The Gate on a Tuesday Morning
You arrive before the heat sets in, sometime around eight, and the first thing you notice is that you can actually see the gate. The Buland Darwaza stands there without a crowd pressing against it, its white marble catching the early light, and you walk through without being carried by the current of other bodies. The narrow lane from Dargah Bazaar is open enough that you can choose your pace. Vendors are arranging rose garlands and chadar offerings along the sides, unhurried, calling out without urgency. A man is hosing down the stone floor of the outer courtyard. The dargah is working, not performing.
