Moghuls got it going on

At least they did at some time in the past. Delhi is absolutely littered with tombs of Very Important People who thought very highly of themselves. I do have to say that they built things made to last. It turns out that Delhi is really a convergence of seven cities linked together over time and now simply linked by sprawl. Each of the original seven cities, which started to really be cities about a thousand years ago, is commemorated either by a tomb complex (by far the more popular choice) or by a fort—there are two: the old one and the red one.

The red one (Lal Qila) is by far the more impressive one, but the old one (Purana Qila) has some serious charms not least of which is that it was originally built in the 12th or 13th century. It is a low prestige fort relatively speaking and pretty darn hard to find. Everyone and I mean everyone who is anyone was hanging out at the World Heritage site that is Humayun’s tomb (a name that does not come trippingly off my tongue, I’m not sure why). Yet a mere three or four of the some of the least pleasant kilometers I have ever walked in my life lies Purana Qila. Behind the zoo. Hidden. There were no westerners here, but there was a sprinkling of Indians, mostly couples seeking solitude (a rare grace in this town) and people with families who were either burned out by the zoo or realized that their emotional and mental stamina were simply not up to the task of stinky animals and hordes of people. No it is a very select group who comes to the Old Fort.

Because there are ramparts and ramparts always look down on something, they were irresistible and we had to climb them—right out on to a limb. Climbing is right! Like most everything else in Delhi this place is under refurbishment. The main focus of refurbishment is always the 100 or so meters that the typical tourist—foreign or Indian—is willing to walk. However, the sights and sounds below the ramparts were their own reward, though even high above the world, I am still the object of attention. Did I mention that I feel like a movie star here? Everyone takes my photo, with their phones, with a camera, usually quite blatantly. I suspect that I am prominently displayed in many Indian homes at this point and am simply known as ‘My friend, who is not from India.’

The photos are mostly of the Tomb (including the graffiti, which is everywhere, but I’m dying to know what wers means), the Barber’s Tomb (barber to Humayun—must have been one dynamite barber!), and a view from the ramparts.