Walking in the Old City
As
we walked around the Masjid building, a proverbial parikrama, two aunties
over-took us – spring in their steps. Clad in burquas and holding bright coloured
sports-shoes in hands; they left us surprised and with smiles. There was something
about this sight which conveyed that the world around is neither constant nor
boring, all we need is to keep our senses open. At a corner another aunty we saw sitting on a
bench with her two small hand-bags for company. With interest and peace levels
that are not common at public spaces she was engaged with the bags. She
reminded me of dadi and I kept watching as she got a bottle from one of the
bags and sipped water. As we walked ahead two other aunties sat on the floor
between the Masjid wall and its boundary wall as the children played in the
shade. Was the Masjid’s compound too being encroached at some point of time, I
wondered, like that of Khilwat. Such an unimaginative boundary – in either case
- and a tad too small for the large, and grand as Fatehpur Sikri structures,
walls of the Masjid.
These
walls had greenery sprouting out from the cracks. Only unplanned greenery could
have enhanced the beauty of these walls thus. Mynas in particular surrounded
these. Sparrows we heard a plenty from within the structure while pigeons were
in large numbers in the compound, gorging on the jowar people got for them. One
bag that we noticed had 5 odd kg grains! These pigeons have ensured that the
famed chandeliers remain covered for most of the year; I recalled reading in
the news-paper. It was fun to see children watching from a distance,
tentatively moving towards the pigeons and getting stunned as the pigeons took
their flight! Nicer still to see parents silent and not advising children! We
have enough and more of adults volunteering to advise younger ones!
By
Anoopratnaker (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
After
the now customary or compulsory tea and osmania biscuits at Nimrah – well, two
rounds in either case - we went to the Sunday market. So much of what we do not
use, do not need can be sold off rather than being trashed. So many people are
able to get what they want, at rates they can afford. Two previous trips I had
been unsuccessful at getting the mugs that had left me fascinated, more on
account of my awful negotiation skills than else. After slowly walking with
wide eyes along the market that surprised every few minutes we took the turn
for the Mir Alam Mandi. This vegetable market I was first acquainted with
during an exciting heritage walk and recall being fascinated with an old gate –
weathered with time - that still stands. Mir Alam Mandi has vegetables in
quantity and spread that make vegetable lovers get happily busy. At corners,
goats were nibbling the vegetables or their parts that would be neither sold
nor eaten by humans.
The
last time we had walked the road the number of Bengali tailor shops sewing
burquas had had me intrigued. Bengali tailors in old city specializing in
burquas! While I have not move ahead on that front I spotted a text on a board which
I assumed was Bengali and some stunning rosogullas followed. I have not had
such stunning while balls in syrup since long. We had come to the right place
and found another sweet excuse to visit the locality more frequently.While I
was reminded of our once favourite line ‘All
good things happen by chance’, it also struck me that while this is true we
also need to give chance a chance.
Earlier posts on similar lines:
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