The Mehrauli Memoirs Part 4: On the Jahaz Mahal Way

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Read Part 3: The Video Call by clicking here

A veritable labyrinth, alleys, and pathways, dusty and narrow. Despite the land being ancient and surely some of the residences being generational, the dust served as proof that ambitions will soar. The dust is the past and the continuous, the dust was possibly a monument at one point in time. Glass, cement, bricks, ash, all choke the air. Once maybe, the dust would have been raised by camels and horses, and marching armies. Now it is tractors carrying steel and sand. There were French in the Mughal court. Now a different Frenchman occupies these lands. The Renault Duster kept blocking the path of Omkaruddin bin Prasanna al-Puneri.

Sapna beauty parlour, where I was supposed to take a left according to Google Maps was not there at the tri-junction. Some proof that Sundarji needs to visit the homeland that crows his achievements as theirs. I walked through the crowded market. Mothballs, combs, cauliflowers, car mechanics, barbers, flower sellers (not florists, mind you!), clothes to cover you and covers for your mobiles, bakers, sweet sellers, steel utensils for a steal and frocks for little girls. Anything that was sold during the Sultanate was still available. Anything that can be bought on Amazon was available for purchase. Made in Hindustan shared shelf space with Make in India. 

To navigate the market there was a trick – walk behind a two-wheeler or the aforementioned Duster. They created a path. I looked up and wondered how the crows navigated the sky. It was littered with clear violations of Kirchoff’s Laws. High-speed internet (obviously), telephone (maybe), and electricity – (legit and stolen) crisscrossed the skies and formed a dense foliage around poles. It was a roof of technology. If you tried to fly too high, the society around you ensured you would get electrocuted. When there is no badshah to keep the ryot in line, the peasants will ensure no one rises to that position, even at the cost of their own betterment. 

 

I walked under this canopy and found Jahaz Mahal – or what was left of it. I was underwhelmed. Something I did not have the wisdom to get used to at that point.

Every mohalla has a saint,
His grave a shrine, his samadhi a temple.
All sins are forgiven there -
Including digging the same for a new pipeline.

Read Part 5: Jahaz Mahal by clicking here 

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