We had three sweltering days in the heavy pollution and raw
humanity of Delhi. We bought some bright kurtas, ate South Indian
dosas, made some new friends, got a new pair of prescription spectcals
(Indian spelling) and calmly meditated in the Buddhist gallery of the
National museum where there are 22 substantial Buddha relics enshrined
in a golden stupa. I found time to write this sitting in a cool cafe
sipping lime soda and chilling out after a hectic dip into the crazy
heart of Old Delhi. In the midst of the endless markets, hundreds of
stalls selling watches, dogs resting in the shade, rickshaws, busses,
and sugar cane juicers we came upon the Jama Masjid- holy mosque and
welcome haven. Immediately I got in an argument with the guys at the
desk who searched every last corner of my bag hunting for my mobile
phone which they triumphantly tried to charge me 200 rupees for crying
"Phone camera. phone camera". As I refused to pay I wondered if they
were going to kick me out. One guy was pushing me away when the boss
nodded us through, only to reach the next humiliation- a floor length
nylon pink spotted robe which was aggressively wrapped around my
perfectly respectable trousers and shirt. Once inside I saw they
single out all westerners for this embarrassing treatment. And of
course I couldn't even take a photo after the scene about phone
camera! Despite all the hassle it was worth the experience of
wandering across the vast courtyard, imagining it full of devotion for
with everyone facing Mecca. The central "shrine" seemed very plain- a
niche in the wall, with a few inscriptions in Arabic. Two wall clocks
both stood at 3.15, and a few guys occupied the prayer mat shaped
sections of the floor. We also saw a group of brightly clad women out
on the far left also engaged in prayer and determinedly doing their
prostrations despite their age.
