The Golden Temple

This is why I came here, the iridescent Golden Temple which stands reverently in the centre of a sacred pool. The holiest shrine in the Sikh faith and mecca for thousands. I arrived at the gate in a teeming swarm of turban clad pilgrims, prepared to be disappointed. I was not. Although smaller than I'd imagined, the glimmering shimmering temple literally took my breath away.

About to enter The Golden Temple at Amritsar (Sikh)

photo does not do the temple justice - it is breathtakingly beautiful

It sparkles luminescent above the water

As long as the head is covered and feet are bathed on entry everyone is free to wander around at will, entranced by the luminescent complex with its golden heart seemingly hovering over the clear blue/ green ' nectar of immortality' lake.

No visit is complete without sitting down for a free meal (dal roti, sweet rice and, um, holy water from the pool. Which I sipped merrily before I realised it was untreated h2o from waters where carp drift gently in the shallows and pilgrims bath! Gulp.. Literally. So far no food poisoning... Yet.

Thousands of meals are served 24 hours a day, a symbolic manifestation of belief and a very impressive organisation. There is a real kindness here, a genuine welcome to one and all, with no security, no fees, just open doors to open people’s hearts.

Massive kitchen feeding the faithful

I was fortunate to have two 'guides' to this religion. First an English chap staying at the same hostel who initiated me into the baptism of fire which is getting in/out  to the temple. Cheap places like mine are out in the ' new' city rather than the historic temple area and are in the usual maze of tiny dark alleys with no names haunted by lurking rickshaw drivers whose mission is to take you everywhere bar where you want to go, especially shops. I was grateful for advice on the inaugural run!

Nes, a Punjab by birth, also taught me the social and cultural etiquette of Sikhism and then took me to lunch to taste the famous Amritsar 'breads 'lathered with ghee, too fatty for my taste.

Then after he’d left and I took my place in the queue to see inside the sparkling three storey jewel encrusted palace where the Granth, the Sikhs holy book, is ceremoniously brought each night, I was joined by another English Punjabi, a university student from Birmingham and a deeply devout Sikh, who explained in detail his faith, his belief, the symbolism of the orange conjoined flags (saint and sinner) and intricate details of every corner of this glorious site.

At the memorial

Selfie at The Golden Temple

The temple, like the Sikh faith, is relatively recent, dating from 1776, with the golden dome said to gilded with 750kgs of real gold. Which I can believe.  It is truly beautiful, the marble inlay below with its colourful flower and animal motifs perfectly maintained.

Sikh traditional dress

I was lucky, I only waited an hour to go over the causeway to the inner sanctum. On Saturday, the Sikh new year, the queue stretched for five hours. Inside was wonderful both in splendour and in a deep prevailing sense of spirituality.  I emerged with head and heart full. As night fell I sat by the waters gazing in awe at the view and feeling genuinely at peace in this amazing place.

Temple lit up at night

Amritsar

The Punjab is chilly!! Twenty degrees when I arrived this afternoon, I nearly had to don my thermal vest. Amritsar has long been on my wish list but today there was no time to visit the famous golden temple, the Sikh heart of this city.

Instead I contented myself with a Hindu temple recommended by my host here who described it as 'like going to the fair.'   This over the top gaudy beyond gaudy construction was built to resemble the pilgrimage to its namesake in Kashmir, so visitors crawl under plastic rocks, paddle in man made streams, climb facsimile rock faces, all bathed in the glow of thousands of coloured glass pieces as if walking in a circus hall of mirrors.

Her Holiness to whom the temple is dedicated complete with her favourite blanket

The finer details defeat me but here is the gist

Bemused in a hall of mirrors at the fairground moment

The gods illuminated along the way had to be the most bizarre I have seen so far. Monkey gods, elephant gods, so far so familiar,  even rude faces and child-like imagery but this temple took it to extremes.

Monkey God, looking fed up

yes - that is a christmas tree in the corner complete with baubles!

Temple deities

Odd deities

Outside - summoning the faithful with a loudhailer!

Not the Amritsar of my imagination but the Sikh Golden temple, my reason for being here, is too major a visit for a late afternoon trip, and this Hindu temple certainly gave me an amusing few hours!

A great day with friends

A wry smile at breakfast led to a great day as I bonded with an American professor and his charming wife over our mutual dislike of soggy ' omelettes' . This first chance glance was a serendipitous one as I discovered a similar age couple with shared interests, backgrounds, family, etc and enjoyed a delightful day in their good company.

Thanks also to their expense budget I traveled in the relative comfort of a tuk tuk rather than the crowded metro and ...I had my first cappuccino since leaving England on Jan 7th. Real coffee!! In the comfort of an upmarket restaurant rather than standing at a street stall. At one pound fifty it seemed so extravagant, how will I ever get used to prices back home. Oh but the caffeine hit was wonderful!

Together we escaped the city streets for the massive Humayun's tomb complex, second only to the Red Fort in Delhi's majestic past. This 16th century Emperor had an unlucky life, exiled in Persia and then dying by falling down the stairs soon after finishing his elaborate palace, transforming its use into a mausoleum for his white marble tomb.

Humayun of the superb tomb

The marble tomb in solitary splendor . A chamber adorned with delicate filigree doors, embellished arches and inlaid domed ceiling 

The huge garden tomb of the 16th century mutual emperor Huyamun

Looking down on the south gateway used by the mutual family during their reign. The complex was designed by an exiled Persian architect hence the strong Persian influences

This lovely couple and I then headed for Lodi Gardens and the site of another archeological monument, Safdarjung's tomb. The park was an oasis of glorious flower beds, green lawns (watered by cheap labour) and walled arbours where we sat and whiled away time chatting. I do not mind being alone but I struggle at times with loneliness, especially in places like Delhi where the mad world whirls around me as if I am invisible so being with like minded people discussing everything from politics to face cream was heaven.

Fountains powered by cheap labour

Mosques in the garden in a design divided into 4 parts in the Islamic concept of paradise.

Safdorjung's tomb in the fragrent Lodi gardens

Emotive Embelishment

Extra bonus: by sheer coincidence they leave tomorrow at the same time as me, though in their case for England to explore as they are about to embark on a years' posting in Norwich. So a) they are giving me a lift to the airport, bless them, which saves me a tenner and more importantly the task of organising the taxi and b) hopefully our friendship will be a lasting one.

I am bound for Amritsar, the Golden Temple awaits. Then on to Simla before returning once more to Delhi to shop.  Internal flights limit my purchases to bare essentials until I acquire an extra 15 kgs for the international homeward bound leg so when I'm next here it's not the sights I'll be visiting, it's the markets!

Delhi's insider secrets

Day three in Delhi and the discovery of secret surprises hidden behind the dangerous streets.  Archeological gems set in rose covered gardens,  tree clad ruins glinting in the sun illuminating traces of long ago eras.

Eschewing the tuktuk in favour of the metro once again I embarked on the 18 stop 18 rupee ride to Qutab Minar, a world heritage site complex in south Delhi with the magnificent 72 metre high tower at its heart.  Built in 1193 during the Muslim dynasty the five distinct storeys have been painstakingly restored. The spire can be seen for miles around, a signature Delhi landmark and the city's emblem.

Selfie at Qutab Minar

Qutab Minar ruins

The first mosque to be built in India lies at the base, the marble inlay and delicate stone carvings genuinely breathtaking. There are over 70 other monuments dotted around the lawns, including a 4th century iron pillar, the incomplete remnants remembering a far off time when this hillock ruled the land. A time when one Sultan was a woman. The past is not always backward.

Qutab Minar spire and Mosque

Could not resist this one!

Artistic shot of the tower

Most reach Qutab Minar by bus/tuktuk from the metro but I was determined to find the nearby Mehrauli archeological park, recommended by the trusty tourist office. It wasn't too hard, fending off the unwanted attentions of drivers was worse, and well worth tracking down. Acres of dusty fields behind the main highway with literally hundreds of more ruins where excavations have unearthed the villages/mosques/even the bazaar walls with their covered arches for stallholders from the 12th century as neighbourhoods sprung up to serve the Sultans.

A tomb in the park

Inside one of the deserted ruins in the park - Stunning

Hidden villages in the park

Splendid restored interiors

A bizarre mix of styles..apparantly the stonemasons were Hindi so there is much Hindu influence in the Muslim architecture

Although this is free, unlike the QM complex, it seemed virtually deserted, bar the odd security guard. One was very keen to show me the inside of a crumbling turret until, antenna quivering, I mentioned my husband was coming...when he departed in a hurry.
(Oh I long to be able to relax, but letting my guard down here can be, literally, fatal).

a rather moving unfinished tower by a sultan who died before the first tier had been completed!

But the park was absorbing and as the afternoon wore on I saw it was not deserted at all, courting couples, families, elderly groups, youngsters playing cricket, this was not just a memorial but a lively place where Delhi folk come to play.

The heat here is less oppressive than anywhere else I've been which is a boon. I no longer need to take shelter at noon. I do feel the need to don a precautionary (no doubt placebo) mask as the swine flu epidemic spreads across the country. It is not widespread yet in Delhi but cases rise by the day as does public paranoia.

Back in the city I joined the queue for a milkshake in a glass bottle at Keveners, a famous milk parlour tucked away in a back alley but a 'must do ' on food tours. Absolutely gorgeous!! I don’t normally like milkshakes but my coffee one was out of this world. This has to be a daily habit for as long as I’m here just as it is for locals, young and old.

The hostel and I have reached a pleasant equilibrium. I am now greeted with courtesy and respect, i.e. as if I was a man. My title helps but the main factor behind this about face was my use of Hindi when angry. This is a very popular place with Indian tourists and obviously I have now been accepted as one of the locals.  The attitude to British people is complex, I have met with clear resentment,  past injustices still linger close to the surface, but there is also a strong respect for our mutual history. And as a woman alone I am simply a mystery! ! I must be either unmarried or mad.

The gender bias is changing, powerful women here are outspoken and articulate, demanding men move from the ladies seats on the metro, holding their own in business and the media, but I sense it will take many more generations for true change. The debate over 'India's Daughter' by the BBC has shown just how deep rooted attitudes are and how carefully it is covered over. So if being treated as a man is what it takes then so be it, though I'd rather just be treated with respect as a woman.

Delhi is still a nightmare to function in but it is proving its worth, multidimensional multifaceted diamonds in the rough.

Delhi day 2

Breakfast gets worse, egg omlettes obviously cooked from a mix many hours earlier, veg cutlets far too spicy for English am taste buds ( though nice for lunch, I took a few for a picnic), bread as the toaster doesn't toast, and 'coffee' I'm sure is minus caffeine but so sweet my blood sugar level took off.

On the metro, now familiar with the Indian bureaucratic system of complex tickets and lengthy bag/person searches, complete with face mask. The country is in the grip of swine flu epidemic and swine flu panic. I'm trying not to worry as there’s not much I can do except take the usual precautions, but Delhi is so crowded and so filthy the usual procedures are impossible. Hand washing needs water...my hand sanitizer habit has given me eczema!

First stop: the Jain temple opposite the Red fort. Jains are yet another group I am very ignorant about, although I do know they believe all life is sacred, even insects. Leather as well as shoes have to be left at the door here. The attached bird hospital was rather sad. The birds were trapped in such tiny, tiny rusty wire cages I was not convinced. Good theory, bad practice.

Jain Bird hospital

Jain temples are intricately decorated, with gorgeous domed ceilings. The altar gods show a striking similarity to Buddhism.  My sense is that Hindu, Muslim, Jain, Sikh and Buddhist share the same allegiance to dharma, the belief that this life is a time to do good to achieve progress towards enlightenment. The Gods themselves (or not, in the case of Buddhism) define individual worship but the overall faith is universal.

From there a short fraught walk through Delhi’s crowds/traffic/roads under maintenance/ and I made it to Jama Mosque. The largest mosque in India, it was built in 1656, seats up to 20,000 people and has another of Delhi's tourist scams. 'They charge 300 rupees' an indignant visitor told me as I entered. I had been warned by the tourist office about this. The charge is for a camera, the mosque is free. I stood my ground at the gate and refused to pay. Ten minutes later when I was clearly not going to go away or give in I was finally let in.

Jama Mosque....

... from the outside

...and the 'backside'

The three majestic black and white marble domes are the most photogenic feature and can be seen from miles around. Inside is an open space with an inner hall decorated in marble and shady courtyards where I had my ‘picnic’.

Outside the Mosque lies a maze of bazaars and markets. Discretion won over thrift. I took a cycle rickshaw to Raj Ghat (he asked for 200, we settled on 50). Here is site of Mahatma Ghandi's cremation, a sacred pilgrimage for Indians. The well tended, fragrant gardens which surround the plinth and the unusually somber mood of those visiting made this a moving experience. Standing amongst the many from young to old with heads bowed in respect demonstrated the immense love of India for 'the father of the nation.'

by Raj Ghat , Ghandi shrine

I walked back through the green parkland dotted with shrines until the turrets of the Red Fort loomed into view. Following the ruby red outer walls led me back to the labyrinth that is Chandri Chowk. Fighting cheek by jowl with the world and his wife carrying their worldly goods I made it back on the Metro in the relative calmness of New Delhi.

The stunning Red Fort dominating Old Delhi 

Miles of Red walls

Delhi is a 24 hour city but I am content to watch from my high rise window as darkness sets. Fireworks go off every night, God (whoever she is) knows why, giving me free entertainment while I struggle to work the expensive and useless wifi and put off the moment where I find out yet again there is no hot water.

The monuments are impressive, a tribute to Delhi's past glories, but the present day is a mess. Modern buildings are half finished, roads are dug up for yet more promised Metro extensions, the infrastructure is creaking under the weight of too many people.

you see all sorts here!

As I climbed over yet another homeless family tonight I caught out of the corner of my eye a naked child sitting in the gutter happily building a sandcastle from filthy mud. He had painstakingly created a turreted model, singing away to himself, absorbed in his task until a sixth sense alerted him to my presence. Whereupon, instead of launching himself at me with cries of ' a hundred rupees please' as is usual, he simply gestured at his work and smiled with sheer joy.

A lesson in realising that much as I find Delhi a nightmare, with its constant noise, hassle, scams, dirt, crowds, filth, etc...How much worse for those who cannot shut the door on these hellish city streets.

Delhi. Day One

Delhi has had a bad press. Recently the banning here of the BBC documentary 'India's Daughter', the riots after the shock state election, the burning of Christian Schools, the notorious bribes offered to voters to change religion to Hindu (notices warning of fines if people do this are displayed on large hoardings )  have contributed to my nervousness about being here alone, not helped by the note of caution sounded by all the Indian women I have met on my trip.

Breakfast in the hostel from hell was not a good start to the day. Savoury wadis (fried doughnuts) with weak porridge, limp toast and jam and tea so sweet it was undrinkable, ugh. No wonder its the only thing which is free.

Venturing outside I found the nearby government tourist office where charming ladies plyed me with maps and advice, assuring me I would be fine in daylight. I left with newfound courage and descended into the Metro. Where I was met with friendly smiles and genuine courtesy, a young man gave up his seat immediately I boarded.

Alighting at Chandri Chowk I could see the towers of the Red Fort ahead. Fighting my way through the maze of alleys, bazaars and the bizarre sprinkling of MacDonalds, KFC, etc, I was distracted by the soaring golden domes of the Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib, a famous Sikh temple in Delhi built to honour the founder of Sikhism, Guru Nanak Dev ji about 540 years ago.  A religion which I know little about  it seems to be a complex mix of Hindu and Muslim based around the guru's teachings of 'all humans are equal'. The beautiful golden temple is a site of pilgrimage for Sikhs, about 2 % of India's population. The heaving mass of worshipers are joined by multitudes of the poor and destitute who haunt Delhi's streets, thanks to the free meals handed out daily by the faithful.

Inside the Sikh Temple

I avoided the free meals in favour of a MacDonald's ice cream purely to rest in a safe space. The crowds were daunting and I was scared!

Restored I made it through the gates of Delhi's number one tourist attraction, the Red Fort. I wasn't expecting much: I've seen a multitude of palaces, monuments and museums in India, but I was pleasantly surprised.

The Red Fort

The fort is huge, dating from 1638 and originally holding the Royal city of the Maharajas, and is stunningly similar in design to the Taj Mahal (designed by the same ruler, Emperor Shah Jahan,  when he moved his palace from Agra to Delhi.  The sandstone ruins enclose a vast site dotted with gardens and the remains of past glories. The rows of intricate arches glow red and the marble inlaid pillars glisten in the sun.

Surprisingly beautiful ruins of past glories

A once thriving Royal City, the Red Fort still glistens

Stunning Marble pillars

Inside the Red Fort

Several hours passed immersed in Maharaja history , courtesy of an excellent English audio guide. I was ashamed to see just how much damage the British army did to this magnificent site during their years of occupation in the 19th/20th century. There is currently a massive ongoing reconstruction project, thankfully, as this 'fort' deserves to be restored to its former glory.

I dodged and weaved my way through the early rush hour throng to get back before dark, this time managing to get onto the 'ladies only' carriage. Great fun: normally Indian women are subdued in public but in private they chatter like a flock of birds.
The sun was setting as I returned, day 1 in Delhi has been better than anticipated but I'm taking no risks.

 

Sunset from the window