The Mehrauli Memoirs Part 9: The Way Back

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 Read Part 8: The Labyrinth by clicking here

The sun was setting, the road was long. The nearest metro stations were Qutb Minar and Saket. I chose the latter. I passed the temple where women in their late 40s and 50s were exiting after professing their love for Lord Krishna, now tika-marked and prasad-filled. I passed the Qutb Ccomplex walls, the evening light highlighting Iltutmish’s tomb in jannatic light. Buses pounded on the road beside me.

Then a jump – in class. Petty shops gave way to high-end boutiques. Sheila Lediess Dresses gave way to Satya Paul. Curtains used to keep dust at bay gave way to doorkeeps guarding AC-enclosed halls. I walked on. Valets lounged about where a few hundred metres behind bovine courts were held. It was mind-boggling. Dresses, lehengas, fabrics worth lakhs replaced headphones at a discount, biscuits with 30% extra and fresh cuts of meat. No sign of QR codes stuck on walls here. Restaurants with ‘Qutb’ somewhere in their name offered delicious wines and views. You will not get bhelpuri or sugarcane juice here unless they are deconstructed.

It was as if an invisible line, perhaps only seen on government revenue records had been crossed. Buses suddenly stopped jostling for space. BMWs had the right of way here. Mehrauli the village was gone. Mehrauli the ‘prime address’ was here.

Goodbye, and good walk.

 

Restart your adventure by clicking here for Part 1: Into Mehrauli

 

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