Mehrauli Archeological Park: Delhi's Hidden Gem

Wally overcame his fear of heights to shimmy along narrow ledges at the Rajon Ki Baoli stepwell in Mehrauli Archeological Park

An ancient stepwell in the jungle is one of Delhi's lesser-known attractions.

Talk about off the beaten path — even our driver had to ask directions to find Mehrauli Archeological Park. But it's a fun adventure, especially the stepwell.

The park lies beyond the Qutb Minar complex and was the site of the first urban settlement in Delhi.

“One false step, and you could plummet to almost certain demise.”

We drove through a slum, taking a dirt road and arriving at Rajon Ki Baoli, a stepwell built by Dalat Khan during the reign of Sikander Lodi in 1516.

Duke at the Rajon Ki Baoli stepwell in Mehrauli Archeological Park

Rajon Ki Baoli

The remains of ancient hydraulic systems, stepwells were of special importance as a source of water, a place to socialize and provide relief during extreme summer heat.

Wally in the mosque atop the stepwell

We stepped into the cool recess of one of the porticoes located near the perimeter ledge and made our ascent up a pitch-black, narrow flight of stairs, the walls smoothened from the passing of a thousand hands. We arrived at a landing, which included a small, elevated tomb and mosque. Its inner walls contained marks of vandalism etched into the walls.

Warning: If you suffer from vertigo, like Wally, you could be at risk here. There aren't any guardrails, and some of the paths are narrow. One false step, and you could plummet to almost certain demise.

Jamali-Kamali Mosque

After we visited the stepwell, our driver took us to the Jamali-Kamali Mosque. Local lore holds that banished djinn haunt the mosque and converse with passersby in animal voices.

There's not a lot to see here. But two security guards unlocked an iron gate and led us to a rooftop courtyard, which included a mausoleum ornamented with the remains of cobalt blue-colored tile and some unmarked cenotaphs.

After we had a good look around, they led us back out, and we realized they were expecting baksheesh (a tip) as a reward.

Metcalf's Canopy

Built in 1850 by Charles Metcalf as an architectural folly — an ornamental structure intended to look old — Metcalf's Canopy sits atop a small grassy hill and overlooks the Jamali-Kamali Mosque.

While here we saw a couple being filmed. We didn't know if it was a scene from a Bollywood movie or an elaborate engagement video. 

Another highlight: We saw three puppies pile together to bask in the sunlight and take an afternoon nap. –Duke

“Local lore holds that banished djinn haunt the mosque and converse with passersby in animal voices.”

Haint Blue Porch Paint

My parents painted the ceiling of their front porch haint blue, a tradition in the Lowcountry

Tired of evil spirits raiding your home? Victim of vengeful ghosts? Try haint blue! 

No one wants to share their home with angry, vengeful spirits. And that's exactly what haints are.

These ghosts are trapped somewhere between the worlds of the living and the dead. Needless to say, that makes them grumpy.

“Gullahs paint the ceilings of their porches a pale blue to keep away pesky poltergeists.”

Gullahs, the descendants of African slaves who worked the plantations of Georgia and South Carolina, found a clever way to exploit the spirits' one weakness: They cannot cross water.

Rather than digging a moat around every one of their homes, they decided to trick the haints. 

By taking lime, milk and some odd pigments, and mixing them up in a pit, the Gullahs ended up with a pale blue color. They used to this to paint the ceilings of their porches to keep away the pesky poltergeists.

Sure enough, it fooled the haints, who believed they couldn't cross the threshold and found another home to haunt. 

As a bonus, wasps, too, get tricked, local superstition has it. They supposedly mistake haint blue for the sky and build their nests elsewhere.

The tradition lives on today in the South. My mother has painted the ceiling of her front porch and sunroom a lovely haint blue.

As for sinister spirits of the dead? Haint no spirits here! –Wally

Exploring the Qutb Minar Complex

The Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque in the Qutb Minar complex features columns from pillaged Hindu and Jain temples.

A must-see attraction in Delhi, these towers and mosques feature aspects of Hindu, Jain and Islamic architecture.

We had a great time wandering the Qutb Minar complex one afternoon. Here we break down the various parts.

Alai Minar

We ate lunch on the low stone wall that faced the Alai Minar, an enormous grooved stump of lime mortar and rubble masonry that reminded me of smaller version of the Devils Tower National Monument.

“Anyone who can stand with his or her back to the pillar and link their hands behind it will be blessed with good fortune. ”

The unfinished monument, looming 80 feet above the landscape, was the Muslim ruler Ala-ud-din Khilj's failed grand attempt to build a tower twice the height of the Qutb Minar. Through an opening in the rubble, you can see the inner core, around which the staircase would have been built.

Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque

We passed through a pillared colonnade built from the inventive reuse of pillaged temples that had previously existed on the site and entered the Indo-Islamic Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque. An inscription on the eastern portal states that the structure was built with material from 27 demolished Hindu and Jain temples.

Elaborate pillars stolen from other religions' temples now decorate the Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque.

Fragments of friezes depicting humans, animals and deities can be seen incorporated into the structure. Many of these motifs appear out of place, what with the Islamic tendency to find human depictions blasphemous, relying instead on geometric pattern. Perhaps these were used as a political statement of the people they conquered.

Standing within the courtyard of the mosque is a curious, virtually corrosion-free 35-foot iron pillar that dates back to the 4th century CE. It bears an inscription stating that it was erected as a flagstaff in honor of the Hindu god Vishnu.

Popular tradition holds that anyone who can stand with his or her back to the pillar and link their hands behind it will be blessed with good fortune. However, a fence erected in 1997 now keeps fortune-seekers away, likely put in place to prevent damage to the column from sweat — which contains a high amount of salt that acts as a corrosive agent.

Qutb-Minar

Next to the mosque is the Qutb-Minar in red and buff sandstone. We thought perhaps that we would not be able to get a decent picture of the tower due to the amount of haze. However, moving to the opposite side, the foggy gloom miraculously disappeared, and we were able to take some beautiful shots.

The Qutb Minar tower

Qutb-ud-din Aibak erected the tallest brick minaret in the world in 1193 after the defeat of Delhi's last Hindu kingdom. It was constructed to celebrate the victory of Mughal armies over the Hindu rulers. It has five distinct levels, each decorated differently, with a small balcony separating them.

Having recently read William Dalrymple's City Of Djinns, I could not find a more suitable description than his “like a fully extended telescope placed lens-down on a plateau in the Aravalli hills.”

Wally wanted to know why the tower was closed. I had read that there was some sort of stampede, where a bunch of people got trampled trying to exit en masse.

Alai Darwaza

Originally conceived as one of four grand gates to the mosque, the Alai Darwaza was the only structure to be completed. The domed gateway is decorated with red sandstone and contrasting white marble bands carved with calligraphic inscriptions.

The red sandstone and white marble façade of the Alai Darwaza Mosque in the Qutb Minar complex

Visitors leave the Alai Darwaza Mosque in the shadow of the Qutb Minar.

We entered the vaulted space, which is punctuated by intricately carved stone jali screens. Dust motes floated in the bright, pervasive sunlight as it passed through, casting star-shaped patterns onto the gate interior. It's an impressive sight.

If we had to choose between the Red Fort and Qutb Minar, we’d take this complex any day. –Duke

5 Strange World Traditions

A temple in Ubud on Bali — just don't go in if you're on your period!

The more you travel, the more weird traditions you’ll encounter — and that’s some kind of wonderful.

Part of the wonderment of travel is experiencing cultures that are vastly different from your own. It expands your mind; it helps you understand how we’re indelibly shaped by our environments.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of feeling superior, that places that don’t follow our conventions are somehow more barbaric.

““I didn’t fly halfway around the world to not go into any temples just because it’s that time of the month,” she exclaimed.”

But that’s what makes world travel so fun. Get out of your comfort zone. See things from another point of view. Travel truly changes you.
Here’s a sampling of some of the strangest customs I’ve experienced on my travels.

On Bali, menstruating women cannot enter Hindu temples.

The idea is that women on their periods are somehow “unclean.” But my friend Christina was having none of it.

“I didn’t fly halfway around the world to not go into any temples just because it's that time of the month,” she exclaimed.

“Hey,” I responded, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

In Thailand, there’s no concept of the closet for gays.

As hard as this is to believe, this is what I was told by my friend Deb, who was living in Bangkok at the time.

Apparently being gay isn’t something you have to hide in Thailand. Which I suppose means there’s no repression, and you just tell everyone around you when you first realize you have feelings for the same sex.

Honestly, this one still astounds me, and I’m not sure I fully believe it. I feel like it would make Thailand the only country on Earth where it was totally OK to be gay.

In Morocco, men hold hands and kiss hello.

There’s nothing gay about it. But Muslim men are quite physical with each other. It’s not unusual to see two grown men walking arm in arm down the street or even holding hands.

And when they greet each other, they kiss on the cheek. The man who drove us to the Sahara used me to demonstrate the traditional greeting. He kissed me once. Twice. Thrice. Four times! It seemed a bit excessive. I mean, who’s got time for that?

In Sevilla, Spain, you toss your napkins right on the floor.

You stop at a tapas bar for some delicious nibblies, and when you’re done, you nonchalantly throw your soiled napkin onto the ground.

“It took me a while to get used to this,” my friend Jo said. “But honestly — they’d rather you do that than leave them on the bar.”

In Peru, you pour out booze as an offering to Mother Earth.

The Andean people worship the Earth as Pachamama, and whenever they have an alcoholic drink, they pour a bit out to honor her.

“What about if you’re in someone’s home?” I asked my guide one evening at our campsite on the Inca Trail.

“Yes,” he told me.

“What about if you’re at a restaurant?” I asked.

He nodded again. “Yes.”

“It’s kind of like pouring one for your homies,” I said. But he didn’t understand. –Wally

Chancay Burial Dolls

These Chancay burial dolls from Cusco, Peru, which Wally named Claudia and Lucha, have dollies of their own

A pre-Incan people had these dolls to accompany them to the afterlife.

Wally purchased these folk art Chancay burial dolls in 2006 on a trip to Cusco, Peru. The dolls are modern-day reproductions modeled after ancient cloth figures found in the graves of elite Chancay people, whose culture flourished in the arid coastal valley of Peru during 1000-1460 CE. The Chancay culture is believed to have been conquered and incorporated into the Inca Empire in the mid to late 13th century. 

Their exact purpose has been a subject of debate, but I'd like to believe that these were similar to the figurines placed in ancient Egyptian tombs with the intent to follow their loved ones into the next life. 

“ I’d like to believe that these were similar to the figurines placed in ancient Egyptian tombs with the intent to follow their loved ones into the next life. ”

Indigenous Peruvian artisans recreate these dolls in a traditional style, incorporating remnants of ancient textile fragments recovered from pre-Colombian burial sites. –Duke

India’s Public Urination Problem

India's more recent campaign to shame men who urinate in public

Ho ho shame shame! With Indian men seemingly peeing everywhere but in a toilet, the country has come up with an unusual campaign to shame offenders.

The billboard certainly caught our eye. It featured a young girl, hand raised to her mouth, with the slogan, “Papa!! Ho Ho Shame Shame! You are urinating in public?”

Using the concept that there is no better deterrence than shaming from your peers to encourage others to change their behavior, India has created a campaign with the objective of preventing public urination.

“Toilets first and temples later.”

— Prime Minister Narendra Modi

In smaller type at the bottom of the sign were instructions on where to upload images of offenders.

This wasn't something we observed occasionally while traveling in India. It was something we observed continually. Indian men who felt the urge urinated anywhere, without reservation, backs turned to the world, disregarding the consequences of their actions. We heard that the soil as well as the water have become subject to bacterial contamination.

The problem is also due to the lack of access to toilets in both urban and rural areas. Considering the abundance of Hindu shrines, current Prime Minister Narendra Modi was prompted to declare, "Toilets first and temples later." –Duke

What Is a Djinn?

We bought this Quranic teaching tablet depicting what we imagine is a djinni from Ensemble Artisinal, an artists' co-op, in Marrakesh for about $35.

Djinns, jinn, genies: Why we believe in these creatures from Arabic folklore.

I’m not typically someone who believes in the supernatural. I want to believe in ghosts, angels and the like. I just don’t think the evidence is there.

That being said, after our trip to Morocco, I do believe in djinn (also known as jinn or genies — djinni, jinni, genie in the singular). These magical creatures, created by Allah from “smokeless fire,” are talented shapeshifters, like Robin Williams’ genie in Aladdin. Supposedly some djinn are good — but most tend to be tricksters if not downright devious. They even get some shoutouts in the Quran.

“I ignored him and kept jabbing the blade into the ground.”

I learned about the prevalence of belief in djinn in present-day Morocco in Tahir Shah's excellent book, The Caliph's House, about renovating a house in Casablanca (inevitably drawing connections to that other famous tome — “It’s A Year in Provence for Morocco!”). The triad of servants who tremble in fear at the property’s local djinni are quite hilarious.

But we learned the hard way that there’s nothing funny about djinn.

The Cursèd Dagger

Sure, we joke about it now. But at the time, we were fully convinced there was a djinni responsible for the bizarre situation that took place as we tried to leave the country.

It was the first thing we purchased in the Marrakech souk, and I was quite excited about the find: a ceremonial dagger with a hilt made from the bone of a camel.

When it came time to pack up for our trip home, Duke held up the dagger in our room in the riad and said, “We’ll have to make sure this goes into the checked luggage.” Which is exactly where he put it.

The next morning at the airport, after we had checked our bags and were going through the X-ray machines, the attendant asked us to open our bag. Sitting right there on top was…the dagger.

We were told we could just go back and put the dagger into our checked luggage. Having seen the suitcase pass into the depths of the airport on a conveyor belt, I was skeptical.

“Let’s just prep another bag to check,” I told Duke. And of course we put the dagger in that bag (both Duke and I distinctly remember doing so), then waited in line back at check-in.

We found out it would cost us $75 or so to check another bag, so we decided to forgo that. Back in the room with the X-ray machines, I opened the bag…but couldn’t find the dagger anywhere inside.

Finally, in desperation, I opened our carry-on. Sure enough, right on top, sat the dagger. I could almost imagine a devious smile upon its surface.

And then, something came over me. I grabbed the dagger and started stabbing the floor.

“What are you doing?!” Duke shouted, horrified.

I ignored him and kept jabbing the blade into the ground.

“Wally! Stop it!” Duke implored.

“I just want the blade to break so I can at least keep the handle,” I explained, continuing my frenzy.

“You’ve got a knife out in a crowded airport!” Duke pointed out sensibly. “Do you want to get arrested?”

And then the spell broke. My head cleared, and I looked down at the dagger clutched in my hand.

“Oh my God,” I said, shuddering. “Let’s get rid of this.”

I marched over to a trashcan and tossed the cursèd thing inside.

“There was a djinni in there!” I whispered. “It didn’t want the blade to leave Morocco.”

Duke, wide-eyed and relieved, nodded in agreement.

So, no, we don’t believe in ghosts. But we do believe in djinn. –Wally

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How to Protect Yourself From Jinn and Black Magic

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The Best Place to Make Out in Public in Delhi

These elephants greet you upon entering the Garden of Five Senses in Delhi

Not a typical tourist stop, the Garden of Five Senses is a whimsical sculpture park worth visiting. It's also popular with local couples escaping societal judgment against PDA.

Congestion does not begin to describe traffic in Delhi. It follows its own logic, and yet somehow, miraculously, it works — blowing horns and all. A red light means you might want to consider stopping. Or not.

Driver: Obama came for visit. Business relationship is very good. China is very jealous.

“This was clearly a spot favored by amorous young couples.”

Wally noticed a sign for the Garden of Five Senses and we asked our driver to take us there. He referred to it as Honeymoon Park. He thought we were crazy to want to go there.

Young couples were aggressively pushing past us to purchase tickets to gain admission. In addition to admission fees for sites in India, many have an additional photography fee that you have to pay if you want to take pictures inside the site. We were not permitted to enter the park without a photography permit.

This was clearly a spot favored by amorous young couples to spend time away from the public eye, tucked into the privacy of shadowed archways or behind a curved wall, locked in an embrace and kissing. I felt that we had entered a subworld, as Indian society is generally conservative, especially in regards to public displays of affection. Ironically, there's a sign on the ticket kiosk exclaiming in capital letters, PLEASE MAINTAIN DECENCY.

Duke in the Garden of Five Senses. Note the couple(s) hidden in the nook below

A random highlight was a colorfully decorated camel, which is apparently available for rides.

Overall, the park is fun to explore, with a variety of styles of statues. You feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland, never knowing what lies ahead.

Children of the Street

Back in the car, two children performed on a narrow packed dirt median while our car was paused at a light. The young boy beat a tabla drum, while the young girl proceeded to execute three perfect back flips. Wally rolled down the window and gave her 4 rupees, which she took and ran ahead.

Our driver smiled and looked at Wally in the rearview mirror. He explained that the government pays for two children to go to school, but since families often end up having more than two children, the others are forced to beg for money. –Duke

“You feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland, never knowing what lies ahead.”

3 Tips for Hiring a Driver in India

In Baroda, as in all of India, you'll be sharing the road with cows

Commissions and conversations: what to expect from your hired drivers.

The next morning we enjoyed parantha and pao bhurji for breakfast. Our friend George later explained that pao means bun.

We followed the same routine as the day before and stopped by the tourist office above Amici Cafe, except that instead requesting a return to our hotel, we required transportation to the airport.

“As shocking as this might be, we decided to skip the Taj Mahal.”

We packed up our luggage and put it in the back. Our driver asked us where we wanted to go. We told him Qutb Minar and Hauz Khas Village. He asked why we wanted to go to Hauz Khas, telling us, “It's very expensive, no negotiation, fixed prices.” We told him that we were looking for handicrafts, preferably old and/or painted wood, and he assured us that he had a special place to take us to should we like.

You'll be taken to shops where they'll expect you to buy something — and will be upset if you don't.

We've come to accept that a hired driver is likely to take you to patronize businesses where they make a commission. The shop usually pays the guide if the tourist makes a purchase. In our case, we were a hard sell, and our driver was clearly expecting us to make more purchases. He would click his tongue when we left a shop he took us to empty-handed.

Sometimes it's easier to lie.

We were asked by both of our drivers how long we were going to be in India and if we had plans to see the Taj Mahal? As shocking as this might be, we decided to skip the Taj Mahal. We know it's the pride of India and all that — but we had other things we wanted to see on this trip. 

Almost everyone we met asked us if we were visiting the Taj, and we found it easier to lie and just say yes rather than face their indignation.

Don't let them tell you where to go.

We agreed to skip Hauz Khas (a decision we would live to regret), and our driver took us to a shop located beneath a flyover. According to the gentleman who greeted us, we were the first customers, and as such, he would offer us a very fair price. We politely told him that we were just looking and attempted to wander through unmolested. But this proved to be impossible as we were the sole customers.

We attempted to have a genuine conversation with our salesman, and he told us a story about a rabbit as big as a donkey.

The shop had many beautiful things, but most of them were at a price well above what we had been looking to spend. We did end up purchasing a figurine of Krishna and his consort Rada, though.

Tomb of Safdarjung in Delhi

The empty pool at Safdarjung's Tomb in Delhi, India reveals its neglected state

Safdarjung's Tomb is a less-busy attraction that's worth exploring.

We enjoyed this historical site immensely as it was less-visited than the other destinations we had been to. Built in 1754, the red and buff-colored sandstone mausoleum of Safdarjung's Tomb is the last grand tomb of late Mughal architecture. The majestic double-storied entrance gate, with its vaulted archway, created the perfect frame for the main tomb inside.

While previous, wealthier Mughal nobility used marble for their monuments, Safdarjung's son Shuja-ud-Daula plundered what he could from other nearby tombs, and the marble applied to the surface of the onion-shaped dome looks like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle with patches of pink sandstone showing through.

“The onion-shaped dome looks like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle with patches of pink sandstone showing through.”

At the center of the tomb is a large chamber with arched doorways which contains the white marble cenotaph of Safdarjung. It's eerie. 

A young boy plays with a wheel while a man uses his wheels to carry materials for restoration at the Tomb of Safdarjung

We wandered around and watched a young boy playing with a wheel he had found, treating it like the best toy ever. –Duke