8

What the Story of Delhi
Means to Me

 

For years I’ve wanted to know the story of Delhi but haven’t really bothered to find out. When you live amidst history, you begin to take it for granted. Worse, I am guilty of comparing Delhi to Canberra, Ottawa or Washington, as if that were pertinent. No doubt, every time I have done so I have known I was wrong but that did not deter me. In my ignorance, I thought I was making a valuable point. Until, of course, the one occasion when I got badly caught out.

“Tell me about Delhi.” said the pretty young lady sitting beside me on the Air India flight from London. It was sometime in the late 1980s and I was coming home on holiday. She was very attractive and I was hoping to strike up a conversation. “I believe it’s an ancient city with a terrific history.”

“It is, it is.” I replied enthusiastically but not knowing any of it I could hardly continue. So I tried to deflect the subject.“It’s also a lot like Canberra, Ottawa and Washington.”

“Oh God, surely not.” She said, sounding crestfallen.

“Oh yes.” I insisted but having said so I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Well, I hope you are wrong.”

There the conversation ended. For rest of the eight hour flight, all my other opening gambits met with a polite rebuff. My lack of knowledge of Delhi had put a firm stop to my efforts to ingratiate myself.

Last week, I discovered just how horribly wrong I was. Pavan Varma has written The Millennium Book On New Delhi and last Sunday, he sent me a copy. At first glance, it looks like a sumptuous coffee table adornment, not that I have anything against them but as I sat flicking through its pages, admiring the photographs whilst dipping into the articles, I discovered that the book contains one of the most readable histories of Delhi. I now know how the city got its name, the story behind its origins, how many ‘cities’ the metropolis comprises and a lot else besides. I owe it all to Khushwant Singh. For he has written the article on which my eyes first fell and I have read it – no, devoured it – with gratitude and glee.

So permit me to show off.

The origin of Delhi lies in myth, which is so much nicer than boring fact. Once when the Ganges was in spate — today it’s too polluted to make that effort — the river threw up the Shastras. (Incidentally, the phrase ‘threw up’ is Khushwant’s although I doubt if he meant it as a pun!). The site is marked by a temple which came to be called Nigambodh. Yes, the very ghat where you and I will perhaps one day be despatched hopefully heavenwards. “This” adds Khushwant, “was a good enough reason for our ancestors to choose Delhi as the abode of God. Thus arose the first city of Delhi, Indraprastha, the abode of Indra, lord of the firmament.” Today, the Purana Quila stands supposedly at the same spot.

Indraprastha was followed by several successor cities before we come to our beloved New Delhi. The number is uncertain : some say seven, claiming New Delhi as the eighth, whilst others say fifteen. In Khushwant’s essay, I counted fourteen. They are Indraprastha, Yoginikpura, Lal Kot, Siri, Kilokheri, Chiragh, Jahanpanah, Tughlaqabad, Firuzabad, Qila Feroze Shah, Mubarakabad, Din Panah, Shahjahanabad and, of course, New Delhi. But which was the 15th? Irritatingly, I still don’t know.

However the bit I like best is Khushwant’s account of how Delhi acquired its “odd-sounding name … pronounced by the literati as ‘Dehlee’ and by the hoi-polloi as ‘Dillee’.” There are several versions. It could be a derivative of the Persian word ‘Dehleez,’ meaning threshold, because the city was the gateway to the Gangetic plains. Another version is that it flows from the word Daidalas, the name given to the city by the Alexandrian geographer, Ptolemy. However Ferishta, the 16th century Persian historian, claims the name is traceable to a certain Rajan Dhilu who once ruled over the city. Whilst some scholars connect the name to the famous iron pillar close to the Qutub Minar. I am not sure if I fully understand this connection. As Khushwant writes, “the pillar was designed as the standard of Lord Vishnu and was meant to be implanted deep into the hood of the cobra which bears the earth on its head.” It was said that anyone who tampered with it would be cursed. A foolish Tomar Rajput king, who wanted proof that the pillar was in fact imbedded in the serpent’s head, had it dug up. When it was, the base was found to be covered with blood. The Tomar king lost his throne and his dynasty died with him. It’s a wonderful story but, for the life of me, I cannot fathom the connection with Delhi. Is it to suggest that Delhi is a city of blood? Sadly, at times it has been.

Perhaps one day Khushwant will explain things — and also give me the missing fifteenth name — but even if he chooses to leave me less than fully knowledgeable, the next time I sit beside a pretty face on Air India I shall have fewer problems keeping the conversation going. `Wish me luck!