HYDERABAD AND GOOD

Well, Hyderabad turned out to be a city of contrasts! I've been here a day longer than I expected thanks to a miscalculation with dates (which seems to dominate this whole later period of my stay here) and its been a time of the most amazing contradictions.

First impressions didn't augur well. I arrived here at poohead o'clock in the morning after an all night ride on a Sleeper Bus from Bangalore. This was ok, but only allowed for fitful sleep, and given that the bunks meant you couldn't sit up it meant I was forced to lie down for twelve hours. This made for a stiff and achey waking up, bleary-eyed and dehydrdrated. I got off at a stop in Hyderabad, thanks to a helpful woman who wanted to make sure I didn't get off at the wrong place, and was immediately accosted by Rickshaw drivers promising the Heavens. I climbed onto one and the following dialogue took place as we chugged off:

DRIVER: Where too sir?
ME: Sai Prakash Hotel, please.
DRIVER: (as if no such place on earth existed, or at least not in this town) Sai Prakash?
ME: Yes please.
DRIVER: No Sai Prakash here, sir.
ME: Yes there is. Sai Prakash Hotel, please.
DRIVER: Where sir?
ME: Station Rd.
DRIVER: Station Rd?
ME: Yes. Sai Prakash hotel, Station Rd.
DRIVER: Hotel closed sir.
ME: No it isn't.
DRIVER: Yes sir.
ME: No it isn't. I spoke to them yesterday. Sai Prakash Hotel, please. Station Rd.
DRIVER: SAi Prakash?
ME: Yes. Station Rd.
DRIVER: Sai Residency?
ME: No. Sai Prakash.
DRIVER: You go here sir. Very nice (proffers card for MEENA HOTEL).
ME: No thank you. Sai Prakash.
DRIVER: No Sai Prakash.
ME: Yes there is.
DRIVER: No. Meena, sir.
ME: No. Sai Prakash. If you don't want to take me to Sai Prakash you can let me off here.

I had expected this in Agra or Delhi but not Hyderabad. I was too tired to get angry or frightened and just hung on like a stuck record. The guy made a huge show of driving down wrong streets and asking for directions and trying to leave me outside dives so I eventually said 'Take me to the station', which he did. I then got out and started walking to where I thought Sai Prakash was. He then reappeared looking craven and apologised, offering to take me there. And so he did. And thank God he did cos I would never have found it. He was very young and helped me with my stuff into the Hotel.

Sai Prakash was a bit bleak. It was comfortable, indeed luxurious enough and there was no poo anywhere but it was very 70s, monolithic, made of marble and dimly lit. When I got to the restaurant, which is similarly styled, the worst music in the world was playing. If I have to hear BARBIE WORLD by Aqua or MACARENA again (I have a sneaking suspicion they are putting it on for me when I come in) I will probably explode and become the incredible hulk. Meanwhile my room, the bathroom of which took some getting used to (comedy toilet flush, non-turnoffable taps etc), had a splendid view of a yellow concrete wall, rather like the scene in the Matrix where they get trapped by the Agents and can't get out through the windows (sorry it was on telly the other day in one of my hotels. Still fresh in my mind). I was tired and still feeling wonky after my illness, so feeling a bit mis and cut off from the energy of Puttapharty and Tamil Nadu, went to bed.

Watching Hyderabad from the rickshaw was miserable too. It seemed like a grey, dirty, depressing city with little to raise the spirits. Two days of it did little to improve this impression. Think of Birmingham without the charm, or Coventry without the period chic. Its vibe is completely different from anywhere else I have been in India. Instead of vibrancy or madness, there was just misery, or so it felt. Its primarily a Muslim city, so doesn't really feel like India at all, more somewhere Middle Eastern. There is poverty again, but its different to the other cities I have seen. And the people seem or seemed less friendly, more taciturn and hostile.

Maybe this was just me. I was feeling the lack, as I say, of the energy and vitality of what had come before, the spiritual connection etc. I still haven't learnt how to transcend my surroundings, but let myself off because these surroundings were pretty glum. Thank God I stuck with it though, because it yielded up its secrets, although not without looking!

There are two reasons why I am here. One because its where my Grandparents were stationed for part of their time in India (well, near here, anyway), two because before I came out I was supposed to be teaching in a Steiner School in the city for a month thanks to the sister of my friend Shobna Gulati, Hema, who works out here. That plan never really materialised, but I decided to come anyway to meet Hema and see the schools. Hema met me with her husband, Proful, on my first evening and we went out for a lovely Chinese meal. Funnily enough, just as the Indian and Chinese food we eat in the UK isn't Indian or Chinese but catered to our tastes, nor is Chinese food in India. Its basically Indian Chinese food, but nice anyway. It was good to have a change. It was the first time I have eaten meat out here in ages (necessity has forced me into being a virtual veggie and teatotaller during my time here, which is going to be interesting when I get home because I have felt so much better for it) and was a good change. We all hit it off and Proful and I got into a lively conversation about India and its history.

Its election time here and Proful explained to me the problems with democracy in India now - how its all about Coalition Governments and so nothing gets done, how corruption is rife, with politicians buying votes with beer and food and how Police are now everywhere to try and enforce fair play (as he said this we saw a squad of uniformed soldiers file past the car with sticks. Didn't look very reassuring to me.). He also spoke about the relationship between the Muslims and the Hindus in the past, how there couldn't have been two more contrasting religions in one place - one harsh and disciplined, the other celebratory and chaotic. We talked about the contrast between the greatest of the Moghul Emperors, Akbar the Great, who instigated religious tolerance throughout his Kingdom and tried to create a new religion which synthesised every other and the original fundamentalist (as Proful put it), Aurangzeb, who suppressed everyone who wasn't Muslim and left the scars
which still cause trouble between the communities today. As we drove past the enormous artificial lake which is at the heart of Hyderabad and viewed the enormous Buddha statue in its middle, he explained how the Mayor who had sponsored it was not so much honouring the Buddhists as sticking one to the Hindus by not chosing a Hindu God for it, after which we drove past a trophy tank from one of India's wars with Pakistan, making one muse upon intercommunal relations in the region...

It is fascinating being in a predominantly Muslim city in India. The energy IS completely different, as I said earlier during my stay here. It confirms, for me, how a culture or religion shapes peoples' Consciousness for better and for worse. We are all effected by it. We in the West are as defined by our Christian history as anyone else. I don't say its good or bad, just fascinating and rather wonderful to breathe in a different atmposphere. But the sensation of not being in India remained...

The next day Hema took me to the Steiner Schools. A novice driver who seemed never to have ever come to Hyderabad meant that we arrived very late for the first one and had to skip the second. I have always been interested in Steiner but find him hard to read so visiting a school was exciting for me. I saw two, one outside the city, the other in the centre. The first was for ordinary kids, the second was for special needs kids. Both were very small, the first still under construction. I was struck by the quiet focus and discipline of the children, their maturity and the crackling intellects and energy of the teachers. It lacked the warmth and sheer delight of the Children's Project but was very impressive. The second school moved me almost to tears. I was put in a room with a group of young boys all suffering from different disabilities while the teachers, with infinite tenderness and patience, took them through a performance for me. It was heartbreakingly moving, not just the commitment of the teachers but the purity and simplicity of the children. I had never really been among Special Needs children before and I realised then the immense dedication it involves from the teachers and the immeasurable importance it has for the kids who would otherwise be left to fend for themselves (especially in India). All of this was in keeping with Steiner's belief that although the body may be impaired, the Soul and Spirit is not and deserves every opportunity to grow and experience as much as anyone else.

I really liked Hema who was incredibly generous to me and enjoyed sparring with Proful who was lively and fun to be with. But Hyderabad was getting me down. I was missing the magic of everything else I had experienced. Nevertheless, I was determined to make the best of it and set off for the Salar Jung Museum which the Rough Guide describes as 'unmissable'. And so it was. Although the drive through Hyderabad was unnourishing to say the least, the Museum is incredible. A huge complex with treasures from all over the world - from Ancient Egypt to Napoleonic Frane and England - and artefacts from Buddhist, Hindu and Christian cultures, it was a wealth of sensory experiences. I was particularly drawn, again, to the Jain sculptures which were of a simplicity and unfamiliarity that I couldn't help standing in front of them for a while. There were three images of Mahavira, all of which made the Buddha look like an egomaniacal exhibitionist poseur. In keeping with the pure Jain ideals, he just stands there, still and naked, with his arms dropping either side, smiling simply at you. Its humanity at its easiest and most uncomplex. In one image, an enormous snake, symbolising all the earthly cares which bind us, was unravelling around him, enabling him to stand free. I discovered that Mahavira did not believe, as Buddha did, that one sought Liberation from this world in Oblivion/Nirvana but that everything had a Soul (Jiva) which was Divine and potentially God-like. The aim of the Jain is to release that Soul so it may become fully divine. Delusional or not, its a beautiful idea.

Salar Jung lifted my spirits a bit, but the battle with the Hyderabad Blues didn't pass until the next day. Demoralised by the bleakness of the streets and endlessly having to deal with dodgy rickshaw drivers (made harder by still being a bit ill) I hired a car for a day and set out to the famous Golconda Fort. It was amazing. My Grandmother had recommended I go and she was right. The Fort, which was the seat of the Qutb Shah dynasty which ran Hyderabad until Aurangzeb ended an eight-year seige there thanks to a traitor opening the gates one night, it is a vast, ruined complex of walls, halls, mosques, gardens and palatial chambers atop a huge rock formation. I spent the whole morning clambering around it, taking shots and experiencing, once again, the strangely un-Indian atmosphere of the place. I was struck by how India had been host to the Muslims/Moghuls for several centuries before being invaded by the British and had only been in charge of its own affairs for 60 years or so since Independence. Some leeway can be given for its many social problems, perhaps. In many ways, India is still searching for who it is - Hindu, secular, Western, Eastern? Maybe this search is what makes it so special.

Golconda was followed by the awesome Tomb complex nearby, where all the Qutb Shahs are buried. There are 82, apparently, and I couldn't see them all, but wandering around their maginficent splendour and vast onion-domes was a pleasure. The function of a building always defines its atmosphere. The Fort was so clearly a place of war and luxury, this was a bridging place of the living and the dead. I was struck by the contrast between the Mosques I was seeing and the Temples I had seen in Tamil Nadu... But more on this later.

All this lifted me, but it wasn't until I went to see the Charminar, Hyderabad's most defining monument, that the awe-inspiring sense of wonder that I have come to associate with India returned. Quite simply, it is utterly beautiful, a four-towered triumphal arch in the midst of Hyderabad's overwhelmingly alive and bustling Old City, which transports you right back into a time when this city must have been on of the glories of India. Markets are everywhere in this country, but this is something else. Utterly Muslim in character, one feels one is in the Middle East or Jerusalem or lost in the Arabian Nights. Colour, sound, character... A dwarf selling trinkets, a guy with warped legs chasing after you down the street with a big smile on his face hoping for rupees...

I got out of the car and entered the Charminar. At first I just stood beneath it and just looked at the incredible energy around me. Then I climbed the narrow stairs and looked out over Hyderabad. Suddenly what had seemed ugly appeared filled with minarets and columns, bursting with life in all its abundance. As I had done in Thanjavur, I found myself slipping back in time, blanking out the traffic and rickshaws and imagining what it must have been like centuries ago. Totally spellbinding.

From the Charminar's heights I could see the Mecca Masjid, one of the largest Mosques in the world, so called because it has red stones brought from Mecca embossed in it. Its a mighty building. I went down and made my way across the traffic inside.

I was taken round by a guide and fleeced by various Mosque authorities for 'donations' but who cares? It was fascinating to wander around the complex, walk in the Mosque and wonder at the majesty of this bygone age.

And so Hyderabad took me somewhere else, deep into the Islamic heart of this country. The flavour was, as I say, completely different to elsewhere in India. Perhaps when I have some perspective I will be able to explain why. I didn't like the endless women in black wandering around - and aspect of Islam which is a dealbreaker for me - but I could not help acknowledging that when the real pulse of energy was flowing through this culture it was a great one.

I was also struck by how Western it was. We Judeo-Christians like to think of Islam as 'the Other' and historically we have been foes, but its architecture, its physical expression in the landscape has everything in common with us and little or nothing in common with Hinduism or any other Eastern spirituality. I was struck by how monolithic and austere the Mosque and its surrounding buildings were in contrast to the openness and 'connectedness' of the Hindu and Buddhist Temples I had seen. Fascinating.

We are all living in the ruins, the echoes of these spiritualities now. All the world's religions had their high water marks a while ago and left huge impressions and imprints on the world and our inner landscapes which we now only partially understand. There is splendour in them and Mysteries we still need to remember, honour and understand, but I don't know if we can ever revive them as they were. Perhaps our problem is that we have grown out of or rejected them but we haven't replaced them with anything other than materialism and if we are honest with ourselves, it is that abject, all-consuming materialism which has brought us to the crisis we are in today. Religion didn't cause global warming or the nuclear bomb, what came after did.

So what do we do? As I say, I don't think we can turn the clock back, but perhaps we can carry what was special within what was and transmute it into something else...? Something more life giving which can revive in us a sense of purpose and value and splendour in our own lives and those of others?

I don't know. All I know is that as I approach the last few weeks of my time here being immersed in all this is incredibly enriching. I thank my stars I have had the chance. And well done Hyderabad for turning itself round!

Tomorrow, very early, I head off to Agra and the Taj Mahal, where my Grandparents fell in love and of which I had an unforgettable dream before I left the Royal Exchange. Let us see what happens.

Bon voyage!