Two Didi’s explore delicious and delightful Delhi 🇮🇳

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We have been inundated with warm welcomes and kindness - we can’t believe the gentleness of the people in Delhi. Not what we were told on Reddit! Our expectations had been filled with chaotic bazaars and pushy vendors, but we couldn’t have asked for more patient and friendly people as we’ve made our way around the city. The weirdest interaction of our trip so far was genuinely a Cornish man called Dom, who had apparently made his fortune in Reading, whom kept showing us pictures of topless women in New Orleans. Another early-on and hilarious moment was the flight attendant saying to Hattie ‘Sir, can you please put your seat up’ - weirdly this is not the first time Hattie has been mistaken for a man and it really cracks Grace up. Our drivers have helped us more than we can say! Not only have they waited for us at every stop we’ve been to and are extremely respectful of our space, time and what we want to see. They have facilitated all our entrances to monuments and we have been grateful for Pradeep and Sonnu’s gentle nature compared to our western overpolite chaotic frazzled way.

There’s so much beauty it can be hard to take it all in, also owed to an overload of all our senses. We have both been very taken by the light especially and Grace’s reaction to the red sunrise was very special. Painting and drawing have been perfect ways of processing all the sights, temples and gardens. It feels like a form of meditating on one moment, rather than rushing through the different attractions. We sat by a tree in the archaeological site, Qutub Minar, on our first solo outing for over an hour recording it in our mini notebook and Grace’s mini watercolour kit. Two very very sweet little girls came over calling us “didi” meaning older sister, which we were very touched by. The most strange and exciting part was how different the nature is in India. Usually when we go abroad to Europe, the trees, plants and animals are all the same - but going to the gardens surrounding the Qutub Minar, we saw trees, flowers, birds and squirrels of species we have never in our lives encountered. It’s so special to get off a plane and be dropped into a totally different environment. We have really been reflecting on the privilege of travel and how these ‘alien’ places will expand our minds and facilitate our growth in understanding cultures so different from our own. Hattie thought a man was talking about goats and got excited but he was actually talking about God, so that was quite embarrassing for whitey silly girl.


Auntie Krishna and Uncle ID have warmly embraced us as soon as we landed. It has continued to be a peaceful, calm and loving environment compared to the bustle of the city. The love language has proven to be food, from the second we passed over the threshold of their lovely apartment we have been inundated with sugary assam tea, Indian sweets, fresh papaya, guava, oranges from Abohar, homemade kidney been stew, chapati, muttar paneer with in season peas and home made paneer, chaat masala, dry lentil chana, raita, masala dosa, sesame aloo, cumin cauliflower, tikka paneer, masala lemonade, sweet lime soda, pani puri, garlic naan- and that’s honestly not even everything! They ask us frequently if we like it with concern, and swiftly laugh at our very very happy faces, the cheeks of which are soon stuffed full with incredible flavours and textures. We couldn’t have asked for kinder, more generous, special hosts, which we are so grateful.

If you curate Grace into a location it would be Haldiram’s - an Indian chain restaurant of our dreams. There we met Grace’s Auntie Reetika and her daughter Ciara. We laughed and chatted about how Grace reminded them of her dad and how up until that point their whole relationship had consisted of Facebook updates. Auntie and Uncle found it very funny how much we enjoyed the food and how Grace had no intention of getting married any time soon. Seeing them with their youngest granddaughter was so lovely as they pinched her cheeks and cupped her face, telling her they would follow her wherever she decided to go for her birthday. Like English teenagers, she shrugged them off but halfheartedly -sparking our own conversation about teenage angst being universal but the Indian love for family being a truly heartwarming overtone even with the stresses of puberty! This also really brought to surface sentiment for our own families. They also found it hilariously scandalous and exciting how we both drink alcohol and fervently offered us a Kingfisher beer to share when Uncle got out his nightly Scotch. Auntie has never had an alcoholic beverage, and it shows, she is so beautiful and calm. Indian women in general are so cool and chilled it reminds us how scatty we are ha! Hattie especially thinks uncle’s kashmir pheran is f***ing chic and neeeedddhhhs one. Very obsessed with the room the garment allows for a pot filled with hot charcoal to be held underneath to warm the wearer. The morning after our first night we heard a call outside and Grace asked Uncle if it was the call to prayer - he answered no it was just the newspaper vendor doing his rounds. We have good intentions but I must say - we don’t know shit!

Grace has really loved feeling part of the racial majority, blending into the crowds of Indian people - whilst Hattie is standing out with her blonde locks! It’s really nice to feel like one of many - something Grace didn’t even notice she’d enjoy - after years of living in a majority white country. Auntie Krishna said she looks like she could be from Delhi if it wasn’t for her English accent. In other news, Hattie forgot deodorant and has smelled like a chicken tikka all day. Genuinely. She’s assimilating hardcore and becoming one with the land.

Today we went to one of the best museums we’ve ever been to, The Indira Ghandi Museum. It gave us our first stark taste of India’s ruptured political identity and colonial past, representing the dichotomy of her beauty and complications in her exquisite taste displayed in her own daily possessions and power of her written word and speeches. We were touched by the crystal memorial of her last steps and where she had fallen after being assassinated, marked by a crystal sheet. Of note was the repeated iconography of textiles as autonomous players themselves as symbols of India’s independence, but also violence. We saw the remains of her son’s trousers after his assassination via bomb and Indira’s blood stained sari. The rooms in her house were left untouched with all her books still on the shelves of her study, her pencils, scrabble set, hairbrush and slippers placed as though she would wander back in at any moment. The evolution of the rooms were accompanied by a detailing of her daily routine - exercises, breakfast, meetings - followed by the path she took outside where she was shot. Her pride for India filled Grace and Hattie with a deep gratitude to be experiencing the country she lived and died for.

We also wandered through the Hauz Khas Village. This was one of two times where Hattie should have stayed in the car as we had to pay an extortionate foreigners ticket price. However she views this good naturedly as retribution for Britain’s colonial past. The second time was when we were buying flowers at a road side stall for Uncle and Auntie and Hattie’s blonde hair promptly doubled the price so Sonnu told us to wait in the car. The village was surrounded by a big lake and tiny squirrels scurried around the mosaics and higgledy piggery brickwork - which we read used to be painted white with gold domes.

Starting to feel a little jet lagged, we started hunting for coffee. Sonnu kindly lead us to a Chinese restaurant, which we graciously declined as they only sold paneer noodles. We wandered through Lodhi Gardens and watched some men playing guitar and singing in a nearby temple. Hattie used her first squat toilet and loved every second but her silly tassel top might have got a little bit of piss on it oops! Our stomachs have been absolutely fine as we’ve been eating the freshest ingredients this whole trip so far. We went to Sarvana Bhawan for lunch - the best dosas in the city! We queued for half an hour in a crowd of people pressed up against the glass of the busiest restaurant we’d seen so far. It was 100% worth it with the best lunch ever, such delicious sambar and dips to go with Hattie’s paneer and Grace’s masala dosa. Hattie also had a gorgeous pineapple fresh juice which really hit the spot. Sonnu told us about his two children (which we initially mistook for two wives, which he found very funny) and told us about his home Lucknow. He didn’t speak much English but human connection is truly through kind eyes and smiles.

First two days have been the best tonic for far too many months traipsing around cold overpriced England! We are grateful for how present we are in all of our moments in this beautiful country.

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Photos

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Two badasses