DELHI DELIGHTS

After the ups and downs of yesterday, I hired the same taxi man to take me around some more sights in southern Delhi. This time, it was fascinating...

I still feel a bit all at sea here as its so big. I also feel very touristy, which I haven't elsewhere. This is a true capital city, vast and majestic, with a life which will always go on without you. I love the atmosphere. Its much more laid back than anywhere else I have been. The air of confidence is palpable. I think it would be possible to be born and live in Delhi all your life and never see anything else of India, much like so many other capitals of the world. As a consequence, of course, you would never get a sense of your own country. We are miles away from the privations and suffering I saw in places like Madurai or Tiruvanammalai. Many of the south Indians I met would marvel at what there is in Delhi.

Pizzas for instance. I managed to find one yesterday, although not with a beer, alas. It was very welcome. Just what I needed. And not too expensive. I fell into conversation with two Delhi students sitting next to me who I liked, although quite soon I may invest in a little lapel badge saying, 'Thank you for not asking if I am married'. A bit late, I suppose, as I've been asked it by pretty much everyone everywhere in India. Its nothing kinky, its just polite over here. Since no-one reaches my age without getting married very much over here it comes as a shock to Indians when I have to explain that I am not. THey ask to make conversation. Family is important over here. Some Westerners I have met have turned to saying 'Yes I am married' and sprouting fantasy children back home so as to short circuit the conversation. Ah well. I was warned.

Today kicked off with a drive around the Parliament buildings and the nearby India Gate. They are huge, far larger than anything we have in the UK. They also give you the rather surreal sense of BEING in the UK as they look as if they were lifted directly from London, which, in a sense, they were. We Brits built them during the Raj. It feels odd to think that the newly independent Indian Government should not have decided to build their own Parliament buildings in 1948 and instead chose to continue to meet in the old British seat of power. But hey! Who am I to judge?

As well as the Parliament buildings there is a the President's Residency at the apex, facing the India Gate down a long, Washington-like walkway. In fact the whole place has that Washington, Masonic feel. Impressive, but odd.

After that, the driver took me to Hamuyan's Tomb, which is the burial site of the first of the Moghul rulers (Akbar's dad I think). As in Agra, it is a masterpiece of design, set in cool, relaxing gardens. Beside the entrance is the Sarai (Rest)building of the Architect who built it. A well-wisher on the net had dropped me a snotty e suggesting I was immoral for liking the Taj Mahal because of the brutal way in which its architect was treated after it (eyes poked out so that he couldn't build another one. THanks for that. I will burn all my pictures tomorrow) and I hoped the same hadn't happened to this guy...

The Tomb itself is breathtaking. A little like the Taj, the central mausoleum just gives you this incredible sense of space. Three stories high with Hayuman's grave in the middle, like Akbar's burial place, it is very cool and simple. Each window is filled with wonderful geometric patterns through which the light pours. Looking around me, I noticed the whole thing was in the round, just like the Royal Exchange where I worked and the Round Churches the Templars used to build. Its so clear to me now how our architecture in Europe was changed by our encounter with Islam during the Crusades. Islam itself was in turn influenced by its encounter with Byzantium, basing its Mosques on Byzantine Churches. This particular tomb was also influenced by Persian design. In the end, the myth that the different religions and cultures all sprang up independently of each other is just so much self-deluding crap. We have always been flowing together, even when at war.

I loved Hayuman's Tomb and left it reluctantly, but needs must. Next stop was Nizramuddin's Tomb in the Muslim quarter of town. This was a smidge of a disappointment (although I have a feeling I missed something), but visiting the bustling Muslim area was like going back in time, although it was clear how depressed the community was. It must be hard having once been the rulers of India now being a small but significant minority. I don't know how prosperous the Muslims are in India but this enclave looked tough.

From there to the wonderful Lotus Temple of the Bahai faith. I think this has been the highlight of my stay in Delhi and I would count it as one of the most beautiful things I have seen out here. It looks a little like Sydney Opera House and is built in the form of an enormous closed Lotus of white surrounded by pools of blue water and a vast, elegant garden. Aerial shots of it in the complex itself reveal its beauty even more as, like so many others of the sacred sites I have seen out here, its layout reveals itself in all its splendour from above (those who think this means ancient sites were built to be viewed by Aliens flying above take heed... that wasn't the plan here and need not have been the plan elsewhere).

Unlike everywhere else I have been, no-one in the Lotus Temple wanted my money. The Bahai clearly have high standards of honour and take what they do seriously rather than as a way of cadging rupees (mind you, they all looked a lot more prosperous than most of the guys I saw in the other siets of worship. I am almost certainly being unfair. I guess I am losing my patience with endlessly being seen as a cash cow, especially here in Delhi). You approach the Temple along an elegant pathway through the gardens. In keeping with the syncretic idea of the Bahai, in which all religions are welcome and seen as speaking of the same reality, it is circular with nine petals of the lotus fanning out from the centre. Like the Taj, it is built so that its backdrop is the sky and the sky alone. It reminded me a little of the Matramandir I saw in Auroville too, although the Lotus Temple is far more beautiful, to me anyway.

Inside, one sits in complete silence in the vast open space beneath the lotus ceiling, in the centre of which is a star-shaped design with nine points. Its wonderfully peaceful and in no way austere, unwelcoming, gloomy or oppressive. The ethic of the place is that everyone is welcome to just sit and meditate or take in the vibe. There are no ceremonies or sermons. Its just an open, welcoming space. I loved it. A Temple to humanity, which is where the Bahai believe God resides.

The texts around the Temple were not so inspiring, but the ethic on display was. Total equality of gender, class, race etc and an open policy towards all religions. I read that Gandhi described the Bahai Faith as 'a solace to all'. I remembered that Dr David Kelly was a Bahai follower, which made me think a little. Interestingly, my cuz Eleanor told me that part of the inspiration of the movement was Akbar's policy of tolerance for all religions and attempt to synthesise them into a new one. It was a great place.

People are no doubt wondering about my interest in all these religions and asking themselves what I really believe and why I don't follow one. The reason I don't follow one and don't think I ever will is because I am interested in the universality of spirituality, in which case signing up to one at the exclusion of the others is not of interest to me. I also don't think any of them are complete and I reserve the freedom to persue these issues in my own way. I have a deep love and interest in them all - although not uncritically so - and am fascinated by their expression down through time and around me. They speak of something very profound with in us, whether or not one believes in God or not. This is why India is so rich for me as its ethos is pretty much the same. While there have always been and will be conflicts, in essence spirituality is allowed in all its forms in India. You will work hard to find many Atheists, but by and large, intolerance is not predominant and so one can see every spirituality in action wherever you want...

From the Lotus Temple then onwards to... a craftworks shop... Thanks car driver. As this has happened to me 300 times already in India I just rolled my eyes and played along, refusing to buy anything. Tea was offered, I was shown how to weave a Kashmir rug and efforts were made to enable me to buy a sandlewood statue but to no avail. It was a shame as I had grown to like my driver. Ah well...

He finished by dropping me at a second Sikh Gurudwara in Delhi just round the corner to the YMCA. Again I loved it. Again like the Lotus Temple, no-one was after my money. The Sikh ethic is one of openness and honour, so the shoekeeper people didn't ask for money, the doormen didn't ask for money and so on. As I was about to enter teh Gurudwara itself the spearcarrying guard gestured to my head and I realised I needed to wear a bandana. When he could see I had no idea how to tie it he stepped forward, selected one for me and put it on my head for me. He didn't ask me for any money and instead looked at me warmly and said 'Welcome'. THAT is how it should be done. I like the Sikhs! Honour to that man.

The classic image of India of a man with a beard in a long robe wearing a turban is actually Sikh. The clothes traditional Sikhs wear mark them out. One becomes aware of how powerful the sense of community they have is. It is centred round the idea of the Kalsa, the military tradition which rises up to protect the community in times of threat. Although one gets a feeling of the enormous strength of Sikh men (they are big guys!), one doesn't get a sense of any prnt up anger or rage as one sometimes gets from other religions. Its as if they are all guardsmen of their community but have a strong sense of self discipline. As yesterday, the vibe in the Gurudwara is very welcoming and egalitarian. People come and go, sit together, pray and talk while people sing and recite Scripture (very important for the Sikhs, who revere their Holy Book, the Granth, almost as a God, the repository of the Divine Word). In both Gurudwaras there were rooms in which bearded, robed men with flywhisks were sitting studying the Granth quietly.

As you can tell, I really liked the Sikhs I encountered both here and yesterday. I felt very safe with them, which I haven't always felt everywhere else. No-one tried to scam or cheat me. Instead I felt honoured, welcomed and respected. These felt like good people.

I spent a little time walking around the water of the Gurudwara's Temple Tank, which was lovely in the baking sun, and then headed back to the YMCA for a little lunch. After that, I headed into Connaught Place to find a bookshop. I enjoyed the search, but felt a little wearied by the endless people targeting me and trying it on, from a rickshaw wallah trying to convince me that the shop on my map which was only round the corner was actually miles away to a guy on Connaught Place itself who tried to sell me yet more crappy postcards. When I said, 'No thanks. I have my own camera.' He whipped out, quick as a flash and without breaking his step, a snake charmer's flute and started blowing on it uselessly.

"Flute, sir?" he asked.

I was about to ask him if he had a cousin in Mysore, where I had run a relay race of idiots trying to sell me flutes one after the other as if although I had refused one I had in fact been holding out for the next guy, and then thought better of it.

"No thanks" I said.

At which point he whipped out, seemingly from nowhere (did he have pockets like Dr Who? Where had the flute and postcards gone?) what looked like a cross between a bong and I don't know what...

"Pipe sir?"

"No thanks" I said and moved on, narrowly avoiding another guy who was about to volunteer directions unasked, no doubt hoping for a rupee or two for the information. This went on for a while and I never found the bookshop, although I did find two others, one of which sold me a wonderful rare book at a discount. That's India. The pestering can be draining, but the gems of decency which suddenly jump out make the heart shine. And its not really that bad and no-one means any harm, just after three months of it it can be a bit wearying. Maybe next time someone has
a go at it I will just say, "Look I have been here three months and I know the game. I am not buying..."

So today comes to an end. One more day in Delhi and then down to Bangalore and then Koorg for my last week with the kids. And then, Europe... I am just a month away from London. India is almost over, at least for this episode. It has been and will continue to be, no doubt, amazing, life-enhancing, mind-expanding. I know a lot more about myself and the world and I don't intend to let all that just go back into the box when I get back... I am looking forward to seeing everyone but I am not going to allow myself to get into the same fix I got myself in before I came out. After all those wobbles at the beginning, I don't feel afraid any more. Who knows what lies ahead of me? I may write a book! We shall see... But before I return, I am going to enjoy what I have left. India, Turkey, Greece, France and then London.

Love to all and thank you for reading!