The mistress of every conqueor

came across something very beautiful about Delhi..written by Perceval Landon..in 1906....Delhi, the mistress of every conqueror of India, Aryan or Afghan, persian, english or moghul, remains unconquered still. over twenty square miles of sun baked plain lie out the debris of her many pasts, relics of her dead and gone masters, some perfect still, some once more crumbling back into the levels of red-yellow marl that have alternately fed and housed, and fed and housed again forgotten generations of men. Yet Delhi lives. Like some huge crustacean, she has shed behind her own outgrown habitations, as she has crawled northwards from Tughlaqabad and Lalkot, through Dinpanah and Ferozabad, till the long, red lizard of the Ridge barred her way, and now she suns herself, a raffle of narrow and congested byways, beneath the crimson walls of ShahJehan's great palacefort. But Delhi is more than her streets and temples.....awesome.....truly awesome....very poetic....