When people talk about the magic of a city, hyperbole seems to be the running theme. But when it comes to the enigmatic city of Delhi, there simply has to be a driving force behind its rich, and rather violent, history. In his timeless travelogue, City of Djinns, William Dalrymple gives a&mdashif not factual, definitely romantic&mdash explanation, of sorts. 

Dalrymple met his first Sufi&mdashPir Sadr-ud-Din&mdashin the citadel of Feroz Shah Kotla, who told him about the city&rsquos magic. &ldquoDelhi,&rdquo wrote Dalrymple, &ldquowas a city of djinns.&rdquo 

&ldquoThough it had been burned by invaders time and time again, millennium after millennium, still the city was rebuilt each time it rose like a phoenix from the fire.&rdquo 

Dalrymple peels back Delhi&rsquos layers of history like an onion. He starts with the Sikh riots of 1984, through the partition, the British, Mughals, the Sultanate, all the way to the Pandavas&rsquo Indraprastha, weaving in his own experiences along the way. He makes you fall in and out of love with the city but never ignores the mysticism surrounding it. 

&ldquoYou could not see them,&rdquo he wrote of the djinns. &ldquoBut if you concentrated, you&rsquod feel them hear their whisperings, and even sense their warm breath on your face.&rdquo