Series
Leaving Goa and its warm weather, as Narayan and I board the plane that will
take us to Delhi we realize that the pilot is frantically waving at us through
the cockpit window: Captain Grover — Narayan's cousin's
husband Sandeep — will be doing the flying. We had tried to arrange for
this, but our busy beach schedule in Goa got in the way... Luckily Sandeep
checked the passenger manifest and arranged to be in charge of our flight.
My first impression is that Delhi is cold and foggy. A serious cold wave made the temperatures, that should have been in the 20C range, closer to 5C. Since Delhi is unbearably hot in the summer, the houses are built so as to be open and well aerated. However when its 5C, with no heating, its really hard. I don't have proper clothes for this weather, and so I am wearing a shawl to keep warm, just like everyone else. Imagine trying to get naked to shower with a bucket of water in this temperature!
But the warmth of the welcome I have received in Narayan's family more than made up for it. They have taken to call me Gangaram, since my name is hard to pronounce. Daily we are subjected to what we affectionately call the Indian Food Torture: eating food in such abundance that we cannot even breathe by the end of the meal. Dinner, for example, will usually start around 7 PM with snacks. The snacks are served in a wide variety, usually 7 small dishes, brought by several members of the family. Everyone will offer me something to taste. After this goes on for a while, I eventually have to start refusing food... But if I refuse they think I am being shy! Anyway, it's useless because if I refuse once, the next person will also try to get food on my plate; so it feels like a constant fight to not get anymore... And if I look away for one second, food magically appears on my plate anyways. By the time I am vanquished, lying in my chair gasping for air, dinner is finally brought out. It is now around 9PM. The first time I must have looked quite discouraged, for Sandeep — champion of great one liners — said cheerfully: Let's overeat! Truly, it's the first time that I meet people for whom food is as much of an obsession as it is with the French...
Delhi itself is a large city, with a population somewhere around 12 million. It is not as green as Mumbai, but clearly populated by just as many animals. Just the other days a troupe of monkeys invaded the roof, got into the fridge and started throwing eggs at the passer-bys. I have spent almost 2 weeks in the city, and learned a great deal about India's ways and culture. Narayan, Sandeep, Geetu (Sandeep's wife) and I shared many movie nights, watching Bollywood flicks and listening to their songs. The best film of 2003 in India was Kal Ho Naa Ho, whose soundtrack is great and very popular here. By the time new year's eve rolled around I new the popular songs of the moment...
New year's was quite something... In Delhi all the hotels put on big parties, and everyone tries to get into one of these. We were lucky that Sandeep's airline sponsored the party at Tivoli Gardens and we were able to get free tickets to attend. It was very appropriate for a company called Sahara Airlines to make sure that none of us went thirsty or hungry.
Narayan's family has been very indulgent in the many questions that I have asked, about various aspects of Indian culture. In particular I am fascinated by the whole concept of arranged marriages. Being of French origins, and un-married; the romantic view in me is that marriages are the culmination of a love story. The more cynical view is not relevant to this part of my story, and I will keep it to myself for now. In India most marriages are arranged by the families. The process starts with the Matrimonials in the Sunday edition of the Hindustan Times or Times of India. Then a written exchange of Bios and Horoscopes may lead to an interview by the families, for pre-screening. Finally the groom and bride will meet the individuals short-listed by the family for a few hours each before making a decision.
When I asked about the role love plays in the marriage, I was told that its not as important as being compatible. Geetu said, with a lot of common sense, that its better to marry someone who loves you than someone you love. While I don't disagree with her, I guess that I always assumed that its better when both people love each other. In India love grows as the groom and bride discover each other over time. Its just a different way of seeing things. But the results of Indian marriage practices are impressive since there are very few divorces. Part of it has to be that since divorce is seen as an extreme option, people are much more willing to compromise in their couples than we are in the western world. In the end, I am now convinced that the system is not all that different from what we have in the west. Do people really know each other when they first get together?
Most of Narayan's maternal family lives in Delhi. Four of his maternal uncles and aunts share the house they grew up in, in an area called Rajendra Nagar. They are very fond of Narayan, whom they hadn't seen for a long time; and I was treated like a member of the clan. Aside from all my inquisitive questions into marriage, culture and family life; we did a bit of sightseeing around Delhi. Delhi has quite a strong Muslim influence from the time of the Mughal empire: an empire built by the Mongol descendants of Genghis Khan and Timur Lang whose trail I followed in Iran (and wanted to track into Uzbekistan). The height of the Mughal empire in India was roughly from the 16th to 18th Centuries.
Qutb Minar is an astonishing minaret whose construction started in the late 12th Century. It stands 73m tall, in the midst of a large complex of ruins that contains a mosque and several over buildings. The minaret is unique in that it is not really part of the mosque, it was more of a monument to a military victory. Delhi's Red Fort, which we saw on a particularly foggy day, is also a remnant of the Mughal empire: built by Shah Jahan (more famous for building the Taj Mahal in Agra) it is almost 2km long and housed extensive housing, a mosque, the public audience hall, gardens and a massive military garrison. The weather unfortunately prevented me from appreciating it fully.
For a change, I detracted from ancient history to learn more about modern Indian politics and Mahatma Gandhi. There is not much I can add here to what is readily available to most of you. He was shot on Jan 30 1948 at Birla House by Nathuram Godse. Birla house is not much visited by tourists: it was empty when we looked at it at sunset. Perhaps this is appropriate, it was more respectful that way. Raj Ghat on the other hand, is the spot where Gandhi was cremated. It has now been turned into a large park, dedicated to peace. It is much busier with both locals and tourists.
We also explored the huge Chhatar Pur complex of temples dedicated to various Gods of the Hindu pantheon. Particularly nice was the huge statue of Hanuman the God of Monkeys. I like the shot of the marble cylinder guarded by the snake: it's called a Shiva-linga, which literally means Shiva's penis. As we walked through the complex and paid our respects to the gods, we were blessed by various priests and religious people. Each time they add some red paint to our foreheads, the Tikka.
Delhi's Lotus temple is the Baha'i House of Worship. Baha'i Faith is relatively recent religion, which originated in Iran in the 1850's. It seems to very tolerant, encompassing all the religions that came before it, all their writings, all their prophets; promoting world peace and harmony. The temple, which is somewhat reminiscent of the Sydney opera house, was designed by a Canadian architect of Iranian origin: Fariborz Sahba and completed in 1986. It is shaped like a 9-sided lotus flower, surrounded by 9 pools of water. Inside is a vast hall, with dimmed natural lighting and incredible acoustics. The volumes inside the structure are intricate, although the hall itself is simply decorated with no text or idols, except for the name of God at the apex of the dome.
An interesting note for the mathematicians amongst you: Indians do not count large numbers in powers of three (thousand, million, billion). In the upper range, they use the lakh (100,000) and the crore (10,000,000). To write large numbers, the commas are displaced to identify these meaningful digit groups: for example 10 lakhs would be 10,00,000 and 10 crores would be 10,00,00,000. At first it may seem confusing but it makes perfect sense once you get used to it.
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