Delhi is like no other place on earth. The capital of India and home to 20 million, all of whom crowd the streets, souk-like bazaars, sidewalks and roads day and night. There are no signs, no traffic rules, no order. The chaos is both overwhelming and glorious; a sensual assault.
Dive in with a cycle rickshaw ride at noon, the height of the wedding season, just before Diwali (India’s high holiday) in the center of a shopping cyclone.
This is the heart of Old Delhi, Main Street Chandni Chowk, once the imperial avenue of Mughal royalty. Wholesale center of wedding finery at the height of wedding season. Wall to wall bodies, every conceivable method of transport, one continual jamp-up of shoppers, hawkers, motorbikes, cyclo-rickshaws, food carts. And horns. Indians have limitless affection for horn blasts. A street language only they understand.
Then Qutub Minar: the world’s tallest brick minaret complex, which lies at the site of Delhi’s oldest fortified city.
Still largely a city of migrants with each regional community still true to its own cultural identity. To be savoured singly or in its brilliant confusion!
From Old Delhi to New Delhi. Raj Ghat, location of the memorial of the Father of the Nation, Mahatma Gandhi and his cremation site. Crowds thin. Noise abates. We remove our shoes to enter the large central worship site.
At sunset, the 20th century magnificent Birla Temple, inaugurated by Mahatma Gandhi who insisted that members of all castes would be allowed entry. There are also small shrines on the sides dedicated to Shiva, Ganesha, Hanuman and Buddha. First large Hindu temple built in Delhi.
A drive past the India Gate War Memorial built to honor and remember soldiers of the Indian Armed Forces who fought in armed conflicts of independent India.
And this is just Day One…stay tuned!
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