The Mehrauli Memoirs Part 2: Mandi Masjid

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Read Part 1: Into Mehrauli by clicking here 

 

Mehrauli lies in its own world. No wonder it thinks that DMC rules do not apply to it. It is a series of rabbit holes surrounded by a forest and the Qutb complex such that even the metro does not reach Mehrauli proper. My aim was the Jahaz Mahal – a pending suggestion by my best friend since my last visit to Delhi. The nearest metro stations were more than two kilometres away – Qutb Minar and Chhatarpur. But I was determined to walk, and so like the travellers of yore, I made my way from Qutb Minar metro station to Jahaz Mahal. It was fitting too, since according to some, the latter was built as a sarai. The road became treacherous immediately – no footpath, narrow, and inundated with heavy traffic and SUVs. I was the only pedestrian whom everyone thought was on a fool’s journey. And then I struck fool’s gold. A completely unexpected edifice, unmarked even on the maps appeared like a mirage in front of me. It would remain so in one aspect despite climbing onto it.

 

 

The first sight was tremendous. I had heard that Mehrauli is littered with monuments, so despite the expectations, this was unexpected, as I was in the middle of Mehrauli forest!

 

Mandi Masjid (also known as Madhi Masjid) was built during the reign of Allaudin Khalji as a mosque in the grain market that was located here. Hence, Mandi Masjid. Only being there in person can describe the rich outer structure of the same. I tried to figure out if it could be accessed. It could, through a narrow gap held open by a chain between the gates. The familiar blue board of ASI, announcing that this is a protected monument greeted me. As I had prefaced, the present had caught up in the form of a lone guard on a video call atop the steps leading to the entrance of the mosque. Allah had been replaced by his wife as a recipient of prayers here. I interrupted his dialogue with his Almighty by inquiring what this monument was called. “Isse Mandi Masjid kehte hai”. I thanked him and proceeded through the gateway – right into a massive troop of huge monkeys. 

 



 

I stopped, did a 180. I paid obeisance to this structure from the gateway itself and went out.

 

 

“Yahan bohot bandar hai”. The guard looked at me sheepishly. Of course, why was he out here then? I satisfied my lust for photos by clicking some from the road.

 


The mosque was built in history, and now mythology keeps it. The Vanarsena had successfully stopped me from exploring its new domain. They did not need a Supreme Court judgment to interpret a mosque as a jungle. 

 

History revisited its ruins,
Expecting the masses to marvel at it.
The monkeys bared their fangs,
“New occupants – who dis?”

 

Click here for Part 3: The Video Call



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