Jama Masjid, Delhi

Hoping to catch the afternoon light for a bit of photography, we traveled to Jama Masjid at 4pm this afternoon.

We alighted at the eastern entrance. A teeming mass of humanity crushed us from all sides. Every imaginable item was on sale: colorful beaded shoes for little girls, water proof watches sitting in a kiddie pool, Adidas gym bags, Muslim hats.... I used David as shield for all oncoming human traffic as we sidestepped the rain puddles and fought our way through the throng.

I thought I had steeled myself to the poverty and agony of India. The walk to the masjid shocked me into understanding that there is so much more that I have not seen, so much more suffering that I do not recognize. Shrouded women extended their veils hoping for some charity. Lame and leprous men sat on the masjid steps hands reaching out. Children chased after us, touching my arm begging for chapati rupees. An old blind man made his way through the mob guided by a younger friend. In Aurangzeb's time, this area attracted horse sellers and jugglers: today shoe minders and beggars fill the space. The magnitude of need and suffering on this short stretch is unimaginable.

We walked around the masjid seeking a less crowded entrance. Two hundred rupees for the camera! We were ordered to remove our shoes. David was quickly put into a veshti. My arms were covered with a shawl.

Jama Masjid, India's largest mosque, was built in 1656 by the Emperor Shah Jahan. It took six years and 5,000 workers to construct, at a cost of nearly a million rupees. Its huge square courtyard can accommodate up to 20,000 people at Friday prayer sessions and at Id when it looks like a sea of worshippers.

We strolled around the courtyard, less crowded now and feeling more like a place of worship. Men sat on the sandstone steps, discussing among themselves, enjoying the afternoon. Women and children walked about. Elderly men chose their niches and watched as people walked by. Children ran around in groups. A row of Muslim men squat by the dukka (water tank) for their ritual ablutions.

It will never cease to amaze me that these historical monuments of beauty, now almost four hundred years old still serve their original purpose today. What a gift and legacy from the past! It is wretched that today, the stench of poverty pervades its environs. Shall this be our legacy?