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Who is Nandu you might ask?
Nandu is a little boy, living on the street and selling flowers bundled up by his mom and sister. His world revolves around his home JorBagh red light…. (is that an address? Red light?) It is his address. His home.
He runs between cars dodging as they zoom by, risking his existence for 5 rupees worth of sale.
You want to know more, he is bare feet 24/7; come the Delhi chilly winter or the scorching Delhi heat. A bare shirt and a torn short is what I have seen him wear over the past 2 years that I have interacted with him.
What is so unique about Nandu? He is like any other boy living of the streets of Delhi, whats so new about that?
Well nothing new actually.
There are numerous people on the streets of Delhi. Eating, drinking, making babies on the street, their lives spent by the street.
The lights turn green, red, yellow; cars zoom, halt, honk; people, dogs walk past and they live and earn their livelihood. They smile at you when you stop and bug you to buy flowers/ book/ newspaper.
YOu glare/ buy/ shoo them off… and life it moves on …
But Nandu I feel is a little wee bit special, One he is adorable! (the picture does not do justice trust me!!)
Two he is always smiling and
Three he is insanely happy with his situation.
All he knows is to sell flowers and he does that with all the zeal that a 6 year old can muster. He is a master at dodging traffic and his tiny feet can bare the chill/ dirt/ heat a Delhi road is capable off.
My salute to little Nandlal. May your grow strong and happy and find a roof that keeps you safe.
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One the eve of Independence Day of our great country India I was all praise to the development and high growth rate. The way our country has surpassed colonial rule and come up with such vigor and glory is commendable.
14th of August was also the day our offices were shutting at 4:30, our buses were going to leave sharp at 4:30 and ferry us back to the comforts of our home.
Or so I thought.
The clock struck 4:30 and my colleagues and me … marched towards the bus, we unsuspecting souls…. Who knew at that point that the evening was going to go horribly wrong?
Well the bus was late (nothing new!) as whenever it rains in Gurgaon, the traffic goes kaput and water clogs as if we are in some shanty slum rather than the high flying DLF Cyber City area that houses the top of the class MNC’s the world has seen… EnY, WNS, Orange, Ericsson etc .. You name it they are there.
The traffic was crawling at the speed of .005 meters/ 20 minutes. Each car was bumper to bumper and everywhere you looked you could see cars, buses and more cars stuck, ofcourse …not moving.
There was an abundance of rain, flared tempers, honking and distress talks over the mobile phones.
Well we waited first in the pouring rain, huddled under an umbrella, with our shoes soaking in water 4:30 turned to 5. “Oh the bus is going to be here any minute” We searched in the lock jaw traffic, we searched in hope, in the anticipation of a miracle that this traffic is going to get better in a few minutes time.
5:30 Heated exchanges, 6:00 Blame game, 6:30 More rain, 7:00 No bus in sight.
Soaking to the bones, our patience run out, we headed towards the food court our spirits down looking for some relief in tea and bread pakoras.
Surprise surprise we managed to share a laugh or two. It’s a marvel how people connect in difficult situations. 7:40 is when we sat in the bus. The traffic crawled till Moti Bagh, 9:30 is when I reached India Gate and then home.
A total of 5 hours washed in the rains.
On the eve of 15th of August 2008, I made a few friends and marveled at my patience and ofcourse learnt a lesson – When it rains, it pours and when it pours don’t you dare come to Gurgaon.
I got to go golfing !!! All thanks to daddy dearest.. who gets to work his ass off 365 days a year … so that his darling daughter can have all the comforts of the world.
Golf being one of the elite games of the society that hardly everyone gets to enjoy. I had the good good fortune and absolutely unbelievable pleading skills that got me the opportunity to play golf this weekend.
I had been anticipating it for months!! The greens the holding of the club, the teeing off and of course the admiring glances of the cute hunks 
(Am I that predictable???!! and delusional ?? lol )
So well when dad finally let me come along for a golf trip … I was excited!! Exuberant!!! And totally pumped up… And ofcourse my joy knew no bounds (are we writing a school essay here?)
Well we went there on a nice sunday morning, the place, the prestigious Delhi Golf Club was already teeming with golfers. There were the oldies, the young kids and of course the cute ones!!! The place was quite flooded at 11:30 on a Sunday morning… And ofcourse the ladies … the moms, the girlfriends and the wives .. were looking ravishing (no surprise)
It was my first time at golfing and like every firsts I made an absolute complete fool of myself ….
Ofcourse I couldn’t hold the club well .. didn’t bend my leg the right way … my butt wasn’t out enough …. my swing was too swingy … my aim was too lanky …. I had no patience with the ball and my constant checking out of the cuteys was totally not acceptable ! ( ghosh!)
I teed about 50 odd balls in all direction and obviously none in the one intended … My shirt flew when I swung too hard and by gods grace the club didn’t slip from my sweating hand and give some one a tight wrap on the skull
To be completely honest if it wasn’t for the eye candies that were walking around …and my bosses obsession for the game I would probably skip it cause you not only require a lot of patience but also sweat glands that don’t sweat all that much
A thought did strike me while teeing my 16 or 17 ball (about golf ofcourse! not cuteys) that this game is really like the hunting of old times … that the royals used to do. Hunting basically where the Maharajas with their plethora of soldiers and royal people used to mount on elephants and go on excursions for days together … sometimes coming back with no kill at all and at times a tiger or two.
Basically it used to be a thoroughly useless exercise which was done just to show off and spend resources on absolutely non productive exercise …. Golfing fits the bill to the tee … I mean there is a stick, a ball and a hole. All day you need to try and put the ball in a hole and basically walk around in the greens …. atleast of what I saw nobody cared about the game. There were people networking more than teeing off … they were busy saying HI and smiling than sweating it out …
And the whole concept that while a cabby trudges around carrying your load you stand there and tee off and then get zoomed off to the other location in a golf cart! Is crazy cause what do u do really? Burn probably some .000001 ounce of calorie in a year!! Ghosh the hypocrisy!! 
Can we run? Jog? Shout out and pump our fist in the air? Can we be a little less refined??
But with all my criticism … I am all pumped up to go there again … and play it like a pro … bend my knee the right way … butt out a certain way … swing like a champ and flash that pearly white when the ball goes in an absolutely insane direction and ….. oh yeah …. Concentrate on the game a bit more than the dandy candy !
Tee hehe to that!
Delhi is me.
I am Delhi.
I have lived here all my life …
I have hated Delhi, loved Delhi, loathed Delhi.
I have grown up here, fell in love here, grown fat here, jogged here, lied here, lived here and wasted time here.
To be honest I havent given back to the city that has moulded me into who i am now.
And now as summers approach … i feel a tad bit sad … that the cousy winters have gone away a bit too quickly … and now the sticky, sweaty, lazy, sunny days are here (Not that lazy changes …. come winter… summer …spring ….
How do Delhites cope with the summer heat?
When the sweat becomes unbearable, we drive around in our AC cars … the fan does not cool us enough … so we switch on our split AC’s
… we drink Rooh Afza with ice cubes … lemonade with crushed ice … we suck on Chuski available by the roadside in different flavours of Khas, Masala, Rose ….
We try to find a shady tree while out in the city … shield our eyes from the sun and pull our very expensive goggles on
… we talk and we talk … sipping our ice teas… we disscuss ideas or we simply vile away our time
Delhi is harsh in summers
Its harsher in winters
Delhi blows hot .. blows cold …
Delhi is like an unpredictable girl friend … she will keep u on your toes … you will never know what she will do next
Delhi O Delhi ~
The World Economic Forum 2008, has come up with its annual ‘Travel and Tourism Competitiveness Report 2008′. This report measures the T&T (Travel and Tourism) competitiveness of economies, by using an index called the Travel and Tourism Competitiveness Index (TTCI). The TTCI measures each economy on the following criterion -
Rules and regulations of an economy, how environmentally friendly the economy is, the safety and security an economy provides to its travelers, air transport, tourism infrastructure, natural resources, cultural resources and few others. In total there are about 14 criterion where in an economy is measured.
India ranks a lousy 65. Switzerland comes in 1 and Lesotho is a 130.
India at 65 is something that makes me sad. The recent rapes, murders, thefts have propelled India in the list of countries that are not safe for tourists. UK, US, Canada and Australia have issued warnings to its citizens about visiting India. We are the dreaded country for tourists. Tourists should be extremely careful while visiting India. At every corner in India there is a supposed thief, rapist and murderer, lurking to pounce on well-meaning tourists.
Forget the cultural delight that India has to offer, its historical monuments, different communities living as one, the ever welcoming people, the easy weather and abundance to explore in terms of food, places, clothes and oh-my-god what not!
All this and more gets ignored as tourists high on drugs and booze, walking aimless on the beach unescorted fall prey to Indian lechers.
Am I being harsh? … hell yes! Cause when i visit a foreign country I read up on the place and take as much precaution as possible and not willingly walk into danger.
India can’t provide a safe haven for drug and alcohol abusers. Period.
Am I disappointed about the ranking? Absolutely not!
All I am saying is there is more to India …. which will probably be overlooked as there is too much of dirt that is floating around about my country.
My trip to Leh, happened a year back. I am still hung over that trip and all i can do is sit in Delhi and dream about an almost heaven on earth – Leh.
I would love to go back and experience the serenity that surrounds those beautiful rocky mountains. The landscape decked with absolutely flawless blue sky. The happy peaceful faces that greet you in the market place. And in some places the landscape that is absolutely devoid of any human existence for miles and miles.
There are places in Leh that don’t have even a single person… you can look in every direction (and i am serious here) and you will not find a single soul. Stand there… do a 360 degree turn around and wait …. wait for hours and you will not see anyone !!!
It used to be our jeep and the rocky terrain… and that’s all. The silence and the vastness of the place is what i am amazed with …. cause i have lived in a metro for so long that the vizzing past of traffic is a very natural sound and the honks and the screeching of tyres are as obvious as the existence of oxygen.
In Leh, we visited a few monasteries and it baffled me …. the coldness of the place… the air seeped in histroy …. you can almost feel the prayers of the buddhist monks on your skin. The quite … the stillness … the rocky mountains … the monastries … the dusty roads …
Leh is calling me back … I need to pack my bags ……
I have nothing against public transport and I have absolutely nothing against people in general. But when the two mix it’s a combination that makes me squirm. I still think 4 – 5 times before hopping into a DTC (Delhi Transport Corporation) bus or a Blue Line (the private bus operators) for that matter. If I do travel in a bus, it would probably be more of a last resort.
There are many instances that have cemented my opinion about public transport in India, but there is one that stands out. It’s a glaring example that refuses to fade away in the dust of memory. It has become an encounter that I and my friends laugh about.
It happened when, I (unsuspecting soul, as usual) was traveling in a bus on a nice sunny Saturday morning. It was around 11:30 – 12 and for some reason I was actually enjoying this particular ride.
But as is with good moments, they last a precious few seconds. My pleasant ride also lasted about 1-2 minutes. The bus had stopped at a particularly crowded stop and people had piled in, anxious to get to their destination. They were like peas in a pod, though a tad bit haphazard. People were standing neck to neck and I thanked god at that point, that I had grabbed a seat before it was too late.
Just as I had said my “thank you bhagu” (bhagu being short for bhawagan/ God) there came a pleasant looking lady, dressed in a saree and stood right next to me. I say pleasant because, she had a very rural look about her, all smiles, all motherly, all loving and all encompassing and straight out of some Haryanvi village.
She was a little on the hefty side and had a huge huge (!!) tummy … I was reminded of Sethanis/ Halwai’s helwain, the type of women whose lives revolve around the kitchen, their husband and what the neighbors are up to. Her saree was hardly covering her. (It happens to people, who have become really comfortable with their saree and are a bit old and really don’t care if their assets are being ogled at).
So her huge tummy which was also quite bare was at my shoulder level. (Bare for the simple reason that saree does not cover the midriff).
As the rickety bus maneuvered on busy Delhi roads, picking up passengers, the ladies tummy came closer to my shoulder.
After few stops it was comfortably resting on my shoulder. An inch or more of it had nestled there and was quite comfortable with that arrangement. It had found its comfort zone and a support system, to uplift it… as gravity was doing its job well.
So there I was stuck in a crowded bus, a tummy on my shoulder; my stop a good 30 minutes away and a lady who refused to acknowledge the fact that my shoulder space was being violated. (Hello!! It was on me!)
As the tummy stayed comfortably nestled on my shoulder I vowed never to travel in busses and not grab the aisle seat the next time. I also vowed that I will pay ten times more and take an Auto Rikshaw and I prayed (oh god I prayed!) that the bus doesn’t get more crowded lest the tummy reaches my cheek.
Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!
Bhagu !! Where were you when I needed you?
I am sure you were too busy chuckling away to shoulder this problem!!
One of THE most interesting book stores that i have come across. It does not boast of the wooden floor (Full Circle in Khan Market), the Chai Bar (Oxford in Connaught Place), the easy in and out of the Bahari Sons (In khan Market) or comforts like air conditioning, benches, sofas, nice wall paintings or even the tinkling of a wind chime when you enter the shop.
This bookstore does not try to make you comfortable nor does it want to. Its just business here, name your book and if they have it - they tell you the price, or you keep moving and do not loiter around too much cause you might just get hit by a car.
Yes hit by a car . This book store my friend is on the corner of a street and its no uncommon street its a very common street with heavy traffic flow. You have to dodge traffic to figure while looking for your book. Dont get too enamored by the stock of books, dont get too in awe.
All this book store has is arrays and arrays of books stacked from the floor to the ceiling, with three people manning it.
Why i like this bookstore?
Its different! Its on the street! and all the books that i have asked for are available!! From fiction to non fiction to long forgotten books. I like the openness that this bookstore has. The all are invited feel. The absolutely crazy location it has.
Have a look your self and if you are in Delhi then drop by! Its right next to PVR Plaza, CP, Delhi.
Few pictures below…..
Cars zoom by as you look at the pile of books. Cross the road and you can have a better look !!
Indian man (touching himself) next to the book store. No i had no intentions of clicking that particualr pose, but this man just at that moment had to check if all was okay down there….
Ghosh Indian Men! … anyway thats another post !!
My second post in the very disccussed and very phobic (atleast for me) the great indian arranged marriage. As days go by and i am slowly inching towards 24, there is added frenzy from my mum and dads side, with rishtas and lets meet this boy and lets socialise a bit more scenes being played and replayed.
It scares me though, the hypocricy attached to it.
First you breed me like a “good girl”… with the following things engrained in my brain -
1. Don’t talk to boys.
2. You cant have friends that are boys; this kind of thing does not happen in our family. (Hamare ghar ke ladkiyan aesa nahin karte hain)
3. No late nights, no sleepovers, no “unappropriate dressing” (WTF! its not like i waltz around in a bikini in the market place)
and blah de da da da ….
And now sirca 2007… when the girl child turns 23 …guess what
1. Why dont you get some of your male friends home
2. Introduce us to some of your male friends
3. Why dont you have any marriagable male friends ?
and blah de da da
Wah ! I totally marvel the way there is a change in perception towards “boys” lol “men”
Was having this conversation with mom, she was in one of her frustated moments (can totally understand that with 3 spoilt daughters, one highly demanding job and one very traditional husband to deal with day in and day out)
So she starts of with first i had to deal with my dad and his tantrums and his drama and his expectations and his …… da da da and now its this man (obviously my daddy dearest) and his tantrums and his ideas and his blah blah !
She ends it with one of her sweet smiles. But what is really ironic is that, she is willing to let that happen to her own daughters, what she detests in her own life.
She has now become a mute spectator to my dad and his mission to get me (and my elder sista) married off. Unfortunately i have been the obedient daughter all through out and going against the only people i have looked up to is going to be some task.
I wonder should i have hung on the few “boys” that i knew, would it have been easier to have that support system and then evetually think about a serious relationship with them (??) … than marry total strangers?
Should i have tried a bit harder in a relationship? Hung on longer? Damn it! i was too young… i am too young !
Dont clutter my brain with marriage, coupling, relationships etc etc. Let me be i am sure i will find someone and like the good daughter i have been (track record of 23 damn years) … he will be up to your expectations maa and dad, dont worry your ideal daughter shall not dissapoint you (once again … oh well) … just give her time …. dont rush her into it…
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