is usually a constant stream of people, walking up to pay their respects…The platform would be strewn with flowers that have fallen off the innumerable garlands that people bring along. School kids would line up for pictures. You could chance to see some old Gandhians as well, conspicuous by their Khadi dress and radiant, ascetic bearing. You may chance to hear someone walk up there and sing “Raghupati Raghava Raja Ram”…Oh yes, there would be the usual posse of press and TV cameramen as well. Overall, it would make for a very nice ambience…

No steps or platform this year.   

Perhaps it was because of the bandh-that-was-not-a-bandh yesterday at Chennai. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, the statue had no scaffolding or steps. It was quite as usual, with some nice floral decorations around the pedestal and a large garland stretching from the neck to the feet of the statue.

Lots of flag bearing workers of different political parties had gathered in front of the statue. Lots of cameramen, of course. Imperial looking, flag-bearing, big-cars horned non-stop as they pulverized their right of way to the venue. Lots of cars and auto-rickshaws with posters of different political parties and politicians.

Someone garlanded the Sivaji Ganesan statue that has been erected just across in the middle of the road, about forty five degrees to the left of Gandhi statue.

The weather was perfect. It had rained a bit last night and the sky was cloudy and the breeze was nice and refreshing…

Here’s a picture from the venue…

As one stood around, mouthing a silent prayer to the Mahatma, the lines of Mahatma Gandhi’s favorite hymn - Vaishnava Jana to - rang in one’s mind.

Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye je
PeeD paraayi jaaNe re
Par-dukhkhe upkaar kare toye
Man abhimaan na aaNe re

Here is a free translation of the hymn…

Him, one should call as a Vaishnava,
A true devotee of God,
Who feels the pain of others
Who helps those in distress
Who allows not pride to enter his mind.

Bowing humbly to all, speaking ill of none,
Pure his speech, deeds, thoughts,
Blessed, O Blessed, is his mother…

Looking at all with equal eye
Having renounced all sensual desires
Considers para-stree as his mother
His tongue may tire but will utter no lie
He touches not others’ wealth…

Delusion-moh-maya binds him not
His mind is rooted in firm renunciation
He is ever tasting the elixir of the name of Rama
His body and mind, are the whole lot of holy places…

He has no greed, no deceit,
Has renounced all lust and anger,
For whose sight, thirsts Narsi (the poet)
Whose virtue liberates one’s whole lineage!

**

As one leaves  the venue,  one remembers Delhi as well, and the last words of the Mahatma…

Delhi diary (Sep 07) - 1

Despite the crass commerce and exploding traffic, there is a certain timelessness in Delhi.. A quiet joy fills me as the car I am in passes a couple of horses and a camel, as we drive into Delhi from the airport. A score or so of young army recruits are jogging down the highway as well, dressed in colorful knickers. One knows they are armed-forces-folks, from the nature of their crowns - their hair crew-cut to the skin of the skull.

Time sure intersects in Delhi.  Or rather, it battles.

Take this street in DU (Delhu University) side of Delhi. This is an ancient sort of place, where all religions co-exist in one street. There is a Gurudwara, a mandir, a masjid, and an old grave yard as well. And the simple folks who reside here, live their life and faith in the open. Religious festivals, bereavements - whatever - it is all out there in the open, down the street. Kind of place where you would find cycle rickshaws, and a faqir with a three-eyed-cow applying red-vermilion on the foreheads of the faithful. Where you find bustling little street bazars…If its Sunday, maybe its books, and Monday, vegetables…

‘Time’ has now decided that it’s time to spring a surprise on this place. They say that a massive shopping-mall is going to come up right here.

“Can you imagine?” asks Roy, a gentleman who works in DU….

“God” he says…”Give another five-ten years and I am sure that the whole stretch from Delhi to Jaipur will be lined up with shopping malls on both sides of the highway…All connected to each other…So you could actually shop, and walk across from Delhi to Jaipur by hopping from mall to mall in air conditioned comfort”.

There sure is no shortage of capital in the capital.

The march of time goes on…  The new money-spilling-out-of-the-purse Delhi is on song… Reminds me of the Michael Jackson number, “I am bad” :

But they say the skys the limit
And to me thats really true
And my friends you have seen nothin
Just wait til I get through . . .

Because Im bad, Im bad-come on
(bad bad-really, really bad)
You know Im bad, Im bad-you know it
(bad bad-really, really bad)

… . .

Or that song by Madona - “I am a material girl“….

But all such songs of a mall-aa-mall Delhi will still not be able to silence the spirit of timeless Delhi… An old faqir in that old Delhi street will still sing, in the words of Daagh Dehlvi,

Saaz Ya Keena Saaz Kya Janey
Naz walay Niyaz kiya Janey…