Aaj Rang Hai

Ghulam Hussain Niazi and party performed on the 7th of March at Chaunsath Khamba, Hazrat Nizamuddin Basti, to a mixed audience from eight to eighty year olds. Jashn-e-Khusrau celebrates the sufiana kalaam (mystical poetry of Islam) of Amir Khusrau (1253 - 1325).

The forecourt of Chaunsath Khamba, a 17th century Mughal Tomb, bathed in a hue of yellow stood witness to the redention of qawwalis for 3 nights by some of the biggest names in Qawwali world.

The mehfil ended in the very popular Chhap Tilak and finally Aaj Rang Hai.

The fest picks up on 10th and runs till 14th so you can still catch on some poetry reading, walks, talks, film screenings and qawwali performances. Details can be seen by downloading the festival brouchure. (Rapidshare link)

An Evening in Old Delhi

I had been thinking about going to Old Delhi for quite some time now. Having read so much about the Iftar celebrations in the walled city area, when muslims pray , break the roza and go onto consume delicacies, I certainly wanted to experience it. So a good friend P, who shares an equal (if not more) enthusiasm for food, and I headed to spend an evening in Old Delhi on Sunday.

The roza is the fasting during the holy month of Ramadan when devout muslims observe daylong fast from dawn to dusk, without even a drop of water. A small breakfast before sunrise which is known as Sehari and a feast after sunset, known as Iftari.
The road outside the Gate No 1 of Jama Masjid was jam-packed. Vehicles, mostly rickshaws, were lined bumper to bumper. A vast multitude of people here, heading off with their families to shop and eat. We deftly make way to Karim hotel and wait for our turn to be seated. Over here one can see variety of people. Foreign tourists digging into kababs and tikkas after thoroughly examining them, families of people enjoying the elaborate and lavish meal after the roza, young people out there to grab a bite, waiters running in loaded with dishes. The crowd was heterogeneous, the service quick and the food Y-U-M-M-Y.
On the streets it's a party of sorts and people have come out to enjoy. Mounds of sevaiyaan and other sweets, dry fruits, footwear, clothes, bangles and a whole lot of things.
The 100 watt bulbs bathing the shops in a yellow hue. Shoppers bargaining with the shopkeepers over the price of their purchases. Happy smiling faces, twinkling eyes behind the hijab, its all happening here. The area seems like a bouquet of vibrant colours, sound and flavors.
After Karims it was Rabri at the roadside Kallan Sweet Shop where I tried my hand (unsuccessfully) at reading the urdu written on the board, much to the amusement of the shopkeeper as well as P.
Thereafter We headed for the Paranthewali Gali. The shops here are from an era of the badshahs and rajas, well before last century, being run by the 4th – 5th generation of owners. Each of the shop here must have around 20-25 variety of paranthas. We sampled the Matar parantha and Paneer paranth which were good. The paranthas are accompanied by aloo sabzi, seetafal sabzi, couple of chutneys, pickles and greenchillies. With modest prices and seating arrangements these shops are trying to lure the people into their establishments.

Colorful skullcaps with ornate embroidery and exciting design patterns.

To most, Old Delhi may be a down market wholesale bazaar. However the erstwhile city of Shahjahanabad was once the epicenter of Hindustan. To some it still is!

A young shopper bargaining with the shopkeeper for a pair of shoes.

The Homecoming

 I am still coming to terms with being back in India. I wonder how this short stint of 2 years has made me become so unaccustomed with the things around here. Sometimes to the point of embarrassment, when I tell people it’s very hot in here. Sounds too NRIsh. Anyways, since the airlines in Europe allow only 20kg luggage per person, I had to leave back a lot of stuff in Denmark. The first thing I did after landing in India was to go and buy myself slippers the next day. I headed to Paharganj. Took a rickshaw to ‘Cheh Tooti Chowk’ which cost 10 rupees. Indian economy is booming and the rickshaw-walas are also entitled to their fair share.

After the purchase of the slippers I couldn’t resist from visiting my fav jalebi shop which is at ‘Cheh Tooti Chowk’. For all you people, who love those thick succulent heavy jalebis with the sugar syrup dripping down and like to have them hot out of the wok, this is the place for you. So I head over to the two jalebi shops side by side and ask for 250 gms of jalebis. I note that the rate is Rs 50/- per kg from Rs 40/- last year. People keeping abreast with the growing economy - I smile to myself. Those two shops have been there since forever. They don’t have names but ask anyone and he will guide you to these shops. I remember the face of the cashier who also weighs the sweets n hands them out to the customers, but the rest of the people have changed. And even though it may be new faces, the person behind the wok will again be wearing the trademark baniyan.
Img: http://www.indiamike.com/photopost/showphoto.php/photo/10209/cat/500/ppuser/627
As I dig my teeth into the first jalebi I see a Chinese/Korean/Japanese tourist stop and take pictures of the jalebiwalas with an expensive looking SLR. The batter being poured in perfect shape as the imartis are being made. It’s an art, the way the batter filled cloth is squeezed, the pattern emerges in the oil. Like the hands of some artist, the jalebiwalas hands move in constant, precise and calculated manner. He doesn’t have time to pose for pics. His job doesn’t offer him the luxury of making mistakes as not many people will be eager to eat a deformed imarti. People will buy a deformed piece of art more readily though.

Moving on from the Oriental tourist, I scan the area and see many more tourists. Paharganj is a fav amongst backpackers. You will find loads of them here at all times. Though all guidebooks recommend traveling to India from Oct – March, these people are here in the peak summer months and that too in Delhi. The temperature doesn’t offer them any respite. I hoped to see some Danish guys around, but there weren’t any. Don’t get me wrong, Danes are very fond of vacations and 3 weeks of vacation in summer and later in winter is a norm in the offices. But India doesn’t seem to be a fav destination as I came across very few people in Denmark who had visited India.

A young Caucasian lady is buying bangles at a shop, those big lac bangles. Another Caucasian couple is being led by a travel guide who tells them that he’s a student and does this as a part time job. An oriental couple with a map, trying to locate the New Delhi Railway Station perhaps. As I capture all these things happening in my surroundings I feel connected to these people in a strange way. Not long ago I was also in a similar position traveling in some country, where I was only for a small time. I had also roamed on the streets with a map in my hand. I was also buying souvenirs and sometimes cursing the weather.

The market offers these people what they want - Cheap accommodation, economical meals, travel agents, transport, communication, mineral water, toilet paper and a good amount of Indian culture.

Too much for my first day in India. I head home with my new slippers.