Today, I went for an afternoon stroll in the New Delhi, the posh quarter of the city, with the foreign embassies and the homes of parliament members on splendid green grounds behind guarded fences. Built for twenty years between 1911 and 1931 by the British architect E. Lutyens, this administrative district was the attempt of the British to assert their Imperial credentials, rivaling the great city quarters of the Moguls and Delhi sultans. But as the old saying goes “Whoever builds a new city in Delhi will lose it”, the colonists had to leave the country shortly after. They left behind the central plaza “Connaught Place“, now serving as the upmarket commercial hub with streets radiating in all directions, the magnificent buildings of the viceroy’s residence, now home to the Indian president, the pompous arch of India Gate and the boulevard Rajpath. On the lawns at its sides families spend a relaxed time enjoying picnics and spontaneous cricket matches.
Coming from the Gandhi Smriti museum, I was followed by a group of youngsters. Since I did not know what they were up to, I stopped and confronted them with my few Hindi greetings. Shy in the beginning, they soon started taking selfies with me in their middle until the whole Rajpath gathered around for pictures. Having had my shot on fame, I continued to Jantar Mantar, the outdoor observatory built three hundred years ago for precise measurements of solar and lunar calendars and the planetary movements. While probably no one understands their exact function any more, these monuments appeal for their figurative shapes.
In the streets around this site, people had put up beds, indefinitely fasting for the freedom of Tibet. While passing their manifestation, an ôto-Rikshaw driver kept approaching me: he prided himself with the German word his tourist passengers always utter in his car: “langsam, langsam!” (slowly, slowly!). Since I was not sure if he really understood that word, I preferred walking.