Take, care
Although i’ve been in Gurgaon for over 2 years now, Sunday marked the first instance i visited Delhi for touristy excursions. Thanks to my…
Although i’ve been in Gurgaon for over 2 years now, Sunday marked the first instance i visited Delhi for touristy excursions. Thanks to my health issues, i avoid the sun as much as possible and most places are closed at evening. But then, this was a special event: A Pakistani friend of mine, on his maiden visit to India, was in the city for an academic gathering. Due to strict visa restrictions, he couldn’t visit Gurgaon so i had to take the metro. Lal Qila (Red Fort) was our point of contact.
With temperature soaring around 40 degrees, we met and got our entry passes. From outside, Red Fort is gorgeous as well as formidable. With the tricolor dancing to the breeze at top of the building, the view makes you feel good. While standing in the queue, we noticed marijuana in the moats around the fort. No kidding. A flush green view that would definitely make a stoner appreciate our world heritages more!
Anyway, coming to my friend, he’s the kind-hearted-and-very-curious-on-a-global-scale type. An avid traveler with ancestral roots in Lucknow, he is the one who’d wait and read every single plaque to know more about the monument. If you notice most of the desi tourists, they have little to no interest in learning the history they’ve come all the way from their homes to pay a visit to. Apparently, clicking pictures and uploading them on Facebook are more essential.
I digressed. Sorry.
So, the first gate in the fort — interestingly named Lahore Gate — caught our attention. Having visited almost all the major Mughal architectural wonders in Pakistan, my friend’s excitement was about to nose-dive. As we strolled from one historic construction to another, it did.
Overall, going by the abysmal standards of hygiene we have, the premise is well maintained. In spite of the crowd, there is barely any litter in place. The narrow pathways are nicely attenuated with greenery on both sides. The problem, according to my friend, lies in the negligence of the monuments—the main attraction itself. Turns out what lies inside the fort is what counts. It’s understandable why some edifices are off-limit to public. It’s a different story that a dried tree branch or a thin nylon rope tied across the entrance is supposed to keep people away.
At the permissible areas, one look at the surface and it won’t take an expert to acknowledge that we can do much better than this. The intricate carvings, the rich embellishments, the slabs, which were instituted half a millennium ago, are visibly damaged at some places. Yes, time does that to human endeavours but apparently, the Pakistani counterparts are doing better. A perfect quip: Centuries-old temples are still fabulous in India while those in our neighbouring country are crumbling.
Jokes aside, i am going by my friend’s words because he is not the one to discredit something just for the heck of it. In his view, the Lodhi Garden, much older than Red Fort, is in a more admirable shape. Longevity is the secret. We discussed Qutub Minar, built almost a millennium ago, too, and i showed off my trivia chops by informing him how that monument is basically looking after itself thanks to the ingenious use of misawite by its builders. I don’t know why i did that but i felt like dropping my half-baked mic… on my sunburned toes.
I’m not an expert in this field. Just relaying how i spent my weekend in a venue i wouldn’t have visited in a more favourable situation i.e. lunch at our place. In my defense, i am pro-heritage from a distance. I’m totally for building statues of our celebrated heroes from the past. We often hear arguments that we are a poor country and we can’t afford to spend money on trivial pursuits. Here’s the thing: We aren’t genuinely poor; just that the resources meant for the poor never reach them. The system is so entrenched in choking the disadvantaged that we’ve begun to accept that there is no alternative. Besides, using the “we are poor” argument is clichéd because expecting the funds meant for future-heritage construction to miraculously go to the poor is nothing short of a delusion. Every year, we declare a budget and every department is allotted enough. Besides, the anti-heritage brigade conveniently overlooks the revenue tourist attraction brings to the table.
Here’s the tougher part: All things discussed and done, even if the proposed statues are built, what’s the guarantee that we’ll take care of them? Going by the current yardstick, we are doing a miserable job. Also, how difficult is it to look after stuff that defines us? A sufficient amount of effort from those responsible for the preservation of our heritage could do the trick. Perhaps. Not sure though. What i’m sure about is there’s always space for improvement. Whatever we choose to do, we can’t turn our back on history, especially when we aren’t confident of the future that might embrace us.