Three factors have caused this increasingly intensifying urge to explore the Walled City - that book by William Dalrymple, that film by Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra and that blog by Mayank Austen Soofi. This is an account of the first part of the first of my attempts which took place on the day before yesterday...
Sunday was when the pride parade was held in, among other cities, Delhi. But I was not in attendance - instead, I chose to go to a place which might not be there in a couple of weeks' time; a city landmark, known for being the biggest of its kind in the country, which I'd never been to in spite of all my years in the capital; an establishment of sorts (just like the many other weekly bazaars in the newer parts of the city) which may fall prey to unbridled modernisation any time soon. I'm talking about the Daryaganj Sunday Book Market - which I was told was the one place where one could find rare and out-of-print material and have talks with the knowledgeable salespersons.
So, me and my friend (this character deserves a series of posts, including about this very trip - will write one from his perspective later maybe) were off after some slight confusion on account of metro construction and either of us not having travelled in a while (I was in Bombay; he sticks to the home-college-home routine unless coaxed to do otherwise). We got into one of those infamous killer bluelines inside which were painted words of wisdom like "bina ticket savari karna bheekh mangne jaisa hai" and finally managed to reach our destination quite fast, mostly because of the non-existent Sunday traffic (Got green signals at both the ITO junctions - how about that Delhiites?). Now I've been here many times but, except for the couple of visits to Lal Qila, only on my way to the ISBT or the North Campus or the Old Delhi Rly Stn, so this was the first time I actually paid heed to the sudden transition as soon as one crosses Delhi Gate - on one side you have the wide boulevards of New Delhi complete with the floodlights of Ambedkar Stadium, the greenery, etc. and on the other, there are two lanes each way, out of which one of the northbound ones is taken over by a hastily parked autorickshaw. Or a line of two-wheelers. Or vendors. Or a multitude of abandoned hand-carts. It was while I was taking these details in that I learnt a valuable lesson: shorts and chappals on a scorching summer's day aren't necessarily the best option - they may reduce sweat, but they sure make your feet almost burst out in flames. Still, we walked and we walked - first towards Delhi Gate (since we had got off the bus bang in the middle of the market) and then up north towards Jama Masjid.
Now most of it turned out to be romanticised hogwash, but I wasn't really surprised as I normally am at situations where my expectations are not met by a couple of miles. True, the sellers were not willing to bargain("hundrad rupiz - discount ke baad ka bata raha hoon") and had no idea about the books and authors ("jo hai bas yahi sab hai - dekh lo, agar mil jaye"). True, there was not a single rare, out-of-print book or magazine that I could find - not that there is any guarantee of finding anything, given that it is your typical raddi bazaar where things turn up by sheer luck and nothing else (a couple of shops had huge piles of books, each selling at 10 or 20 bucks but even the most careful excavation does not assure you of results). True, even though it technically stretched from before Delhi Gate to the foot-bridge at the Jama Masjid signal, there weren't as many books as one might imagine - although that's mainly because of the fact that, sort of but not quite like the Eastern Ghats, the shops were quite sporadic and not as continously spread over every inch of the footpath as one might expect. But all of these could not spoil the good mood which I found myself in - in spite of being dehydrated even after bottles of water and Nimbooz and in spite of having scorched feet - on account of simply enjoying a walk down that street which happened to be in a Delhi far removed from the southern part of the city I'm used to - where walking as a pleasurable activity isn't quite conceivable. Plus, I did manage to get some books - and that too within my mental benchmark of Rs. 40. And renew my interest in photography. In fact, I'm going to do something I usually never do - accentuate my text with some pictures!
But that's for the next post. For now, I'll be signing off, while you try to visualize a crumbling old entrance to the walled city, a crowded footpath with most shutters down giving just about enough space for the second-hand sellers to display their wares and buyers to browse them, electric poles with a mesh of wires dangling precariously, a road which gives the illusion of being crowded with traffic even on a Sunday thanks to its width (or lack thereof) coupled with encroachments and old, really old shops and establishments - all of which made walking there a joy. We did of course go further ahead - but that's for the post after the next post.
Sunday was when the pride parade was held in, among other cities, Delhi. But I was not in attendance - instead, I chose to go to a place which might not be there in a couple of weeks' time; a city landmark, known for being the biggest of its kind in the country, which I'd never been to in spite of all my years in the capital; an establishment of sorts (just like the many other weekly bazaars in the newer parts of the city) which may fall prey to unbridled modernisation any time soon. I'm talking about the Daryaganj Sunday Book Market - which I was told was the one place where one could find rare and out-of-print material and have talks with the knowledgeable salespersons.
So, me and my friend (this character deserves a series of posts, including about this very trip - will write one from his perspective later maybe) were off after some slight confusion on account of metro construction and either of us not having travelled in a while (I was in Bombay; he sticks to the home-college-home routine unless coaxed to do otherwise). We got into one of those infamous killer bluelines inside which were painted words of wisdom like "bina ticket savari karna bheekh mangne jaisa hai" and finally managed to reach our destination quite fast, mostly because of the non-existent Sunday traffic (Got green signals at both the ITO junctions - how about that Delhiites?). Now I've been here many times but, except for the couple of visits to Lal Qila, only on my way to the ISBT or the North Campus or the Old Delhi Rly Stn, so this was the first time I actually paid heed to the sudden transition as soon as one crosses Delhi Gate - on one side you have the wide boulevards of New Delhi complete with the floodlights of Ambedkar Stadium, the greenery, etc. and on the other, there are two lanes each way, out of which one of the northbound ones is taken over by a hastily parked autorickshaw. Or a line of two-wheelers. Or vendors. Or a multitude of abandoned hand-carts. It was while I was taking these details in that I learnt a valuable lesson: shorts and chappals on a scorching summer's day aren't necessarily the best option - they may reduce sweat, but they sure make your feet almost burst out in flames. Still, we walked and we walked - first towards Delhi Gate (since we had got off the bus bang in the middle of the market) and then up north towards Jama Masjid.
Now most of it turned out to be romanticised hogwash, but I wasn't really surprised as I normally am at situations where my expectations are not met by a couple of miles. True, the sellers were not willing to bargain("hundrad rupiz - discount ke baad ka bata raha hoon") and had no idea about the books and authors ("jo hai bas yahi sab hai - dekh lo, agar mil jaye"). True, there was not a single rare, out-of-print book or magazine that I could find - not that there is any guarantee of finding anything, given that it is your typical raddi bazaar where things turn up by sheer luck and nothing else (a couple of shops had huge piles of books, each selling at 10 or 20 bucks but even the most careful excavation does not assure you of results). True, even though it technically stretched from before Delhi Gate to the foot-bridge at the Jama Masjid signal, there weren't as many books as one might imagine - although that's mainly because of the fact that, sort of but not quite like the Eastern Ghats, the shops were quite sporadic and not as continously spread over every inch of the footpath as one might expect. But all of these could not spoil the good mood which I found myself in - in spite of being dehydrated even after bottles of water and Nimbooz and in spite of having scorched feet - on account of simply enjoying a walk down that street which happened to be in a Delhi far removed from the southern part of the city I'm used to - where walking as a pleasurable activity isn't quite conceivable. Plus, I did manage to get some books - and that too within my mental benchmark of Rs. 40. And renew my interest in photography. In fact, I'm going to do something I usually never do - accentuate my text with some pictures!
But that's for the next post. For now, I'll be signing off, while you try to visualize a crumbling old entrance to the walled city, a crowded footpath with most shutters down giving just about enough space for the second-hand sellers to display their wares and buyers to browse them, electric poles with a mesh of wires dangling precariously, a road which gives the illusion of being crowded with traffic even on a Sunday thanks to its width (or lack thereof) coupled with encroachments and old, really old shops and establishments - all of which made walking there a joy. We did of course go further ahead - but that's for the post after the next post.
wow...great narration... still doesnt attract me to delhi...
ReplyDeleteeh? You decided to go to Daryaganj in the summer heat? I for one thing have never gone there during my short stay of 3 years in New Delhi.
ReplyDeleteAs you mentioned, one rarely finds rare books at such places. + the place will be so crowded that the probability of getting one's pocket picked is very high. Considering all this, I never thought it was worth going to Daryaganj to save Rs 10 on a book when I could get it at the local book store without sweating it out.
I don't know whether you have been to Delhi before, but do try to visit the India Habitat Center on the Lodhi Road. It is a cultural centre par excellence. The Drama shows there are really good. Cheerz :)