Red Fort, Biryani and a Chandni Chowk Story

ARE YOU NUTS? You are going to Delhi in winter! Do you have any idea how cold it is out there? You’ll be frozen to death!' — was my friend’s astounded reaction on knowing about my plan to visit Delhi last month. I didn’t take his caution seriously. I had been to Darjeeling before in the month of January. Surely Delhi’s winter will be a lot more bearable, I thought.

As the first gush of chilly wind greeted me the moment I stepped out of the train, I realized my folly. It was around 7 in the evening and even with my pullovers on, I could hear my teeth chattering. Coupled with the cold wave, was a thick mantle of fog hanging over the entire city, making it look like one of those blurred photographs.

I was a kid (8 years, precisely) when I first visited Delhi. That’s when the love story kicked off, and every time I made a trip to Delhi I could sense the strengthening of the bond. There’s something irresistibly magical about the place — the more you delve into it, the more enticing it becomes — although I could never really figure out what it is.

Delhi is a lot like Kolkata. The city isn’t a single homogenous entity, but a multitude of existence closely intertwined. Conflicting and coexisting at the same time, you’ll find in Delhi paradoxes galore. And this dichotomy of the city’s character is what attracts me the most. Take a stroll through the bustling streets of Old Delhi, the labyrinthine lanes of Chandni Chowk and Chawri Bazaar, peep into Ghantewala halwai for a mouthful of sweets, or gorge on piping hot paranthas at Gali Paranthewali — you can’t help but fall in love with the place, almost instantly. However there’s more to the city than what exists within the walls of Shahjahanabad. The wide tree-lined boulevards, trendy cars, imposing buildings of Raisina Hill, the Georgian architecture of CP — the Delhi of Lutyens stands in stark contrast to the narrow lanes congested with cycle-rickshaws, dilapidated buildings still boasting of Mughal flavour and the old-age charm of Purani Dilli. Then there’s the new modern Delhi that resides in South Extension, GK, Malviya Nagar, Vasant Vihar — chic, upmarket and moneyed. It’s amazing to find a city having such a rich tapestry of history, heritage and modernity.

The Red Fort debacle

After reaching the hotel, I started making a plan for the next day’s sightseeing. The over-enthusiastic manager handed me a travel brochure containing a list of the most popular places of interest in Delhi. But since we had been to these places quite a few times before, this time we opted for the little known, lesser visited tourist spots. Tughlakabad Fort, Safdarjung Tomb, Khirki Masjid, Khuni Darwaza, Balban’s Tomb, Qila Rai Pithora, Majnu-ka-Tila, Razia Sultana’s Tomb, Haveli of Mirza Ghalib and Zeenat Mahal — the manager’s enthusiasm started wearing off before I could even complete the list.

'These places don’t fall within the regular tourist circuit, it’ll cost you more money,' he tried hard to deter us.

'We’ll see the Red Fort as well. That was left out last time,' I was adamant.

'But woh road toh abhi bandh hain! The Republic Day parade rehearsals are going on there,' he smiled (in relief, of course).

'I know, still...' I was losing ground.

Then came the knockdown.

'What will you do seeing the Red Fort? You’ve visited Agra Fort and Fatehpur Sikri na? Imagine those two monuments and combine them in your mind. Bas, ban gaya Red Fort!'

Phew.

Biryani like never before

After visiting Jama Masjid I instructed our driver Irfan to take us to Karim’s for lunch. This is perhaps the most legendary and immensely popular Mughlai restaurant in Delhi that even we, Kolkatans are well aware of. The location of the eatery is a little obscure although. It required quite a bit ‘asking people’ and ‘mazing through the lanes’ before we finally spotted it. A word of caution here: those expecting a magnificent building with stylish interiors will surely be disappointed. However, the food makes it up for everything else. For foodies like me it’s a gastronomic delight. Once seated, we ordered for Mutton Biryani, Shami Kebab, Chicken Noor Jehan and Kheer Benazir as dessert. I wanted to taste the hugely famous Badam Pasanda (boneless mutton cooked with yoghurt, almonds and spices. Yum!) but we were already so filled up that I had to sacrifice the mutton.

Despite running short of superlatives, the food was sheer heaven. Never before had I tasted Mughlai khana as khandani as this. The Biryani cooked in Awadhi style was a welcome shift from the Calcutta Biryani I’ve grown up on. Potatoes, an indispensible part of the latter is absent in the former. The chicken too was divine, so was the kheer. For all food-lovers visiting Delhi, here’s a must-do: eat at Karim’s. It’s a lifetime experience.

Telling tales of Chandni Chowk

On our way back, Irfan narrated some bizarre tales of conning people (outsiders, mostly) at Chandni Chowk — the ‘con heaven’, according to him. The shopkeepers here find some way or the other to fool customers, and sometimes in quite unique ways as well. Once he was standing outside his car while keeping his mobile on the dashboard. Suddenly a boy appearing from nowhere asked him to pick up a 10-rupee note that was lying near his feet. 'It wasn’t mine; still I picked it up,' said Irfan. But as he stood up, he realised his foolishness. The boy had disappeared, and so had his mobile!

Shopkeepers in Chandni Chowk have a freakish way of selling things. They will cry ‘ten bucks for a T-shirt’ as you walk past the shops. Curious, you might halt to get a closer look. That’s the bull’s eye moment. Within no time you’ll find a T-shirt landing on your shoulder and the shopkeeper demanding that you’ll have to buy it since you have already tried it out! Pissed off, you might even agree to buy it for 10 bucks. And here comes the double whammy. The shopkeeper will invariably charge you 100 bucks, arguing that you hadn’t heard him correctly! 'Banda bargain karega bhi toh kitna?' chuckled Irfan.

That’s Delhi. Love it. Hate it. You can’t help but get captivated by it.

One Photo Please!

PHOTOGRAPHY IS OUR national passion. It’s in our genes, actually. Every single memory — happy or sad — is expressed in terms of photos. Hey, have you been to Agra? Haan yaar, went there for my honeymoon. Wait, I’ll show you the photos — right away comes a picture of the husband and wife standing in front of the Taj Mahal, holding hands and grinning. Pati, patni aur woh!

Now that’s what you call a photographic memory (no pun intended), don’t you?

‘Person’ and not the ‘place’ is all that matters while taking pictures — the golden rule of great Indian photography. You may visit anywhere — Delhi or Dubai, Varanasi or Vancouver — but do remember to take pictures with you in the frame. Always. The background is immaterial. You might be standing in front of the Taj, but more than the monument it’s you who is important. Shah Jahan’s creation might get out of focus, but not you. Never. Else you are in deep trouble — Arrey, you visited the Taj Mahal? Then how come you aren’t there in any of the photos? What’s the point in taking pictures of the monument only?

The logic is quite simple. Your photos act as a proof that you actually visited the place (yes, you read it correctly). Few weeks back a Facebook friend of mine uploaded some pictures of his trip to Delhi, and as expected he was present in each of them. No Red Fort, Qutab Minar, nothing. It was him everywhere. Looked as if the guy had done an entire photo shoot over there. In fact, had it not been for the lone India Gate in the background of one of his photos, I would have had enough reason to believe that the pictures were taken in the backyard of his house.

I wonder why people can’t concentrate on the beauty of the place (instead of their own) while taking snaps. Is it so important to make ‘human’ presence visible in each and every frame? Let your camera capture the splendour and picturesqueness of the place, the way it actually is. Why tamper it with artificiality? Good travel photography should attempt to capture the essence of the place, not mar its serenity with mindless look-at-me poses. I would any day prefer a snap of the Taj Mahal alone than that of an oh-so-romantic couple standing in front of the monument in an oh-so-appalling manner. The latter takes away the elegance of the subject (the Taj, that is) overcrowding it with unnecessary objects. However, this doesn’t mean that I’m against so-called ‘family vacation pictures’. They do conjure up fond memories of holidays. But can’t they be kept natural?

Unfortunately, in most of such pictures you’ll notice three distinct features: people standing in awkward ‘attention commandos’ posture, their eyes fixated on the camera lens and a stupid smile on their otherwise stiff faces — Everyone come closer... Dolly don’t move beta!... Pinku look at the camera and don’t blink... now all of you say cheese! Urghhh.

Posing for photograph — that’s something everyone (there’s no diversity in this unity) is quite fond of. And therefore you will find some of the most bizarre poses ever seen. I still remember a photo taken at the Taj Mahal where the husband and wife were facing each other with the Taj in between and — here comes the surprise — both their hands raised above in a gesture of touching the tip of the monument! A little trick photography can do such ‘monumental’ wonders (and you thought one needs to be a Raghu Rai to take mind-boggling snaps). Dumb.

I’ve long been labelled as a high-brow aantel by my family and friends since I refuse to take their pictures during our vacations. Ki shudhu rasta-ghat gaach-palar chhobi tule beras? Take our pictures too! — laments my mom often. But I’m glad there are still some people who think otherwise. During my recent trip to Delhi I met two elderly Iranian women, who asked me to take their photo with the Qutab Minar in the background. As I asked them to come closer in the frame, one of the women said, ‘Keep it like that. We are not important, the place is.’ Her statement said it all.