The guide told us the winning strategy of the Muslims was kill or enslave all the men, enslave the women, produce more children for slave armies for further invasions.” Untold numbers of men were killed. Slavery persists till today and accounted for the architectural wonders then. Slaves would only be fed when they completed their work.
I remember a colleague who survived a communist slave/concentration camp saying that that was the same strategy the Pol Pot used. ‘It’s amazing what you will do to eat when you are hungry.”
I was most impressed with the 4th Century Iron Pillar of Vishnu. It has some special properties that allowed it to exist for 1600 years without rusting. I could certainly use that secret for my steel sailboat.
We ambled about the ruins with our guide telling us differences between Hindu, Buddhism and Jainism. He said Jainism is a ‘more refined buddhism’. I’m not sure buddhists would agree but I loved his “opinions’ and sought just these. He was the first Jain I’d met. He was highly entertaining and very learned. He loved to laugh and smile. At one point he listed all the contributions of the cow to mankind and shared the recent finds that cow urine contained properties that helped the immune system. It was now being used in treatment of cancer and Aids. He thought ayurvedic medicine was so insightful. Said Keralla was the site of many of Ayurvedic Medicine’s great centres. “The best doctors and nurses come from schools in the south of India."
He was a vegetarian and shared the idea that Karma is about intent and action. He says that as a Jain if he steps on an ant unknowingly he is not affected by the universal law of karma as he would be if he killed an ant by intent. He admitted to having killed mosquitos but said that there was a tree with properties that caused mosquitoes to leave the house. He said this was the ‘better’ way and believed that there was always a better ‘non violent way’.
With our driver we drove on to Hamanyun’s Tomb. This was built 90 years before the Taj Mahal, in the 16th centre. It was the inspiration for the Taj Mahal. It is still considered with the best of Indo Islamic architecture. Laura and I loved it for it’s peacefulness. The lovely grounds were home to chipmunks and birds. Dogs sprawled out here and there. People came with their children to walk about. A great place to go for a visit. 200 dead people in tombs in this great mausoleum. 4 gates to the shrine. The West Gate is the most important as it leads to Heaven.
After Hamanyun’s Tomb the driver took us on to New Delhi. The British ruled since their overthrow of the Mughals in the 17th and 18th century. They remained in power until the the 1940’s when India gained it’s independence. The great 19th century British buildings of the Prime Minister’s and Parliament were impressive. We didn’t visit due to security. Delhi Police barriers were everywhere. We passed India gate too. Appropriate for Remembrance Day for it celebrates the Indian contribution to the Great War.
New Delhi had been built where there had been swamps with lots of rain and lots of greenery. We visited a great well which filled to the brim with the rains of monsoon seasons. I climbed the 108 steps down to the floor of the well which was damp but held no water at this time. Delhi is having concerns about water with the increasing numbers of people, the city growing by millions
We had the best vegetarian lunch in the Lazeez Affairs restaurant popular with the diplomats. The uniformed waiters were amazingly efficient and friendly. Laura and I had mango lassiesfollowed by garlic naan bread. Laura had tandoori cauliflower and I had a spicy curried paneer with cheese cubes. Safron rice was served as well. We couldn’t finish our meals, they were so filling.
Laura told the waiter, “I’m completely stuffed. I’d finish because it tastes so good but I on a tour. I have to climbs up and down stairs and I couldn’t if I ate another bite."
After lunch we stopped at a lovely artists enclave called Cottage Enterprises. All the offerings, silver and gold jewelry and statues and rugs were of the finest qualities. We’d told the guide that Laura was interested in Pashimi’s and here we were in the Pashimi shop to beat all Pashimi shops. The owner was modest saying there were only some ’50 other families’ in India who offered the quality they offered. They knew the herders in Cashimere. He had a picture of a Himalyan goat to explain the different pashimi’s.
“These are no Chinese products which is what you’ll get mostly if you just buy a pashimi cheap. The Chinese have flooded the market with knock offs. They’re not the real thing. These are the real thing. Mother’s pass on their grandmother’s pashminas to their daughters. It’s not uncommon for these to last in a family 80 or a hundred years." He said proudly laying out the beautiful fabrics.
"There’s 4 qualities of Pashimi The lowest is from legs of the goat. The next is from the belly. The best though is from the chin hair only. The Shamini is the finest and most expensive only because it’s the first hair cut of the young goat. When the goat is sheared the next time it’s no longer a shammini but a pashmina." He had each of the four fabrics on the table showing the softness and feel of the material."
Laura loved the red cheapest one. I liked that in her. But her eyes lit up at the idea of the baby goat shamani. “It’s her first hair cut." She said. The goat had suddenly acquired gender.
“I want to get my sister in law one. She’s a doctor with exquisitely refined taste. She might not understand a baby goat’s being sheered for her. Though being a specialist in young child care. “ I said.
“Its the first hair cut. All babies have their first hair cut.” Laura retorted.
“I don’t think I could explain that to her. Besides I know she’d like the autumn colours of this pashmina and I’ll enjoy telling her it’s from the chin of a Himalayan goat.” I had to use my credit cards but Laura was delighted and I was really pleased I had Adell’s Christmas present. I’ve been giving her scarves and purses for years but I know I haven’t given her anything made from just the chin of a goat. So I was pleased too.
Laura also got the tunic she wanted. The shop was just so fine. Lovely people and the finest of wares. An artist and crafts place for the discerning.
After we headed on to the Gandhi monument. “He was shot because of the partition of India. The Muslims wouldn’t get on with the Hindu and partition became necessary. But who could partition the motherland. People were told they could move or stay. Lord Elgin was very disappointed with he partitionof the Punjab, Lahore going to Pakaistan. It was the way the partition occurred. Gandhi said that when he died he wanted his ashes kept so they could be spread on the rivers when India reunited. But he was shot by a man three times and died at this site. People had come here to pay homage and eventually the government built this monument to this great man. There are plagues on those trees. Countries plant trees as gifts."
We stood in Remembrance on Remembrance Day at the shrine to Non Violence. So many great men assassinated in my time. So many died.
We drove on then to the Friday Mosque in Old Delhi. “If you can’t go to the mosque more often then you are supposed to come on Friday. The whole community worships here. The Muslims are so powerful as a group that if they didn’t want the Prime Minister they could together depose him. The Mosque is a spiritual centre and a political centre for the community.’
Laura had to rent a gown to enter and I had to pay a camera tax. “The upkeep of the mosque is done with these contributions by tourists mainly.” It was about a dollar for each. Laura was approached repeatedly by young women wanting to have her in their pictures. “it’s because she’s beautiful and it’s a compliment but it’s also because her skin is so peaches and cream white.”
Often I was included in the pictures like we were visiting rock stars. All in good fun and rather pleasant. We felt ‘included’ The whole mosque was a children’s play ground and it reminded me of Willi Gutowski’s Pentecostal Church where families love to gather and the church is the centre of community.
After that our guide hailed us a bicycle rickshaw driver he knew to ride us through Old Delhi markets and bazarre. “Bizarre Bazzar”, I said to Laura as we were pedalled through the narrow teaming crowded streets. Motorcycles, scooters, rickshaws, pedestrians, merchants, dogs and a bedlam of wrangling customers and merchants and constantly beeping horns with everyone smiling. Our driver was talking on his cellular causing Laura and I too laugh considering the seriousness of ‘distracted driver fines’ back home. It was a cacophony of sites and smells and sounds. Overhead a spider’s web of old electrical and telephone wires hung. The ride was an explosion of humanity.
I don’t do well in crowds so all my senses were awake and I had to simply surrender and enjoy the variety of markets. Sections for saris, others for weddings, blocks for ophtometrist and then shoes. We stopped in the old spice market. Our waiting guide told us there that many of these shops had been here hundreds of years passed along in family. The market dated back to the 17th century. Spices were so important to food.Counters full of salts from different sources. Various types of peppers. Multiple sources of every imaginable spice. We entered one shop with special packages prepared for people who were travelling by planes. I didn’t plan to bring back spice and we had no room in our bags but ‘what the heck’ . We now have teas and spices from Delhi spice market and hope we’ll be able to get our bags closed and carry them on the plane.
It was night time when we got back to the car and thanked our guide who departed. Our amazing driver took on the Delhi night street circus with all the buses, cars , trucks and motorcycles. A larger version of the bazaar with pedestrians not dodging among the vehicles. Cows were lying in the middle of the street sometimes with everyone detouring around them. Dozens of monkeys were at one corner. A dog was cautiously making it’s way across the street. Everything was like a dance with our driver obviously a stunt driver from Fast and Furious. Arriving at the Pullman at 7 pm was a delight. I was exhausted. What a full and wonderful day. Laura felt the same.
Now I’ve woken at 4 in the morning, still on a different time schedule. I’m a little stiff from all the climbing and actually looking forward to attending the conference which starts today.
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1 comment:
thank you for sharing deeply information. i really like your article. your article very interesting and helpful.
Delhi day tour by car
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