Delhi is the pride of north India and the capital city. It is a political center and an important commercial place as well. It houses millions of people from different backgrounds and culture, yet the harmony is omnipresent. The city seems to suffer from multiple personality disorder to a first-time tourist. At one glance, it will appear like any other bustling Indian city with rubbles of crowd, dust and traffic. But if you take a closer look, you will find a really different culture and uniqueness true to its image.

And again, the historical cloak which the city wears all the time makes it one of the most history-rich destinations in the world.  I was then escorted into a convoy Bentley that took me from Pall Mall to Oxford Street, where I ensued to take the underground (to the English this means the subway).  I was given instructions to stay on the train until the last stop, and a man would escort me to an undisclosed location.  I then stayed on the train, when suddenly, the conducter came out and announced, “Last stop.”  With this, the lights on the train went out, and I found myself alone, in the dark, not knowing where I was or what was going to happen.

    The elevator creeped down to the only level, which was another way of saying the lowest level, which, according to Shankara, was five hundred feet below sea level.     The door opened.     “Oh my GOD!” was all I could say… A tour of Delhi would be incomplete with visiting the memorials of national leaders. The simple elegance of a black stone marks the cremation site of Mahatma Gandhi, the Rajghat.

Nearby are other memorials, Shanti Van (Pandit Nehru), Shakti Sthal (Indira Gandhi), Vijay Ghat (Lal Bahadur Shastri) and Vir Bhumi (Rajiv Gandhi). For your stay, there are  plenty of options for accommodation from top-end luxury hotels, mid-rung and budget hotels, luxury resorts, lodges and guest houses.     “My name is Shankara, a simple yet inquisitive what they call one-point of the Order,” he replied rather obtusely, like some kind of zen monk.  “I am here to take you to the Headquarters of the heathrow hotels, and ultimately to show you the heathrow airport hotels.”     Shankara then led me off the train and brought me down a long, rat- and feces-infested tunnel.  And then it appeared: an elevator at the end of the tunnel.  Shankara smoothly limped up to this strange apparatus, pressed a button and then gestured me to enter.  I nervously obliged.

There is something special about the chaos in Chandni Chowk that you would not see in any other city in India. The area is redolent with perfumes and aroma of irresistible food wafting from tiny restaurants  celebrated by foodies. There are jostling crowds, rickshaws scampering by, music and the occasional cow in the middle of a narrow lane. Yet once you mingle into the atmosphere, the fun will begin.

Within that anarchy, resides poetry. If you ask for Gali Qasim Jaan in Ballimaran, you will see the house where Mirza Ghalib penned some of the most beautiful ghazals. The museum showcases letters written by  Ghalib, call girls in gurgaon last photograph of the poet, his life history, some of his couplets, books,  and some personal belongings, a statue of the poet in a realistic setting with a hookah in his hand.

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