There are many ways to understand
a city. Data and statistics on economic trends, demographic analyses and socio-political
perspectives proffer intriguing insights into all that contributes towards a
city’s dynamics. Studying a city through these tools lends the results so
obtained an almost clinical precision, providing scope for debates and
deliberations. But there is another, diametrically opposite, vantage point
where a city can be observed from. This method is about understanding a city through
the people who reside in it, their lives and their stories, linked inevitably
to that of the city. The city that this piece of writing focuses on is Delhi, attempting
to understand as to who a ‘Dilliwallah’
– the real resident of Delhi – is, who qualifies to be called one and what sets
him or her apart.
Delhi has, for millennia – documented
and imagined – acted as the nodal center where the collective destinies of the
entire Indian subcontinent and the millions living within have collided and
concurred, acquiring a resonance with India’s eclectic identity in the bargain.
Delhi has always been the political center, nurturing dynasties, destitution
and all that lies between them. Delhi remains one of the most populous cities
in the country, loved and hated with equal passion. Whoever has been part of
the ‘Delhi experience’ has much to share about the city, ranging from exciting
to outrageous. Delhi, not unlike many other urban conglomerates, is one city
containing several others within it. Each of these ‘Delhis’ came up because of
different socio-political compulsions, occupy different positions in the
chronological order and are emblematic of different aspects of the city’s
multi-hued existence. None of these smaller Delhis is buried in the recesses of
an obscure past but are alive and active. These smaller Delhis are all entwined,
overlap with each other in an almost rhythmic manner and come together to make
up the grand narrative that the city stands for.
Delhi has always been the
outsider’s city. It is very easy to stride in and find some space amongst its
multitudes and, then, graduate to affectionately calling it your home. And it
has been this way for centuries. It, thus, belongs to nobody and everyone. Historically
speaking, the earliest city that came into existence within Delhi’s present
political boundaries was the capital built by the Tomar rulers and later
nurtured by the Chauhan Rajputs and stood at what we today know as the Qutb
complex. Quila Rai Pithora, as it was called during Prithvi Raj Chauhan’s
reign, was invaded and captured by Mohammed Ibn Sam’s army. With this Islam arrived
in mainland India and the new city of Lal Kot rose up at the same site where Quila
Rai Pithora once stood. The descent of the original residents, who were largely
Hindus and Jains, is practically untraceable. Lal Kot became the first epicenter
of what manifested itself as the Delhi Sultanate. Siri, Tughlaqabad, Jahanpanah
and Ferozabad, all lie within modern-day Delhi and were built in continuation
of the same story. Humayun, the Mughal emperor, built the city of Dinpanah
(which we today know as Purana Quila), adding another epoch to this legacy. There
were several reasons why people kept returning here in search of the perfect
site for their capital city. Delhi was centrally located and close to the
northern plains, lay along the course of Yamuna and fell on the international
trade route.
What is important to note is that
none of the cities mentioned above exist anymore. They all stand as protected
monuments, under the care of the Archaeological Survey of India. They were all
meant to be fortified structures, big enough for a few thousand people – who
were required for the functioning of the capital – to live in. There is no
habitation left in these places. Around independence, most of them were
surrounded by villages that were far newer in comparison. Mehrauli, where the Qutb
Minar stands, can boast of residents with a fairly ancient ancestry, but it’s
hard to establish if they have descended from the very people who once dwelt
within the gigantic walls of Lal Kot. The life of the common man living in
these cities has been sporadically documented, relegating much of it to the
domain of conjecturing. We’re talking about variations in demographics, ethnic
concentration and migration and settlement patterns over an incredibly long period
of close to a thousand years. That, too, of a region that has faced some of the
worst kinds of invasions and armed struggles, stimulated by political upheavals
of all varieties. It is, therefore, difficult to identify any one group that
may lay claim on the city of Delhi in terms of nativity.
No comments:
Post a Comment