Khirki Masjid

Why is it that after going through painful hours of searching for a monument, it always ends up sitting right in front of me the whole time? When I find it, I realize I’ve already walked all around it, never taking that final turn to get me there.It reminds of an old Hindi saying 'Chirag tale andhera', (there is always darkness under a lamp).

One April afternoon, I was looking for directions to Saket Mall on Google Maps. Across the road from the mall, I noticed Khirki Mosque written in large letters. I was intrigued but did not expect much. Being so close to the mall, I figured it would already have been a local attraction if it was anything great. But for a lark, I pulled up the satellite image. Here is what I saw:

In the middle of a lot of cramped housing, there was this big, square structure with a collection of what looked like honeycombs. It was far more interesting than I had expected. I recognized the cupola shaped domes of the Tughlaq period that won me over at Begumpur Mosque. There has always been a strange appeal in their symmetry, monotony and ugliness. They look so bland forming the sides of a square at Begumpur Mosque but here, they looked better. I decided to go there immediately.

That afternoon, with the sun beating down hard, I took an auto over to the Saket Mall. The satellite image had made Khikri Mosque out to be huge, so I didn’t think it would be difficult to find at all. After reaching the mall, I asked someone for directions and with the auto on meter, I was sent into the Hauz Rani village, a collection of narrow alleys surrounded by high four to five storey buildings with no space between them. As you can probably guess, we were soon lost. After a while, I asked again and was told that the entrance was down a side alley. I asked the auto to wait and walked down the street. In two minutes, I was out on the main road and again staring at the Saket Mall. As I walked back, I asked another man, who very authoritatively sent me down a new side alley. This one, after a 10 minute walk, led me right to Max Hospital. Of course I lost my way back. By the time I found it, the auto had already been waiting over 15 minutes. Apologizing to the driver, I asked him to get out of the alleys and back to the main road. Maybe a fresh look from outside would help.

Right next to Saket Mall, I could see two devoutly attired Muslims walking purposefully along the road.

'Where is the Khirki Masjid?'

After silently appraising me and almost staring me down, one of them asked me, 'What will you do there?'

'It is a historic place, I want to have a look.' I said

'We do not know.' He closed the conversation.

Ok, so you do not know where it is but you want to police it. Anyway, I climbed back into the auto and asked another pair of men for directions. They sent me in a direction which was completely counter intuitive but what the hell, maps are so often wrong. Who knows? This time I found myself in front of a 20 year old whitewashed wall enclosing a very recent and fully active mosque. I guess if I was looking to pray this would have been the time.

Again we came back to the main road and asked directions and again we were sent to Hauz Rani. That was all I could take. I abandoned the my goal and instead checked out what I later learned is the Satpula on Press Enclave Road. After two hours and 170 rupees I had come to know exactly where not to find Khirki Masjid. Where to find it had to wait. I had appointments to keep, yes there is a life outside of Delhi's spirit world.

Then a couple of weeks ago, almost three months to the day, I set out with a friend to renew the search for the mosque. I was pretty much without hope. Khiriki and Hauz Rani are urban mazes, to expect to find something there would be silly. Maybe my opinion was coloured by my previous experience. This time though, we approached from the east (instead of west) and let the auto off just in front of the mall. Using an Eicher map for navigation, we entered a narrow alley and after a few steps asked a shopkeeper for directions. Very confidently, he told us to walk back a little, take a right and walk down that alley for about 30 metres. I was sceptical. The path passed through private courtyards. At one point, it almost seemed like we had reached a dead end in the large open courtyard of someone's house. But, after looking around a little, we found an exit to our right. And all of a sudden, like a swift kick to the chest, there it was.

The entry gate with sloping walls and minarets.

In the middle of a cluster of houses stood a huge structure. I was so excited I could have run to the entrance screaming for joy. I managed to hold it in for a fast walk to the entrance. As I looked to my left from the entrance, there it was, the @#$#@#$!!!!, Saket Mall. The mall was all of 30 metres away from where I was and yet the small street which led to the mosque was barely visible.

As we entered from the gateway the stink of bat shit was all pervading. This 14^th century mosque, said to have be one of the seven mosques been built by Khan-i-Jahan Mahbub Tilangani, the Prime Minister of Muhammad and Firoz Tughlaq, is the only covered mosque in India. Except four square courtyards, each of which, judging by the slope and drains, were used for ablutions before prayer, it is covered. A plus shaped walkway lined by huge pillars forms the centre. On the north eastern edge, the roof was caved in. It was from here that I saw the remains of the domes that had originally enticed me to start this journey. Looking from below, the ceiling is plastered with rubble and lime to fill the domes on the inside and it is difficult to imagine the domes that sit atop the roof.

On of the four ablution courtyards

The maze of pillars

Caved in roof at the North Eastern end

 On my second visit I found my way to the roof. In an attempt to get a picture of as many domes as possible in one shot, I used my newly acquired climbing skills (thank you IMF for your crappy practice wall) to climb the southernmost dome. Nothing I tried allowed me to take a picture of the domes as I wanted it. I want a bird's eye view of the mosque but much clearer than the satellite image. Nothing in the surroundings (mostly houses at a distance of anywhere between three to five metres from the mosque walls) were high enough to let me do that.

The top view

Thats the best I could do for the domes

There are 85 domes (or used to be before one of the sides caved in). Or 89 counting the ones on the four minarets. And finally, from atop the difficultly climbed dome, I could see, Guess What? THE SAKET MALL! I wondered , as I often do, if seven centuries from now people with cameras in their hands and wanderlust in their hearts will climb atop the ruined roofs of such malls and wonder at how these ugly monstrosities came to a pass.