Red Fort baoli

I had to climb a fence and jump into padlocked territory in order to see this stepwell.

But a stepwell is worth it.

This one is located inside the Red Fort.  It likely pre-dates the fort and palaces built by Shah Jahan and was not much used by any of the royal family.

And this stepwell?  It was used as a prison.  The British closed up some of the chambers and imprisoned 1857 mutineers here.

Imprisoned in a stepwell.
I love stepwell history.

This makes number nine in Delhi.
How many more are left to find!?

Grounded art

I need a Mughal art expert.

I've been examining these carvings and inlaid stone work designs along with those of the Taj Mahal and I'm fascinated by something.  Unlike designs elsewhere, and like those done by the modern-day inlaid stone artists, the flowers depicted are all firmly grounded in the earth.

Beautiful flowers have to grow out of dirt.

So often flowers are shown as something that float in space.
But this is realism.  Earthy realism--something I'm not sure the Mughal emperors (believing they were kings of the universe) had a very grasp of.

I'm also really curious about the two odd fish-like things flying past the flowers.  What is that supposed to be?
They aren't symmetrical at all.  Was there some significance to this part of the design?

I need an expert, with answers to my questions.  As it is, I'm conjecturing all sorts of theories.

Diwan-i-khas and the Peacock Throne

Visitors can still go see the Diwan-i-Khas at the Red Fort, the private audience hall of the Mughal emperors.  And though it's run down and the restoration work slow, it's still a beautiful building.  White marble, intricately carved pillars inlaid with semi-precious stones.
Emperor Shah Jahan was so pleased with the pavilion that he had these words engraved on it:  "If there is paradise on the face of this earth, it is this, it is this."

The last time court was held here was during 1857, when the last Mughal emperor was making the fateful decision of whether or not to join the forces who were in revolt against the British rulers.  Though he tried to resist, he was swept up in a conflict that ended in tragedy for the empire and his family.

Along with the royal family, something else is missing from the Diwan-i-Khas.  The Peacock throne.
The throne used to sit on a pedestal as the centerpiece of all the Mughal splendor.

Shah Jahan had it made when he ruled the empire from Delhi.  The national treasury was displayed for all to see.  A statement in gold, diamonds, sapphires and pearls to say, "We are not just kings here, we are emperors."

The Mughals were defeated by a Persian army in 1739 and the Peacock throne was plundered.  A short time after, the Persian ruler himself was assassinated and the throne was dismantled, its jewels and gold dispersed to different factions.

The sun may have set on the Mughal empire and their treasures may be stolen and lost to history.  But a few hints of what once was still remain.

Lal Qila

The imposing walls of the Red Fort in Delhi stretch over two kilometers.  They were built by Shah Jahan, who, like his grandfather Humayan, preferred Delhi to Agra.

The fort was a huge undertaking.  The builders and architects were told to create a paradise on earth for the emperor and his court next to the Yamuna river.

At the edge of the private royal residence was the Diwan-i-Aam, where the public came to the ruler to tell him their problems. There was a courtyard and garden in front where the people used to gather to see the emperor sit on his magnificent throne. The area was heavily ornamented and hung with thick curtains--meant to impress and awe all those who saw it.

In the private quarters, a continuous channel of water connects a row of pavilions.  The Nahr-i-Behisht, or "Stream of Paradise", collected in pools (like this one in the Rang Mahal) and fountains throughout the royal gardens and provided a kind of air-conditioning for the summer months.

One of the last things to be constructed by the Mughal rulers within the fort is the pavilion in the Hayat baksh garden.  Here Bahadur Shah II built his own small palace within a lake. 
The descendents of Shah Jahan found it difficult to maintain the splendor of the fort.  And not just building at the same level of grandeur, but  living.
When the British took over the fort in 1857, the royal descendents were found living in run down streets and alleyways that looked the same as those outside the fort.  The whole area was cleared away for army barracks.

Now, the red sandstone columns of the Diwan-i-Am glow in the afternoon sun, but in their original state, painted gold, they must have awed the public audience that gathered here to see the emperor.

The golden door is the entrance to Chhatta chowk, which was modeled after the Persian covered markets.  Shah Jahan thought the covered market was a good idea as a relief from the hot sun.
It's still a market place for the usual touristy items of India.

Mughal and British rule have both come to an end in India.  The towering red walls of the Red Fort symbolize the independence of India and the merging of history with the present.

Diwali

During the afternoon, it was deceptively quiet out there.  Not even the call of a vegetable man.
But it was coming.

My street was already lit up in expectation for what was coming.

 In the evening the neighbors lit their candles to light the way to their homes.

 The houses hung with lights, the streets and skies alive with firecrackers.

Diwali is Delhi's biggest party.

Dog at the monument

Instead of living on the street, this dog lives at the monument.
I want to know how he got up there...so I can follow him and see from that view.
Funny dog.

Elephant sighting

Elephants.
Walking along the road.
Like they belong there.
I never tire of seeing it.

Afsarwala

Afsarwala's tomb and masjid are inside the Humayan complex. 
They aren't really that exciting.
Breaking down and unvisited, there isn't much of a story to tell about them either.

Except this:
The name Afsarwala. It means just what it sounds like:  Officer wala.
It's the officer's tomb and masjid.  Which officer, no one knows.  Most nobles were officers of some sort in the military way back when.

When this area to the west of Humayan's tomb was still a bustling market, the masjid would have been in the center of it.  But even then, it seems, no one remembered long enough which officer was the patron of the masjid.

Another irony of history, choosing what it will to remember or forget.

Banduk and hatiyar

What in the world do you put in a metal box of this size?

Banduk and hatiyar.

That's what the metal-smith told me when I asked.
I understood him to tell me that these boxes were what the police were having made to store their things.
I didnt' know the police needed so many boxes of this size for their rifles and weapons...but apparently it's so.

Jahaz Mahal

The lake that sprang up at Hauz-i-Shamsi was such a nice place that a palace was built there:  Jahaz Mahal, which means "boat palace".

Maybe the royal folks took their boats out on the lake, but it was for sure a nice getaway on a hot Delhi day.

These days it's not a lot more than an old brick building beside a weedy pond.
The garden beside it is a favorite of cricket players.
The guards in the palace--protecting it from vandals, I guess--spend their time yelling at the boys who climb into the moat to retrieve their cricket balls.

There are a few hints as to what might have been palace grandeur 600 years ago--blue tiled chatris, carved red sandstone pillars, echoing arches.

I wanted to go up to the second story and see the view over the lake and neighborhood.
"It's locked, do you have the key?" I asked one of the hovering guards.
"Yes, it's locked.  Yes, I have the key," he replied.
"You have the key?" I asked again.
"Yes," he reached into his pocket to prove it, happy to show me.
"Can we go up the stairs?"
"But this is not allowed," he answered.
"Oh."
We both looked sad at this news.

Again, I have to go back when there are no cricket players around try again.
There are so many places that are not closed off to visitors that it's surprising when a door is actually closed and locked.  And often it's a door I want to open.

Ah irony.
Maybe like this fake arched window, there's really nothing on the other side to see.
But when I'm exploring the ruins of an old palace, I like to see as much as I can for myself.