The nuances- in personality and city.

               The following morning I headed to the Nizaamuddin's Dargah, the shrine of the most celebrated saint , in all of Delhi. The analysis of the precinct, was done to draw threads , of urban and architectural relationships and to what extent I could derive functional(or other) inspiration to re-work the Dargah of Sheikh Kaleemullah Khan within the the precinct. The complex of the dargah has a rhythmic and logical sequence of events leading to the main tomb. The entry into the zone of sanctity is clearly demarcated from the wide main roads of the Khan Market district. A large wall to the right, one that is the facade of a mosque, encloses a small plaza, one that caters to the large number of people entering and exiting the shrine as well as the mosque. To the opposite side of the facade stands three to four shops, selling articles pertaining and relevant to the prevalent religious culture.
              What I have to mention here is the guise. Just like the other days , I had dressed up wearing the Islamic white cap and my black kurta (customary North Indian clothing). My accent too was morphed, to adapt to the contextual versions of the language. Like I've mentioned before the more you can gel with people in Delhi, the better chance you have at understanding the qualities and discreteness in their culture. A walk along the different types of shops ,amidst a crowd of vendors , who always convince you to give donations for a meal,mendicants who keep tagging along reminding you of the economic disparity in India.

               The dargah of Sheikh Kaleemullah khan , is located within the precinct of the Jama Masjid and right opposite the Red Fort. The conditions of the complex and the pathway to the shrine was starkly insalubrious and one that would almost induce saturnine emotions. The main shrine , was surrounded by residential units , wit exposed bricks, and marked desolation. During my hours of sketching , I took quite a few strolls in and around this particular zone, one that has the usual cluster of buildings , amalgamated and vertically juxtaposed.The clutter in and around the saint's abode, was one that contradicted the sanctity that any place of such stature demanded. The diagramming logically segregated the multitude of functions , and yes it did have a few

                As I've already mentioned I went in my guise, but this was the time for improvisation. I took my deceptive methods of clothing to the next level, this time to study the foot-path culture, in the precinct of the shrine , as well as few immediate neighbourhoods. I scampered across to the nearest restroom complex, which was beside the mosque, which was again within the larger complex. A few minutes of un-combing my hair , and wearing an extremely faded kurta, did the trick and I was instantly camouflaged to a greater extent, that alone enabled a furthered interaction , questions about my religion ensued. I then went on, into the unwinding streets, and reached a doorway;
one that was carved, just like every other Islamic gateway, in the most intricate manner. One step , and you are almost instantly bedazzled; the variations , the immense differences I saw , in a very short walk , can instantly be compared to the societal disparities in the districts of Old Delhi; its almost like you are uncovering new urban transcripts every second, the reading changes every few minutes. This is what makes an urban study at a microscopic level essential in Delhi. Walking through , what could be called as another zone, a vast expanse of rich marble , and a sequence of delicately placed tombs and jali walls enclosing schools and the residences of Qawwals. (Qawwals are singers of religious hymns, once popular in the city , their presence has been restricted to a few named locations.)  The relationship gradually dropped to an architectural one, the coherence of spaces , and the craftsmanship of structure clearly outlined the precinct and awakened the soul; Exactly what architecture , or an urban insert should do !!! The space just felt right , I stepped in bowed down and offered my respects to the saint. Through the double layered system of walls, with the circum-ambulatory passage in between, the crux of the architectural detail is seen. Concealing what is meant to be arcane , and revealing what is meant to be ostentatious, the geometries derived and represented in Islamic architecture is astounding. The maintenance of the complex is credible; the devoutness and the austere veneration of the public towards the saint is clearly demonstrated through architecture. Gazing at the societal culture and drawing parallels to Jama Masjid , I sat , for about three hours or more on a step , looking into and outside the world of Hazrat Nizaamuddin Auliya. The dargah complex at our site , was the next programmatic derivative and the scenes I described above, are again a brief of a 2 day visit and a festive season analysis of the same place. The crowds and the qawwalis , in full flow,engender ebullience which lay hidden inside the layers of almost all kinds of society. The cultural unison is magnificent' the inclusiveness is unmatched. I will again abort a further elucidation on the Dargah , and move on to what marks a remarkable transition.
The following evening, I was to visit and study Connaught Place(CP, as it is famously abbreviated). Ofourse, the place has a certain sanguine mood to it. Apart from that the sophistication it brings along with it, in certain parts. I, was certainly not suited for that jaunt. I quickly changed my attire, all within a span of fifteen minutes, skipped and hopped , to catch the late evening metro to CP. In an hour, I morphed my guise, from one that was a simple un-sophisticated one, to one that breathed of affluence, a shirt from Van huessen , polished shoes and neatly ironed pants did the trick. Yet again I merged almost instantly with the crowd, hopping from one store to another. To do what?
What, sociologists and to a large extents architects do best. A few rounds in the circular arcade streets, reveal yet another transcript. A glaring feat of co-existence, of the 'survival of the fittest' is all summarized in a few blocks of complexes.
So, in a day what we actually observe is two sides of the same coin. The same society , with different mindsets, the same people , everywhere, yet the variety is impeccable. One cannot hope for a more diverse and intense study of architecture and urban design anywhere else, except in Delhi, or a few other places in India. The extent to which characteristics of urbanism and incredible coexistence can be spotted and studied in Delhi, is almost un-nerving and to a student doing his undergraduate thesis, it is and will be a challenge.

It was long and onerous....

The next day, I bid adieu to the family that took extremely good care of me , and set off again to study the same precinct , all my luggage loaded into an autorickshaw, the next part of my survey I was to stay with a family, in Noida. After a long ride from the western district of Delhi , Vikaspuri, I managed to reach the East End Apartments; a colony which boasts of a total population of about 4000 people.
A quick 20 minutes of throwing my baggage into the apartment, changing and rushing out. My previous experiences with the city taught me a story , one of disguise and its numerous advantages. There's always a hint , in any social scenario,of the particular traits they follow , in their guise, in their linguistic formalism and even in their every-day dialogues with people.

To be successful in a precinct like Jama Masjid , I used this very trick, a chicanery it seemed like , but one that was both onerous and necessary. I bought a kurta , and the shoes worn by the vast majority of the society here. My verbosity in Urdu ( the language used in the Jama Masjid and around 3-4ths of the city ) is one that is highly questionable. After spending a day streaming audio and video clips I grasped the accent and the tone of speech. Using these tools , helped me during my entire analysis; into even my second phase of the study ( which is the second trip I made for the site study).
Like I've already mentioned, being a multifaceted person , genuinely helps, us architects, and during an indepth analysis, there's nothing more helpful than combining the mapping, diagramming abilities with the skills mentioned above.



Moving on, the day consisted of yet another phase of mapping, this time, one street analysis again of the secondary lanes of Chandni Chowk , as well as the architectural chronology of the precinctual buildings. After spending a good three hours , studying the street , making notes of different structural anomalies, I came to one final conclusion regarding the street, and its relevance to my thesis.
The street is primarily characterised by history, and the loss of memories. Although , what struck me the most, was the layering and the disparity between these layers and the functional systems on different levels.It seemed to me like the precinct had developed what urban designers would call edges, but with a slight difference:

THE SHIVA AND THE JAIN TEMPLE SILHOUETTE - CHANDNI
CHOWK- Old Delhi, by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

Here, the edges were multiple and what we can call micro-edges, sometimes the disparity in the different observational facets was exaggerated to a few metres. What we see is a collision of such elements and its co-existence. As we stare at these multi-dimensional networks in amazement , we can only diagram them, and hope to use such elements in architectural re-creation. As already mentioned , the historical differences is one that should be noted as well. The street offers some fine detailing; of arcades, of brackets (columnar) , of pavements, and yet an almost imposed system of contemporary architecture is inserted sporadically. A gradual walk takes you through this sequence of events and we slowly develop the ability to compare this system of urban design with one that is just a few kilometres away, one that is touted to have incredible planning.Our minds start reading these gradations in history.We start painting pictures of the past and present, it is this exact collage which presents to us a final diagram, what students always strive for, and always get confused by. Ultimately the 'site-study' is just a clear set of diagrams which lay out, the storylines of a city.

Half the day was entirely spent on this very site, and it was at this very moment that I'd penned down what the Red Fort is , and left its analysis for the next day. I had an important appointment, one that would further my research and textual studies; I had to meet a reporter, an eminent one , with over 20 years of experience, and to me that was gold.

THE RED FORT PLAZA , by Shankr Roshan Valiathan

This was about the time when the cold had gotten to me , terrible headaches and high body temperatures had enervated me. But as the cliche goes;a  persistent mind pushed me to my limits. I was to travel to Noida, about an hours journey on the metro , from Old Delhi, i fought through crowds. The increased pedestrian density ,being due to elaborate protests in Delhi, over the gang rape of a college going student on a moving bus. The traffic routes changed and metro stations were closed owing to the intensity of protests near the city's center.
A long journey hanging on to the steel columns in the metro, finally saw me exit out of the station at Noida.
After confusion regarding the location of the news station and a few random walks, I set out finally in the right direction.

As I walked, alongside the compound walls of the university , I kept searching , I had walked around 8 kilometers, fighting the harsh winds of the open lands in that part of Noida, each step quite obviously
harder than the previous one, the extremities of the Delhi winter, catching up to me , palms , legs everything numb , head throbbing,  The office was still under construction ;
The bare concrete blocks , and in some places the reinforcements for the outer portions landscaping. The lifts were not yet done , so I walked , with every moment , anticipating a good end result, thinking to myself about the postive results a visit like this could have.
For the first half an hour I waited, patiently in a closed room , staring outside at neatly laid out roads, at the sun setting , the city's dusk. I took a small break , the intensity of my headache, furthered. I sneaked out of the room to the cafeteria , grabbing two cups of coffee, hoping for some relief. A few conversations with the waiters, a jolly young group, working at the cafeteria .
After a long wait in, I met the lead reporter; A long discussion, loads of notes, exchange of ideas, district cultures, in Delhi , and news reports specific to Old Delhi, all over a period of few hours; before I knew it was 830 pm , and calls to enquire about my whereabouts, began pouring in; ofcourse signals are blocked within the building , for security reasons. The in depth analysis , and reports furthered my ideation of the architectural program, and my understanding of the urban scenarios. I would not like to bore the readers with the further mundane experiences of the day, but the implications of the trip were great;
it led me on to further 'conquests' which finally gave me a cohesive set of data to work with.

Sketches from my book - of the Delhi metro-By Shankar Roshan Valiathan

The bare lands of Noida- Uttar Pradesh, India , by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

This is about the time I should warn my readers, that taking notes down became a little difficult management of time and weather became seemingly impossible during this first trip. During my days in Delhi , I tried organising and making schedules but the cold always manages to get the better of you. At the end of the day catching a minimum three hours sleep became my priority. I apologize for the discrepancy in time line for the remainder of the narrative.( For journey one)
The stories will although take a reader through specific events of a particular day, although anachronistic.

The next sequence of events describe the depressing site in front of the Jama Masjid. I remember rapidly running, evading the auto rickshaws, cycle rickshaws and jumping over heaps of garbage, and swaying to avoid being hit by goods vehicles.
The steps you take , seem like jumps, trying to evade piles of garbage or dirt; at all times , the monument's silhouette seen through the dried up trees, and heaps of dust .

But there are certain spots within the site , which have exhilarating views , all around , to one side , through the deciduous and lovely trees you can see the Red Fort while to the other side  you can see the mosque, one cannot explain the pulchritudinous sight of such monuments in words.

THE JAMA MASJID 'S NEIGHBOURHOOD AT 10:00am, (December last week), The beautiful gateway and the marble clad dome seen in the distance.
Picture taken by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

At each point you imbibe the smell , the malodorous and the ones with awesome scent, each one tells a story. I took my sketch book and entered the temporary shelters put up , to the north east of the Jama Masjid, and about 80 metres from the mosque, penning down notes , and standing in filth, I jotted down notes, and sketches of the method of construction, and the worries of the families, who were going to be evacuated from the site precinct. The surprising thing was that few of them were in complete agreement with it and infact wanted to move away, and restore the monumental precinct. The families were poverty ridden, as they famously say the poor and the destitute. These people made their living making clothes , selling handmade ( and stolen) toys. After spending about an hour asking different families , who live together under modular constructions of around 20 metres by 6 metres, I walked out, again into filth , this time my eyes caught hold of a small boy , leading a group of kids, ordering them around. I slowly moved toward the enthusiastic kid , to ask him about 'the neighbhourhood' he stays in. He replied curtly , saying "Bilkul bakwaas hain bhaiya"( Its completely useless)

Malodorous : The picture says it all;
By Shankar Roshan Valiathan 

With a consolatory smile , I let him continue with his game, and started pacing towards the main slum area. This one had a few anomalies to other slums. In terms of a micro- urban planning system within the neighbourhood, the slum had a few open spaces, which you cant call courtyards, these read as small ''breathing shafts"( thats the name I gave these open spaces). The patterns of the temporary and permanent structures within the slum , were quite haphazard, and extremely unsanitary. Sewage had become part of their lives, it seemed like. But for a person like me , who had not experienced such intense foul smelling environments for more than 2 hours, it was quite arduous. Audacious, as all Delhi-ites are, the owners soon started staring and moving in packs in my direction. By then I had ventured into the dingiest areas of the slum. It seemed like these was no end , although at every point, the mosque was visible, atleast portions of its sillhouette, stood out. After a few minutes of explaining my origins and where exactly I belong , I was given the freedom to interact with a small set of people. They again , explained their dire straits, and
also went on to explain the temporal activities within the site , and what precisely happens within the slum. This helped me gauge the conditions to an intricate level of detail , including the architectural history. I thanked them for their time, and scooted, to the main axis of Jama Masjid;
In many ways the precinct is a microcosm, a small universe where lives are scripted everyday by the public. The axial street leading to the mosque , is one which is filled with temporal bazaars and is a motley.

The ebullience of the people , and the rapidity of activity is one that sort of defines this linear space. But one look to the left , and you can see bare grounds. A park that is rarely used. A deserted place it seemed like , abutting a space exuding vibrancy. An immediate thought hits your mind;Why and how can you accommodate, history, socio-economic culture, convert desuetude to resourcefulness?

Metro construction at site.( Jama Masjid)
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

What function would actually remove the surfeits from the precinct? What can be economically and historically viable here?

Urdu Park , standing right beside the main axis.
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

My photographs , collages and dialogues, all transformed into a cohesive thought process. It was finally relieving, to derive something out of absolute chaos. Yes, art, and history never dies. One can try to demolish a place, but an architect or an artist of some kind will finally decipher the hidden transcripts, and discover the true spirit, or the 'genius loci'( Quote: C.Noberg Schulz). This is the exact merge I was searching for, one that finally standardises an architectural and urban solution, and through micro and macroscopic derivatives resolves the conditions to a fine level of detail.
A heavy but late lunch, kept my energy levels high for the remainder of the evening. After a walk through the narrow alleys I came out , in front of the Delhi gate , the southern historic entry point into the city. The time was nearing six thirty. In winter, Delhi shuts early. As soon as the sun sets , you will notice the sudden reduction in population as well as traffic density. Being a newcomer within the southern parts of Old Delhi, I suddenly found myself lost, although I still managed to keep the journalist-surveyor traits, and kept clicking pictures, alternating with a few sketches and interviews along the way.
In a matter of half an hour I was lost. There was no reference with which I could identify my location. The words of the policeman echoed in my head( The one I met , on my second day in Shahjahabanad). An acute sense of fear gripped me. For the first time I experienced the 'Maze of Old Delhi'. On the crooked pathways I noticed temples, mosques, churches and all kinds of buildings. The societal diversity was immense. Eunuchs, to fanatics, to vendors, to workers. But on the roads, they just formed their circles and exchanged stories and gazed at me with a sense of 'territory'. I just scurried past everyone, finally ending up after forty five minutes of breathless running and scrambling , on a dimly lit street. ( yes all others were barely lit by the ambient light from the residential part of the buildings.).
After walking for a while longer , studying the night culture this time, I sat with few men, who were around a bonfire, again exchanging stories, but this time , it was about the fantastic tales from the past. What the city actually reveals in dozens of layers of architecture, of mansions, of society, of richness, of art?
That , for me was the most inspiring part of the journey for the day, one that I eagerly noted down in my notebooks, listening to 'memories' , I finally found a new belief, a one that was triggered by 'want', of the public. I was doing the project for the public. Thus , the project's intent grew bigger and my attitude towards it became one fueled by fervour.

The conundrums- A camera , and the view from 70 m above.

The following morning I began my expedition a little later, after a rather strenuous day, going through different portions of the city, as mentioned earlier, and covering almost 30 kilometers by foot;

However, the hot milk , in Delhi , kept me going , and ofcourse the lovely food enriched with cream, quite the savoury. The eateries , in Delhi are a part of its culture, too. Street food ,hotels, restaurants which are over a hundred years old , all spread in different parts of the city forming an exquisite mix. But here I must mention , I left the food bit for the next journey , or my second half of survey , intended after my semester exams. I have inserted a few pictures to remind readers about the previous day:

Exit - Chandni Chowk metro station;
Picture taken 8:00am , December 20th ( previous day, to the description)
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

The route I took was the exact one , as the previous day.

The mosque has a spiraling stairway, one which takes some effort climbing. Wrapped in warm clothing, well layers of warm clothing;

Old Delhi Railway station;
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

I walked , for about twenty minutes, climbing stairs with risers, 30 centimeters, in height, as I neared the zenith, a sense of veneration gripped me , I was going to view the Old city , its monuments and elements from a circular grill like structure, which was part of the umbrella like chatri , common to all palatial structures in Mughal India, derived from Hindu temples.
The temperatures at those altitudes are unbearable, and that coupled with the winds , make it impossible to view anything for longer than 5 minutes without wrapping yourself up again;

8:30 am , Near Old Delhi Railway station , as of previous day to the description ,
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

Street activity at 830 am morning dull ,
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

I barely managed to take my binoculars , and being intransigent and more than determined to do the requisite research work , i pulled my sketch book out as well, ( a scanned image from the book is given below), taking down the street structures, the urban and architectural changes in character, carefully mapping pedestrian and vehicular traffic systems ; and decipherable street mapping. Over two hours i stood , constantly being asked questions, by tourists and natives, about my profession, whether I was an artists, photographer, and much more. Giving curt replies , i kept concentrating on my work , gathering mental pictures of the bazaars, the slum , the shrine , the monument, the park , the garden, the literature bazaar, the police station , the school , the metal workshops , the crafts market , the Red fort, the main street about 200 meters away, all this being done in frigid weather. After every 2 minutes , I had to keep rubbing my hands together, keeping it warm , covering my ears and doing everything i possibly could while sustaining my gaze, to the great city.
A quick view reveals the abominable changes the city has undergone, things out of our control , but as inspiring as the ancient stories may be, I had to succumb to the fact that the place was deplorable, no one wanted it anymore. The economic rut , it had fallen into , just pummeled it into the state it is. The next few hours were marked by two of the most inspiring meetings I had in Delhi;
One with a Dutch native, a physics undergrad student , on tour. What immediately caught my eye was the Dutch resistance to cold, abashed about the amount of clothes I was wearing , I looked at him , astonished;
He was in a tee, a simple cotton tee shirt!Yes, thats it!
A brief conversation with him , and we set forth , together , sharing our experiences and view points about education and the diversity of culture, found in India. He narrated his visions about what the place could offer, to the toursits, ( some valuable input) . I'd like to mention here, that I took over a hundred interviews with different kinds of tourists in all of Delhi, but I haven't penned down anything to keep my writings short.

The sketch done, from around 70 m above the ground level, all i could
manage in the cold, by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

After a heavy lunch at Karim's , Jama Masjid ( a restaurant whose traditions date back centuries), we set off, to Darya ganj , to survey the other part of Shahjahanabad , one that had further secrets, perhaps. The city in two days revealed itself , its character its multiplicity, in architecture , urban design , and culture. A keen eye and a camera to record , instances within the streets, the primary , secondary, tertiary, and in this case , even quaternary, are indispensable. These helped me to accurately predict and relate to the stories, factual and invented, all narrated by the users, old and new. One such user, an inhabitant of the Mecca Bazaar, which runs perpendicular to the South gate of the jama masjid, was named Mohammad Hamza; a college goer, who spoke broken-English, with highly unstructured grammar and was ill verbose, yet , within a few minutes he told us over fifty stories; starting from the early 20th century, his forefathers , their literature, their art, and the ruins, the hidden scripts which still exist! (Some of which are buried under floor slabs.)  What immediately struck me and my friend from Netherlands, was the fervour with which he spoke, the admirable enthusiasm, with which he advertised his literature, language , and religion....

Yes, carts use the main roads too!
by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

That moment you realise what exactly the city has actually 'lost' , what it has 'erased', from its history.The enthusiasm never ceased a fraction for the whole journey starting from the Urdu Bazaar Road( near the Jama Masjid_ , through the roads he took us through , till the end, when we reached the metro station, and bid adieu to Mohammad Hamza, thanking him for his inputs and invaluable suggestions on his, and his friend's opinions.

At about 3, we set off to Humayun's tomb; caught the metro at Chawri bazaar, and we reached the magnificent tomb, in a few minutes. The tomb represented yet another manifesto , of the Mughal;
We reached the entrance to the tomb , at around 3:00pm , and while I had to pay a meagre sum of 10/- Rupees , my friend, had to pay around 500/- Rupees to see the same monument.

After an hour of clicking dozens of pictures , posing with my friend ,for school kids, families and a few other strangers, and ofcourse, putting my binoculars to good use, we started studying the monuments, the proportions of the gardens , the wonderful sequence , entry to tomb, articulated by the regal Mughal empire and their planners. That is the thing with Mughal architecture, its quite repetitive, but whats most fascinating are the subtle differences in workmanship , which are quite palpable , if observed well. Humayun's tomb is one such example, where the efficiency of the Hindu craftsmen and their variations during the process of construction and inlay detailing can be seen.

After spending over two more hours in the complex ,we left for Khan Market , the upmarket shopping streets in Delhi. The scale, material usage, detailing and everything else here make you draw comparisons to Old Delhi, and you find that , what essentially distinguishes them is the class of society catered to ( Quite an obvious observation, one might say).

After a quick bit , at the A-grade restaurant there, which drilled a hole in my pocket , my friend and me parted ways. I scurried to, the nearest metro , yet again and scooted back home , for my last day of stay in my seniors house. After a light dinner , i packed everything for yet another adventure;
which would include a trip to the other end of Delhi. More on that in my next post !!! 

A necessary Quirk??..

             The next day, 20th december , I woke up from a rather equivocal dream, one i could not control or fathom the sequence of events. The only memory I have is that of the apocalypse , and me being away from my home town; Doing what?  Well , a site study! Perhaps, the end comes with architecture, What peccadilloes have I committed, I thought;
             That was quickly interrupted by the flight and the euphony  of the pigeons outside of the tiny window. Pigeons, can probably be given the title, 'mascot of Shahjahanabad'.These birds are found almost everywhere in that precinct, rooftops, cables, roads; they occupy the city, in almost the same density as the humans; the only difference between us and them ; we are quite intractable.

THATS WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT! The legacy of the pigeons
Picture taken by Shankar Roshan Valiathan;20th December, 2012

Moving on ;
            An early breakfast set me off, on yet another expedition; I arrived following the same route on the metro to the station at Chandni Chowk. Now the Delhi metro station has ample signage to help navigate to the different exits , but being a fairly new user, I got lost , and ended up coming out of a tunnel that led me to a ground, an open field where all you can see are a bunch of parked buses. At around 8 am, the sun refuses to make its way out on a winter morning , and the cold chill still persists;
             This was when I decided to follow my mapping instincts, and took the widest road, i saw, passing by people curled up in blankets, with their children , you cannot help but sympathize. Children wake up , seeing a visitor , and are quick to beg, that being a disadvantage of looking like 'you dont belong'. To camouflage yourself is probably the only way to be successful in such conditions, yet another lesson learnt, that point went on to be further emphasized on my study of Jama Masjid and its precinct, where the community is extremely insular.
           A few winding turns, and yes I ended up lost, after all those quick sketches and studies, I still lost my way, scrambling onto a wide footpath, I walked , for about a kilometer, carefully observing the different behaviours of the myriad of society, the vehicular movements, penning down notes into my sketch books, for later comparative analysis. Where could my site be? I just found an edge!An urban condition, the point where the British had erected their railway station, the first one in Delhi, I finally had some sort of an idea, as to where I was; but for a few minutes ,quite a few gazes scare you , others welcome you , but as sanguine as Old Delhi's society may be , there is yet another face which is malicious, as the newspaper articles and videos suggest. That singular fact makes your heartrate increase. What calmed me down was the timely conversation with a policeman;
The policeman : "Beta , sambhaal ke jaana, ache khaase dikhte ho aap, yahaan pe sab kuch hota hain, agar ek bar imsein pakda gaya na, phir samajh lo zindagi chala gaya" .( Son, be careful , you look new and fine, if you get trapped, you can forget about your life)
Me: Shukriya,saab( Thank you, sir)
           The conversation went on for a while , and I set out, this time in the right direction, to Chandni Chowk. My first look at the street , and tortuous thoughts rushed into my mind , a narrow alley leading to the street, provided for further observation;
             A few kids playing cricket, in a small yard behind an old tattered building, his parents cuddled up, trying to recover from the enervation caused by the shivers from the harsh winter night.A few conversations across the grills to the kids enlivened my spirits. Sport can almost instantly make you forget the harshest of conditions. They spoke to me, across the grill in the park for about 20 minutes, they poked their face, gripping the rails tightly, balancing themselves on the pavement stone; A sense of excitement always grips them, the moment you start a conversation, they tell you about their school , their lives, a daily routine and extensively about their game!Whilst I patiently listened , I learnt, about the character of the city , partly , ofcourse, they drew my first urban diagram, literally , their routes could be traced, a pedestrian map, of most families belonging to their particular clan clearly traced! After watching two more of their mini-matches, I left, and continued down to hit , "The Town hall", another British imposition onto the once fabulous street of Chandni Chowk. The street , was initially almost devoid of traffic, sparing the sounds of few rickshaws, and goods vehicles. A short conversation with a shopkeeper revealed yet another layer of activities, this time street and north-old-delhi specific, he revealed the lighter part, the economy and exact referential dates of certain buildings on the street.
The old buildings facing desolation, some 150 years old, the contemporary structures inserted provided for a vivid elevation. The street has almost all possible banks, clothing shops , chappals , food, etc. The description of his , just let me place the activities in relation to history, and the analysis I had already done. Using the studies as a template , helped me aptly structure the stories , and logically separate them into comprehensible diagrams, in my sketchbook.
The entire day went by , observing the gradually increasing traffic, pedestrian density, tourists, goods influx, and much more, and ofcourse eyes looking into your book with veneration( that is a lovely feeling).!
The whole sequence went on till the afternoon, when I waked into McDonalds, the ubiquitous fast food chain.
As I walked out after quick bite , the number of people and vehicles seemed to have increased manifold .Activities in the gurudwara, the temples etc, all happening simultaneously and in perfect sync;
What we quickly realise with just a few strolls around the great precinct, is that no day is going to pass by without mystery; of fascinating co-existence.

A quirk; Amidst thousands of people , a large crowd , I have the unusual ability to turn off , remain calm , and set my mind on the task at hand;

One quality I believe every Urban designer/ Architect should possess , is this very skill , which determine the 

success rates of a good urban designer/ planner. 

Solitude in Multitude , and the ability to seamlessly integrate yourself with the conditions at site.. Just like architects design keeping site specific conditions, and contexts in mind, a successful surveyor , is impeccable in disguising himself to perfectly merge , with the cultural fabric.

This helped me throughout the analysis during the day. The next view was one that I , personally can never forget.As cliche as it might sound , the Red Fort plaza and the gate, in magnificent sandstone, standing in all its grandeur , at the end of Chandni chowk.
 The anticlimax here, is the part where I had to take a right and scoot back on the Delhi metro , back to Connaught place, where i met my senior , who ,taught me the art of bargaining, a dingy, claustrophobic and congested market, running underneath the circular center of Rajiv Chowk. The deal here;
A jacket who's initial quoted price was 3500/- came down to a meagre amount of 500/- ; and that my readers, is precisely how Delhi works!

God bless the Delhi Metro.

           The second day , to be precise , 19th December,2012 began at around 5:30 am; The previous evening , and the night provided me with a brief introduction, a satisfactory glimpse of what was to come.The book , City of Djinns, spoke about different parts of the city, with details about Old Delhi. A fantasy starts creeping into your mind, and ironically traces of these can even be seen in Shahjahanabad;

The novel , presents an idea , and forces the mind into yet another picture of Delhi , and you suddenly start sketching a 3D world; From newspapers , pictures online , descriptions from people , novels and ofcourse the 2D maps give it the distinctive clarity. The idea your mind gets from the book is one that crowns the culture of Old Delhi, speaks of its historicity, literature, architecture , in the most astonishing manner, one that makes a person fall instinctively in love with the place, a truth almost too far from reality, as I would come to realise later.

The events of the city can be traced starting from the later part of the 20th century, which give the reader a chance to understand what happened to the city.

Leaving that thought for you guys to ponder over.. I will continue the story of the day;

           Intense cold and an immense will to fight it and wake up , those are the basic ingredients to a successful , and eventful visit to Delhi, in the months of December and January. As I woke up , the warmth of the sun, almost negligible, I prepared my schedule for the day; as my able senior assisted me in preparing the course of visits;

First, a visit to the premier architectural and urban design school in India ,SPA, in Indraprastha, 

Second, a tour of Shahjahanabad, a brief one at that. 

Third, a visit to Lajpat Nagar Market.

If time remains, a visit to Old Delhi , to study its night culture.

           A welcoming family , and a wonderful breakfast , the day couldn't have started any better. Three glasses of hot milk, and a lovely breakfast, I was set for the day. A few minutes of bargaining with the cycle rickshaw driver and we were off , to the nearest metro stations , when my eyes started scanning the city , the layers of architecture, which are evident in the lovely systems, temporal and permanent , the urban scenarios of Delhi are fascinating to a visitor, and presents a new outlook , every single time one visits the place. A short journey took us to the metro terminal, and thirteen stops it took , and a meagre time of twenty minutes to traverse around twelve kilometres, an achievement! ( I would never have thought of travelling at such pace in the place i hail from, Bangalore). Stop: INDRAPRASTA;

         One thing I would quickly like to mention here is the amount of time one spends, walking in the city, and how a person can actually absorb the most whilst walking, its almost like recording a thousand frames a second instead of less than a hundred. That picture which sticks in your head is one that is never forgotten. The walking has one drawback, it uses up all the calories , those painfully stacked up calories , all burnt, instead of protecting you from the cold.      

         The oldest city in Delhi, one that dates back to the days of creation of the country. A walk along the beautiful boulevards of Indraprastha, a British design, was how we kickstarted the day. A few hours we spent in the libraries at the school , digging the books , and records for any information on the theses we were each looking at.

        Dozens of phenomenal studies , and a few mediocre ones greeted our eyes. Some of them that raised valid issues pertaining to my project. The way i extracted information from the college regarding the studies cannot be mentioned here, but those archives gave me yet another angle , another dimension to analyse the project from; What could I possibly build in Shahjahanabad? What could i revive? What would be relevant with all that the government has tried , with all that INTACH, DUAC, MCD, have tried , and not been successful enough? Will I be able to pull off architecture and urban design of a higher sensitivity? Where will the threads of art , issue , architecture, heritage, culture , tradition , city, and a whole range of other issues meet?....

                 These questions can only be answered by a holistic study, and yes thats what I did , I decided to wait , to critically examine the foundational principles of what I read in the archi text , and compare it to the papers from the archive, the newspaper reports and images painted through interactions with experienced persons from the society.

   

THE BOULEVARD OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL OF PLANNING AND ARCHITECTURE.
Picture taken 1015am , December 19th , by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

  

             Next stop : Old Delhi. Yes, this is precisely what I was waiting for. What had changed in this place, and a million other thoughts,race through your mind. A crowded metro at Rajiv Chowk( Connaught Place) , is where we switched over. The Delhi metro is a marvel, or something even more than that, people foreign to Indian conditions might think of this claim, as a preposterous one, but its a feat , Mr.E Sreedharan(The metro man of India) ought to be credited for. A clean, almost speck less floor, with not a sign of dust, spit or dirt! 

You stare at the precise timings , and the system working behind the immaculate functioning of it.

           A ten minute ride, from Connaught place to Old Delhi, it was. The stop we got off, known as the Chawri Bazaar, a street which gives you the first glimpse of the great mosque , and immense layering within the city. As you walk off the station, amid-st almost a thousand people, some suited , and others carrying weights ten times their own , it seemed like; you are greeted by almost twenty cycle rickshaw drivers, each one quoting their own price to take you around. Even though I was dressed in a simple shirt and pant, that seemed like a luxury to many. A distance of around 300 metres to the mosque takes you around twenty minutes, the cycle rick sometimes falling off, and travelling on a single wheel and from both directions you are almost rolled over!

           The scent of Old Delhi is mesmerizing, malodorous to many , it may seem , but there is certainly a sense of the city embedded within every breath, each short journey( if I may call it) of about ten metres, takes you through smells of incense sticks burning, garbage ( ofcourse!), burning electric wires, small bonfires, to beat the late afternoon chill , the poor with sweat dripping , the affluent with their expensive perfumes,burning tyres etc. 

          The sights provide with the same myriad of views. Ranging from concrete, and ACP clad buildings, to broken balconies of age old havelis , brick structures, some with terribly plastered surfaces, that's about the architecture! There on the side , you'd see an astrologer in some corner, a swamiji(priest) from a neighbouring temple , which stood to one side of the road , but for all practical purposed could be considered a part of the main road, beggars, eunuchs, card sellers, rickshaws, mini goods vans, chemical bottle trucks, and a whole range of people on the terraces. But inevitably , what captures a visitors eye is a single outline, one that stands in all its glory behind the millions of activities, and buildings, is the Jama Masjid.

          All your sense fixate on that one monument , seen through, leaving behind the rest! The sandstone , its beautiful carvings , the dome in marble everything set in place, leaving the remainder of the city.

          The next few hours i went in exploring the columns , the sanctity of the single water body set in proportion to the whole large front courtyard. The cloisters enabling shade, wind flow and  a patterned view through its carved pillars, the minarets , and a whole range of public , leaving behind the entire city , just to gaze at its magnificence. I will not delve further into describing the mosque's architecture or the sketches I did , but as an ardent enquirer of architecture, and society , I would definitely recommend a visit by walk, preferably to this particular monument .

         Just to make a quick mention of the remainder of the day , I did spend in studying the night culture of the place , and made a short visit to the market at Lajpat Nagar ( around eleven kilometres from Old Delhi) , and picked up an ink pen , a forgotten instrument , among dozens of others in my pouch.

         The night culture of Old Delhi on winters is one I will save for later, one that almost transforms the fabric of the city into a cuddled nothingness.

VIEW OF THE JAMA MASJID FROM THE CHAWRI BAZAAR, OLD DELHI
IMAGE TAKEN ON 19th December, 2012, by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

THE ENTRANCE TO THE GREATEST MOSQUE IN DELHI:THE JAMA MASJID
IMAGE TAKEN ON 19th December, 2012, by Shankar Roshan Valiathan

 In brief , what you learn from visiting a place like that, in a few hours is that culture is never ever lost!  You only have to search for it , probably this is what most architects fail to do ? Most urban designers fail to do? How can we revive a city that is not reminded of the importance of it , a city which has no sense of nostalgia , a city which is converted to a tiny world within itself , a world which is moving toward dilapidation, one that is faced with constant torment?

                 So what are these elements ? Along some lines , fantasy , and fact, come together. The use of metaphors to describe the 'soul' or as C.Noberg Schulz called it , 'the Genius loci', is where fantasy and fact come together. These are born from historical and cultural elements that have been glorified. 

The day of the quandary... The first impression- The city of cities and the Stroke of Luck

Dear readers ,
          Before beginning my textual writing, in the post, I would like to point out that, being a student of architecture, a few phrases and terms creep in, in order to explain specific intents of my project.

Getting to the post,
          My traverses through the streets , and the architecture of Delhi began during my preliminary analysis of the Archi-text , titled "Indigenous Modernities-Negotiating Architecture and Urbanism". The book analyzes the complex systems of sociology, economics, history ,culture , and cross references these facets of the city, through architecture and urban morphologies. The comprehensive understanding of the text, led to the penning down of the research methodologies, which aided in the study of the site. A clear understanding of the historical layering was essential, for a clarity in the process of creation of the urban design ideology, filtering down into the creation of the smallest architectural detail.
            The first day, in Delhi( although my previous encounters with the city were through in depth readings of newspaper articles and novels), for me began on the flight , a two and a half journey;

What made it a pleasant was the company of a senior , almost comforting to be in her presence, she spent her time explaining to me the diverse cultures of the city, although  the descriptions of the city gradually generated a feeling of ambivalence.Somewhere along the dialogue, your mind sets off , on a path tangential to the topic at hand.. And you start sketching , the first images of the city , and ones which you would inevitably use as a template, to compare the images you draw , and the observations you make.        

          Meanwhile, before the trip i almost had a footprint , the map of Delhi , specifically Old Delhi, embedded in my head; taking pride in my clairvoyance, this proved to be of utmost important, a mental picture of navigation painted. The foresight of studying the routes , locations , districts and analysing the city in comparison to these structured images , and diagrams, although I must admit , the city of Old Delhi is one which requires genuine instinct and thorough experience to navigate.

Studying a city first begins with understanding its formation , a walk through the city reveals , almost certainly its facets; which when implanted into a map , then starts making sense; the grids , both organic and structured,and the parameters that led to its formation.

       When you walk out into Delhi , on a cold winter's 'afternoon' , and when the sun hits your face, for a few moments, you ponder , whether to take a stroll , in the boulevards of New Delhi and take the mind to oblivion and squander all the investment and hopes pinned on you, or go the other way; 

To one of the harshest environments in India ;Old Delhi or Shahjahanabad......

Well common sense prevailed , and I went the logical, and as most would argue , the right way.

        Every step , and every second in the city was precious , and the moment I set foot , i was staring, and acknowledging the immense cultural diversity , which causes the disparity among 'areas' within the city, which gets distinguished based on 'language'. 

My initial drive stretched across, from the airport , towards the housing colony in Vikaspuri. The drive towards Dwarka revealed multiple elements of Delhi. The typical , and well known cycle rickshaws, the street culture, markets, flyovers , broader military avenues.
        Although, my friend interfered with a perfect recording of this part of my journey, through constant advice on how to handle different situations in the city, my memory recollects few images of what I've mentioned above.
       As far as my project is concerned , a newspaper article , is what gave it the requisite head-start,an article, published in 'The Times of India', portrayed the picture of Old Delhi, a coincidence ( or a stroke of luck ? !). An accurate depiction with data regarding the pitiable condition of the precinct, the neglect of the NGOs , and much more. That very story led me to further inquiry;
Telephone numbers , interviews ,and a million newspaper articles , all of which pointed to the same city, a city which once boasted of one of the greatest cultures? Living in 2013, with advances in , almost everything we can name , we suffer along many levels ; the foremost being 'negligence', the sole cause of issue.
     Leaving that thought behind, I'd like to summarize the remainder of the evening, spent in some much needed family time , a comforting few hours, where my friend's cousin celebrated his birthday, happiness echoed through the walls, but when you are doing a project , the dedication leads you to focus , a single thought which the mind always channels , or tries to channels itself to. This again presents a dilemma , whether to be in the present or dig into more research , after all , the time before thesis , is quite short. Well , I did leave my mind to digress.A later dinner sealed the events of the day, and..

a sense of ennui,prevailed , until my senior handed me the book, "City of Djinns", which successfully stole my sleep.