The story of a Muslim family in the Walled City of Delhi from around 1910 to 1920 or so. The book pays homage to a lost world: a world in which, among other things, conversations regularly quoted the classic poets, a world where many kept pigeons and flew them. The nostalgia permeates the story of the patriarch, Mir Nihal, and his family. His younger son, Asghar, declares he must marry a woman he knows next to nothing about—or he will commit suicide. Friends and relatives and servants and neighbors appear, disappear, and reappear. Ali depicts the life of a Muslim family at an important juncture in history: you see how life is changing, with a sometimes implicit, sometimes explicit criticism of the role of British colonialism. Much of the book deals with the irretrievable: the disappearing rituals, manners, and beliefs of a life. Ali shows how the pain of a people deeply wedded to religion and their way of life confronting the hard-boiled science of an alien culture and that culture as well. And for all their flaws—and they are not ignored—you can’t help but sympathize with Mir Nihal and his family as their world crumbles. (Although it’s not particularly relevant, the introduction tells a long and fascinating story about the very long journey the manuscript took in order to eventually find publication despite being championed vigorously by E.M. Forster.) ( )

A window to a world forgotten. Read like an author trying to impress by emulating. ( )

This book has been on my 'To read' list since two years now. William Dalrymple mentioned this book in 'City of Djinns'. Indeed book is a classic - it chronicles the period when last Mughal king had collapsed, his relations reduced to beggars and maids and coronation of King George is about to take place. It is set in part of Delhi - we now know as old Delhi. It chronicles the lives and times of Nihal family. The pigeon flying days, days when people were still learning to get accustomed to foreign rule. As always, there are apples who kowtow to whoever rules and those who can't breathe in air that is devoid of freedom. The book also reminded me of M. S. Sathyu's 'Garam Hawa' focusing on lives of Balraj Sahni's family. Only a different period.

'Twilight of Delhi' was once published with support from likes of E. M. Forester and Virginia Woolf. I read it as a chronicle of period. As a story is it very sluggish, really nothing to impart other than general sense of pessimism, which is understandable. It is interspersed with lots of poems, alas, none of which appeal to me in English as they would have had they been in Hindi and Urdu. But yes, I can tick off another Delhi classic on my list. ( )

Richly atmospheric but a complete downer. Change and decay; death and loss. To be read only on a bright sunny day, preferably in a deck chair with a gin and tonic in hand.

Un romanzo che presenta un bellissimo affresco dell'India e una Delhi ottocentesca ricca di suggestioni e di poesia. Una Delhi assai diversa da quella di oggi e che ci viene offerta dalla moderna letteratura indiana come rumorosa e brulicante, contraddittoria e in rapida espansione. In queste pagine troviamo povertà e bellezza, il profumo incantevole del gelsomino e degli incensi, insieme al fetore dei vicoli, le voci di mendicanti e venditori, il verso degli stormi di uccelli sui tetti. Un coro di voci umane e animali, le esistenze di un gruppo di abitanti nell'età della colonizzazione inglese. Incanta sopra ogni cosa l'intreccio mirabile delle culture persiana, araba e hindu che si fondono in un'unica raffinata espressione. ( )