Old Delhi laneways

Out on the roads of Old Delhi, the auto rickshaw beside me is crammed with cubic packages, hand-sewn into neat white bundles. Two young blokes come thundering past on a new Royal Enfield. A cycle rickshaw is piled high with stuffed hessian sacks and rolled pages, an older man walking beside it, pushing.

But then we leave these roads and duck into the alleyways of Old Delhi and the day becomes more intense. Sometimes 2m wide, they are packed full of people, rickshaws and motorbikes honking through them. A big wooden trolley cuts a solid swathe.

The shops are a parade of jewellery, saris and wedding dresses in one area, then incense and religious statues, then food, and then spices.

People sit in front on plastic chairs, or perch on wooden stools or lean against walls. Two men are deep in conversation, sitting sideways on the same Royal Enfield motorbike.

Dogs find undisturbed repose.

And it all happens under the unfathomable (to me) and somewhat ominous black tangle of overhead electricity wires.

And then we burst back out into the streets of Old Delhi, which now feel so much more spacious, with their planted medians and sidewalks. Perceptions change.

OLD DELHI

While New Delhi generally refers to the planned part of this city built under British rule, Old Delhi, particularly round the Chandni Chowk market area, was built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in the 17th century. It was originally called Shahjahanabad. Shah Jahan was interested in town and social planning, and architecture.

It was originally designed with canals, which he thought would reflect the moonlight pleasantly — and, in particular a central canal running through it, which has been consumed by the narrow lanes.

There have been traders in some of these for hundreds of years. But more than just places of trade, this is a place of strong community and traditions — of life running as thick and warm as blood.

And one final part of Old Delhi’s story strikes me hard. In 1947, when India became independent again, it was partitioned into two separate States — one predominantly Hindu and the other predominantly Muslim, which are today’s Pakistan and Bangladesh.

It was a violent and destructive period.

But in Old Delhi, where people freely show religious and cultural identities, I glimpse through a window into pre-partition India and its complex multicultural past.

Many of the shops are full of all that’s needed for the elaborate and important rituals of Hindu weddings.

And yet, still today, the mesaharartis still rise at all hours to give their high-pitched wake-up calls around Old Delhi’s laneways.

They will call Muslims to prayer like this, particularly during Ramadan, in a tradition dating back at least 600 years.