Istanbul

Istanbul had offered its first glimpse from the air, stretching on the shores of the Sea of Marmara, in green, red and white. I had little time to read up some guidebook before leaving Mumbai. Time was short. Next day, early in the morning, I had to leave for Dalaman. Thankfully, the most famous landmarks of Istanbul are located very close to each other, in Sultanahmet. This is the place which used to be Constantinople. Starting off from the airport, the Havas bus rushed through the avenues, lined with flowers, revealing a city very much European in its look. This was my first trip abroad. Therefore, what I consider to be European is certainly not based on experience, but on impressions developed from secondary sources. I was uncertain what to expect from the city that had been the centre of Christianity during the Byzantine Empire, then of the Islamic world during the Ottoman Sultanate, and over the last century searching for a new identity under the modernisation drive initiated by Ataturk.





The walls of the Hagia Sophia are like pages of history, bearing the marks of the great empires which have ruled over it. Sometimes I find that I have an aversion to being amazed at first glance. The gigantic basilica is an outstanding architectural achievement. When I stepped into the historic monument, my immediate reaction was not that of awe (contrary to what one reads in guidebooks), but an eagerness to understand its place in history, as if looking for evidence to convince myself about its greatness. That's not so difficult, once it is realised that its a structure dating back not to a few centuries, but 1400 years. From 552 AD, it has stood witness to rise and fall of civilisations on the shores of the Bosphorus, built as a church and then converted into a mosque. If I had a lot more time in hand, I could have spent hours gazing at the mosaics of Jesus and Christian saints, the fine carvings on granite, the motifs and Arabic calligraphy on the dome and the stained glass windows of the Ottomans. The marble pedestal of the imperial door bears another mark of thousand years
gone by - a depression caused by the chariot wheels of the Byzantine emperors.







A stone's throw from the Hagia Sophia stands the Blue Mosque. One has to walk past a host of souvenir shops, simit stalls and a beautiful garden to reach the mosque complex. Ramzan festivities were on, and the mosque complex had come alive with a small fair. I bought a miniature handbag, the Ottoman tughra printed on it, to take back as a gift. Inside it was a small book, having hundreds of pages, printed in minute Arabic font. I was told that it was the entire Quran!

I had reached the Blue Mosque just in time. There was still half an hour left before the prayer would begin, when visitors would be asked to leave. The building derives its name (rather nickname, the actual name being Sultanahmet Camii) from the tiles and stained glasses inside. The interior bears the stamp of imperial Ottoman grandeur. Like so many other tourists, I sat down on the carpeted floor for a while, to contemplate the motifs on Iznik tiles and the intricate decorations on the dome. The most fascinating aspect of the Blue mosque is the stained glass windows. I'm sure the photo would express a lot more than I can write in words.







However, the status of Blue Mosque as the most iconic structure in Istanbul is somewhat unfortunate. That honour should undoubtedly go to the Hagia Sophia. It eclipses the Blue Mosque both in art and architecture, and bears the enviable stamp of a remote antiquity.

Coming out of the Blue Mosque, I once again caught a glimpse of the Bosphorus, and made up my mind that I must reach its shore before evening. Behind the mosque courtyard is the enchanting Araasta Bazar. This extremely colourful place portrays the cultural synthesis in its full glory. The Orient comes alive in a Western backdrop.









There was a contentment that I had achieved the minimal target for the day of visiting the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque, though in a haste. Anyway, there was a lot more to be seen. So I asked people around and set off for the Hippodrome. Most people don't understand English. Some of them do know 'I can't speak English'! However, the language barrier turns out not be a problem, and people make themselves understood someway or the other. What I experienced more than once in Turkey is that if you ask for directions, people will not only make signs to guide you, but may also escort you some distance towards the destination.

The Hippodrome (arena for chariot races in the Byzantine Empire) is now a huge square with a sprawling lawn. Ramzan festivities were in full swing, and there were tables and benches all over with people crowding around them. A host of food stalls had been set up. I didn't realise then that this was all for the occasion of Ramzan. On my way back from the conference (the reason for visiting Turkey was to attend a conference at Turunc, in the South Aegean region of Turkey), I would find this place empty, and the Blue Mosque courtyard deserted.



On the Hippodrome complex stands a granite obelisk with Hieroglyph inscriptions. It looked quite new, making me wonder why such an Egyptian looking thing had been installed in the heart of Istanbul. Then Lonely Planet informed me that it was 3500 years old. It originally stood at the Temple of Karnak in Egypt, and had been brought to Constantinople by the Byzantine emperor Theodosius in 330 A.D.

It was time to head for the Bosphorus by the tram to Eminonu (after having a wonderful glass of fresh orange juice at a roadside stall). So far, everything had gone as planned. A walk by the Bosphorus would be a fitting end to the day. The Bosphorus is 2 km wide. Although both shores are a part of Turkey, this channel is considered to be international waters, providing passage for ships from the Black Sea in the north. I headed towards the small bridge connecting Eminonu to Kabatas, when I heard someone calling out 'Bosphorus cruise.. last boat ...10 lira...' There couldn't be any second thought. I jumped onto the boat and took a seat on the deck. Istanbul resembled some painting. The city has grown on low hills by the sea. The minarets of the Blue mosque were silhouetted against the sun. The Bosphorus breeze was getting colder. My windcheater was tucked away in my transit luggage at the airport. The boat guided down the waters between Europe and Asia, with remarkably beautiful buildings on either side... Ottoman palaces, villas, mosques, modern art galleries.. The city skyline in the distance is dominated by some towering minarets. This may have been the exact sight sailors a few centuries ago would have witnessed while approaching Constantinople.







The boat turned back from the Bosphorus bridge. The sun had now vanished. The wind grew colder. A new image was revealing itself. With the fall of darkness, the lights of the city came up. The Asian and European sides lit up, along with the street-lights on the Bosphorus bridge. The city had taken on a different look.







Once I came back to Eminonu, it was time for a fish sandwich. This is a Bosphorus speciality, served by cooks wearing traditional Turkish costume. Within two hours, I would be back at the Istanbul Ataturk Havalimani, trying to get some sleep sitting on a chair. The next ten days would be spent beside the Mediterranean Sea.