The crime, the Covid, the politics and the potholes: Capital Letters — Keeping track of Delhi's week, one beat at a time, through the eyes and words of HT's reporters, with all the perspective, context and analysis you need. Good morning! If you ever head down Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg, past the Kotla ruins, you’ll find the arterial corridor that links New Delhi and Old Delhi is, for a few metres, split down the centre by a green patch. Easy to miss, nondescript even, if you’re a resident of this grand old city, it’s a green patch like many others across the Capital - barricaded, festooned with weed and untamed shrubs, but with a tall, self-assured stone structure in the centre. Keep your earphones on or your eyes pinned to the road and you may not even notice it exists. Except, of course, that now unassuming stone edifice dates back to the 16th century, is one of the 13 surviving gates of mediaeval Delhi and has been witness to countless bloody battles and wars. According to historian RV Smith in a 2002 piece in The Hindu, Mughal emperor Aurangzeb hung his brother, Dara Shikoh’s, head from that gate after defeating him in their brutal succession battle. In the same piece, Smith says Bahadur Shah Zafar’s (the final Mughal emperor who now lends his name to the road that houses this edifice) sons were shot dead by British forces at the gate in 1857. It’s called Khooni Darwaza, nomenclature it was eventually bestowed for being a platform of and spectator to this pan-empire gore. Khooni Darwaza finds itself in the company of dozens of other monuments scattered across the Capital (or, more accurately, monuments in the gaps between which the modern Delhi was built) which stand firm, marinated in centuries-worth of experience, but which have also camouflaged themselves in the city’s anthropocenic silhouette. Also sample, for instance, the 11th century fort Qila Rai Pithora. Once built as part of Delhi’s first city, it now finds itself in the relatively less venerated position of being best known as a landmark for Saket Metro station. Disintegrating gates and perforated walls fortify the fort that once fortified Mehrauli. Delhi is home to roughly 210 vital monuments protected either by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) or the state government. INTACH’s log of Delhi’s built heritage, in the meanwhile, logs over 550 monuments. But time and tide, which wait for none apparently, have gnawed away at a significant number of Delhi’s monuments, and authorities have done little to halt, let alone reverse, that decay. The more popular monuments have been, deservedly, given the TLC they require, even as many others have been left to crumble. But some rejuvenation seems to be on the horizon. Delhi will host the G20 Summit this September and authorities are scrambling to wrap up long-pending infrastructure projects, spruce up the cityscapes, recarpet the streets and (crucially for today’s newsletter) to give many of the city’s less-frequented monuments long-overdue coats of paint. Gol Gumbad, for one. The Lodhi-era monument, which lies unassumingly in a corner of the Centenary Methodist Church in Lodhi Road, has for years been relegated to the city’s subconsciousness, paling in the shadow of larger, more popular monuments in the vicinity. This monument, on the intersection of Lodhi Road and Lal Bahadur Shastri Marg, last saw repairs in 2010 in the run-up to the Commonwealth Games. On Tuesday, when HT’s Sadia Akhtar visited the spot, she found workers carrying out repairs on the dome and plastering the tomb’s facade. Around 40 workers are at work on the monument. Three lesser-known monuments in the city’s iconic Lodhi Gardens will also get the same treatment. One of Delhi’s most popular parks, Lodhi Gardens is among the Capital’s most frequented weekend destinations. It’s home to at least eight Lodhi-era monuments, but just a handful, including the ubiquitous Bada Gumbad, find a place in the city’s popular consciousness. Now, the Delhi government has embarked on a mission to give pride of place to three Mughal-era structures within the 80-acre green patch – a mosque, a turret, and an enclosure. Finally, the long derelict Qila Rai Pithora. Delhi lieutenant governor VK Saxena, during an inspection of the Tomar-era fort on Saturday, pulled up officials and ordered that the “neglected” site be spruced up immediately. This neglect isn’t recent. As far back as 2016, HT wrote: “Residents of the area feel that since it is an ASI-protected structure, the least they can do is put a signboard that reflects the historical importance of this site so that it doesn’t look like an abandoned ruin deep into the woods.” Delhi rests much of its economy on the strength of its centuries-old (sometimes millenia-old) monuments. But there’s some way to go before the monuments themselves get the respect they deserve. |