Stepping out of my accommodation, Zostel Hostel, into a 16°C Delhi morning, I was eager to witness some bustling street activity. Little did I know, "bustling" would be a major understatement for what I was about to experience. I should have braced myself, because my destination—Chandni Chowk Market—was not just one of the oldest but also the busiest market in a city known as one of the most crowded in the world.
Crowd Surfing: Navigating the Labyrinth of Chandni Chowk
Chandni Chowk, located near the Old Delhi Railway Station and the Red Fort, whose massive walls stood at its eastern end, was built in the seventeenth century by Shah Jahan, the Mughal Emperor of India and the builder of the Taj Mahal.
Originally designed as a half-moon-shaped plaza with a man-made channel sourcing water from the Yamuna River by Shah Jahan's daughter Jahanara, Chandni Chowk already housed over one thousand five hundred shops where traders have set up bazaars selling silver — thus earning the market the moniker of "Silver Street." Aside from the hundreds, if not thousands, of shops and restaurants, Chandni Chowk Market was surrounded by a slew of historic buildings. The most popular, the 1650-built Jama Masjid, was said to be one of India's largest mosques.
A Tangled Web of Humanity
Even though the heart of the market was at least two kilometers away from Zostel, a few hundred meters had me already counting small pockets of marketplaces. The crowd thickened as I walked further. I soldiered on, and after half an hour, I began to feel the pulse of Chandni Chowk as the yells of traders bargaining with shoppers grew louder.
Walking through the labyrinth of this seventeenth-century Chandni Chowk market could overwhelm you at first. However, once the shock of the crowd and the noise wore off, you would find yourself enjoying the variety of items for sale here. You could find everything from silver and antique trinkets, jewelry, hanging lights, festive textiles, to electronic gadgets, custom tailored suits, and up to one thousand different kinds of sarees just to list a few.
That is, if you could easily get from point A to point B, which in Chandni Chowk looked like crossing an ocean — except it was a sea of human bodies gyrating in every direction, along with the occasional wandering cows, tuk-tuks, delivery trucks, and private automobiles whose drivers were crazy enough to pass through the market's busy thoroughfare.
My favorite part was the Khari Baoli Market, which had a vibrant fusion of colors from spices, nuts, tea leaves, dried plums, and mulberries, as well as emitting an aroma of everything combined. I resisted buying some spices as I still had to spend several days in Pushkar after my Delhi side trip.
As I made my way back to the hostel, I remembered the Spanish backpacker I met in Jaisalmer with my friend Aileen during my first trip to India in 2014. He was telling another European traveler and us about Mumbai. "You can't find a place to stand,” he said. "Everywhere you go is crowded."
On that same trip, we went to Mumbai, and I found the city to be exactly what I expected it to be: teeming with people. While I truly thought his description bordered on exaggeration, I finally got the gist of the image he was describing as I slowly made my way through the market's sea of humanity. That morning at Chandni Chowk Market, I literally had to find enough space to wiggle my legs and gain some distance. This was India in its purest and most authentic form, I told myself.
