Jama Masjid, these days

A look at how an imposing Mughal-era monument is affected by the pandemic

pressing in like an unexpected guest in a family gathering. Indeed, the small puffs of dark clouds floating above seem so close to the mosque’s upper limits that they feel like a ghostly extension of its architectural elements.

Perhaps the most eye-catching, if not the most attractive, object here is a red plastic bin placed at the center of the courtyard. It’s looking so out of place in this edifice of immaculate aesthetics that one can’t help but keep turning to look at it, much the way one’s tongue inadvertently keep going back to feel the aching tooth.

The long balcony beside the mosque’s gate no. 1 is usually always teeming with people. Today it is crowded —with three men. One of them is sleeping. Now a fourth man in white kurta pajama enters the mosque and purposefully heads towards this balcony. He sits with his back against the stone railing and stays still, looking like a figure in a Mughal miniature.

Further ahead is the ticket booth to the mosque’s tower. The sign board is in a series of foreign languages. The four instructions to the tower’s visitors are only in English though; the last one says that “unaccompanied woman and child are not allowed to visit the tower.” (The tower hasn’t opened to visitors yet).

Outside the gate 1, the staircase overlooking the chaotic Matia Mahal Bazar would always be packed with locals, sightseers, hawkers, beggars, and cats. It is empty.

Hopefully these difficult days too will pass over, and Jama Masjid, like all timeless monuments, will once again transcend its present and regain its former life.