Delhi

A famous 4th generation family owned restaurant

“I was told by one of the tourists that India was indeed a truly wonderful country with many remarkable traditions, and would be just fine and perfect if one did not constantly have to eat Indian food.”  Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie 1981

Most landscapes about which I have written have either bent mankind to their wills or man has accommodated himself with extreme climate or topography with both live harmoniously together. Delhi, on the other hand, has been pummelled, used and is now abused.

Dust, noise, heat, colour, smells, spices, smoke, cars, bicycles, rickshaws, lorries and many peoples, oh so many peoples. Delhi’s streets assault the senses. Too many cars, too many animals, too many peoples. Poor peoples, peoples without jobs, peoples without education. Yet happy peoples – confident and busy, flowing here, dashing there. Saris of brilliant hues adorn the women. Children smile at strangers and shout, “How are you? How are you?” Cows amongst the cars, cows sat at the traffic lights, human detritus is all around. 

Stepping off an aeroplane in Delhi we were greeted with a warm, smoky and dusty smell. The sky was burnt umber over pale blue. Delhi has a smog problem, amongst the worst on the planet. Eastwards farmers burn their crop stubble and the smoke drifts over the city. Delhi has a traffic problem. Our short car journey from the airport to Defence Colony in New Delhi took an age. Since 2008 (the Global Crash largely left Indians unaffected and they had more access to cheap money) the newly ‘well off’ bought a car or a motorbike – a first material possession to advertise their wealth which in reality is paltry by European standards. These merely add to the pollution and seal the filth to the tarmac.

Where's the city?

Don't miss the train

Delhi’s population of 28 million lives in only a few hundred square miles. 20 million are permanent residents; 8 million are itinerants looking for work. Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Jains, Zoroastrians, Christians and Buddhists; so many faiths are practised here. India is a religious country and Delhi is the most crowded urban agglomeration in the country. Yet the peoples of all faiths appear to rub along together without difficulty. But do they? How long will this last? Increasing numbers of Hindus are suspicious of Muslims; some Muslims sneer at Hindus. Millions of Delhi men are employed in small businesses (you will not see many women working in the markets and bazaars), more would-be workers arrive every month. Mechanisation in fundamental activities such as cleaning, gardening and transport is largely absent. If modern developments in technology arrive with similar job-eradicating effects as in the West an economic and humanitarian disaster surely awaits.

But the food? Ah yes, the food. Visitors must sample the food to get an idea of what the people of Delhi are about and what made this city so exotic and captivating to Europeans. Food is plentiful, food is fresh, even the poor eat newly prepared meals every day. There are no supermarkets here stocking processed food and packaged meals. The food is rich with vegetables, mutton, butter, yoghurt, saffron, cardamom and coriander all sourced from the adjacent land. Our Old Delhi food-walk with guide Akshaya in Chandni Chowk reveals narrow streets; sparklingly and colourfully dressed women shopping for spices and vegetables piled high in the tiny stalls; everywhere men working cross-legged at food stalls (few women work in this business); and even some Raj-era metal lamp posts forged in Birmingham. The pavements are covered with filth and emaciated dogs sniff at your legs but miraculously the food is safe to eat.

Old and New Delhi is made up of six former ancient cities. Observing the poor and the beggars on the streets it is difficult to avoid asking why this city is so congested and why Delhi is how it is today when most citizens of London and Los Angeles – similarly aggregated and congested cities – have a much higher level of wealth. Technology is  why there is a chasm between the fortunes of Delhi and the others. In 1218 Delhi lay in a wealthy state. Invading Muslim warlords found temples rich with treasures; this at a time when the Magna Carta had just been signed and London was only just gaining power. Qutbuddin Aibak, one such invader, went on to found grand, rich Muslim dynasties which yielded the Delhi Sultanate.

In 1857 during the Indian Mutiny Bahadur Shah II, the last of the Mughals, witnessed his countrymen massacred as the British lay siege to the city held by the native population. Great bloodshed was followed with typical British jingoism celebrating the valour of Sir John Lawrence but really this was a pitiful episode in the city’s history. Delhi has had the misfortune to be at a geographical crossroads for warriors, traders, politicians and drug smugglers. In 1911 the British decided to move the capital from Calcutta to Delhi. Edwin Lutyens, (a famous English architect whose work I admire – see Lindisfarne and Thiepval - was invited to design a new government centre and complex of buildings. 

The resultant Rashtrapati Bhavan, Mall-like Rajpath and India Gate stamped British ownership of the land. Here for all to see is an implicit collision between the Mughal and British empires. The natives’ landscape of Delhi was one of the most abused in the world.

Lutyens' Central Secretariat

In the shadow of the reminders of The Raj and remnants of the greatest empire in history it is monstrous that in 2018 over five million Delhi inhabitants live in slums. Half a billion people in India live in extreme poverty. Nearly a quarter of the city's inhabitants still defecate in the streets. The sacred cows defecate in the streets. Scabby and flea-ridden dogs defecate in the street. A basic level of education for many of the peoples has gone missing.

Whilst British news coverage of the Middle Eastern geopolitical landscape is constant (Muslims, Christians, Kurds, Turks, Russians and Americans are fighting over a barren landscape that represents far more than the sandy soils and absence of agronomy), coverage of politics, religious differences and cultural conflict in swarming Delhi is almost completely absent. They are there, though, simmering under the exterior veneer of a teeming society. Hindus and Muslims clashed in 1947 when thousands of Indians died. The landscape of India was partitioned and many peoples suffered. Resentment lingers on. Today hoardings in Delhi advertise the wares of Western companies such as Apple’s iPhones. Yet iPhones are responsible for conveying images of religious fanaticism across the Arabian Sea in Iran and Syria. It is inconceivable that amongst the constricted peoples of Delhi there will not eventually be another uprising. A responsible middle class, that may have developed the city, has failed to materialise in strength. Religious tolerance will run out; education for the poor will be demanded. Perversely, technology will make things worse as it will lead to an increase in unemployment. Unemployment foments acrimony; acrimony incites war.

Guarding against another war?