The first few hours in New Delhi brought all sorts of feeling to me, amazement at the vast modernizations including the spectacular Metro Rail, pleasant culinary memories of the cuisines of Delhi and of course bitter memories of the callous cruelty that has been a definitive impression I have had about New Delhi.
I still remember that evening while walking in the District Park near Vikas Puri with my father I witnessed a pack of boys torturing a turtle. Turtles are by nature rarely seen in New Delhi however I was horrified to see the boys grabbing one limb each and the head of the turtle and pulling it apart. That sight horrified my 9 year old mind and it was at that moment that I hated to live in New Delhi. Of course what I witnessed may have been an isolated incident but it still scarred me such that even after 16 long years the memories rushed in with force as I witnessed yet another act of callous cruelty as the train made its approaches to New Delhi Railway Station. A young urchin, a scavenger of old paper and plastic things was crossing the bogey when a bunch of people who had been clogging up the entrance to the compartment with their luggage for the past hour or so screamed at him to go away. The child however walked on and immediately around 10 or so people who were screaming at him started pummeling him. Even creeps on the upper berths were craning to get a whack on to that boy. Soon the boy himself started slapping himself in what was a surrealistic and psychotic act by which he wanted to compensate the cruelties of the attackers by attacking him himself. It was however his eyes that were the most scary. Absolutely devoid of any emotion. It was a mask of resigned neutrality, eyes that had seen such horrors and no affection of any sorts. In a few years as the kid grows stronger and more able to fend for himself he would not have any qualms in striking a knife into one of his victims. He is a child who is being made into a criminal by the society.
As is wont to happen with any helpless citizen like me soon this incident went into the backdrop as I arrived at New Delhi. I have never seen a railway station with these many number of platforms. I suppose a bigger railway station would exist only in China or Russia. I had made prior reservation at the Ginger Rail Yatri Nivas, a well situated hotel located just outside the Railway Station compound. It was one of the fastest check-ins I have ever seen with my arrival to the receipt of key occurring in 2 or 3 minutes flat. After a refreshing bath which saw at least 4 kilograms of dirt and grime wash off from me from the three day train ride we set out for Connaught Place.
Soon as we reached the outer circle of Connaught Place our priorities started making itself felt and that too quite audibly. Spotting what seemed to be a quite popular restaurant we walked into the “Kake da Dhaba”. The little Punjabi restaurant and we were lucky to get in time to get a good table. We had not had anything to eat after the puny semblance of breakfast IRCTC offers in trains and so we really dug into the rotis, Dal Makhani and Tandoori Kebab. Now that was heaven! Tasty Punjabi food. Our hunger satiated we set out exploring Connaught Place. I was saddened to see that many of the beautiful streets of the area had been closed or under works for the Metro Rail project. After doing some window shopping in the streets here we finally headed towards Palika Bazaar.
I remember thinking while on a pilgrimage to Palani that an MBA academy taught by the hawkers of Palani would beat the best IIMs and Harwards. I correct that statement now. An MBA academy taught by hawkers of Palani and Palika Bazaar would beat the best IIMs and Harwards. It is not as if they have any great variety of things to sell. Nearly all the shops almost the entire set of merchandize but they do compete madly exhorting passersby into getting into their shops. The enthusiasm is at times a bit overbearing in fact with the hawkers from numerous stores blocking your way, screaming at the top of their lungs, pushing you and pulling you, quite a bit like how hammerhead sharks behave in the company of shipwrecked plump people. My friend Jayan, did succumb to one shark as he was tempted in by the sight of some cargo pants. Ever since he saw my cargo pants, my constant touring and travelling accessory he has been lusting after a similar piece himself and it seems his search had attained fruition. As a person who prided himself as an expert bargainer Jayan was bargaining for the cargo pants which was almost exactly similar to mine, negotiating from the hawker’s price of 1200 and his own quoted price of 800. I who had bought my pants for the princely sum of Rupees Five Hundred Fifty, 550, tried to warn Jayan, but he in his infinite bargaining wisdom brushed me off without even hearing from me. So I decided to have my bit of fun. Settling in for about 850 rupees and 100 rupees additional for a minute size modification, Jayan the Photographer was happily strutting out of the shop pleased at himself for a bargain stuck when I gently told him the price I paid for my cargo pants.
Buying a Cargo Pants : 550 Rs
Train journey to New Delhi : 1500 Rs
To see the face of Jayan shell shocked like that in Palika Bazaar : Priceless
I too picked up a pair of trousers for about 200 rupees and we finally resurfaced. It was now that I remembered the old Stamps and Coins store somewhere around here. Introduced to it by my father, this was a literal treasure trove for all sorts of collectors and it was in this sub terranean shopping arcade that I rediscovered the love for lassi. Having figured out the address of the place as Mohan Singh Place we set out for it. Unfortunately being a Sunday the collections store was closed and the old Sardarjee’s lassi shop was nowhere to be found but an equally good lassi shop we found at the entrance of the arcade. The lassi we savored there made us forget for a moment the intense heat and strains of tackling New Delhi. It was simply put heavenly. The large glass of lassi also served to demolish any sign of hunger we may have for the rest of the night.
Slowly walking back towards the hotel, I had some dinner and we were off to sleep, hoping to catch an early bus to Haridwar.
We caught what seemed to be the first metro on Yellow Line on Platform 2 of New Delhi Metro Station and boarded the metro for Kashmere Gate Station. Delhi Metro turned out to be indeed as impressive as was heard so far. However appreciation towards Delhi Metro turned to disgust as we entered the stinking garbage pail that is Kashmere Gate Inter State Bus Terminal. The only thing the place was missing was the ubiquitous black pigs that are mandatory in the cesspools of the region. Made aware that buses to Haridwar ply only from Anand Vihar ISBT we boarded a bus to the other ISBT which turned to be marginally cleaner, around Kottayam Bus Stand status. We soon boarded an Uttarakhand State Transport bus to Haridwar for what would turn out to be a nearly 8 hour journey.
Initially all was well but then we got stuck in a massive traffic block at Modinagar. The amount of dust I inhaled from this dust bowl would have been enough for Dubai to dredge out another Palm Jumeirah. After innumerable more delays we finally arrived at Haridwar Bus Stand. I had already figured out the location of the Haridwar Ayyappa Temple from Google Earth so without much issue we arrived at the cozily located temple and inn. After depositing our bags in the room and after a nice bath we set out for the Har ki Puri Ghat to witness the dusk Aarati. Navigating our way through the insanely crowded streets of Haridwar we first stopped at a small restaurant to have some food. It was a good Thali meals and I could easily let my hunger block out the sights of rats and mice scurrying around the tiny restaurant.
Hunger satiated we walked out to the Har ki Puri ghat. After washing the hands, feet and face in the chilling cold Ganga at the Ghat we took out our cameras to start taking shots. My inexperience and lack of skill in handling the Canon 300 D was making itself more and more obvious. Soon as the Aarati started getting into full swing we decided to walk off and beat the crowds. Jayan the consummate shopaholic immediately started window shopping. For ages he had been looking for a camera bag and despite my suggestions on going for a sturdy and reliable Wildcraftg bag he insisted on looking for something cheaper. While window shopping the streets I also made a fool of myself by buying a camera pouch which after I bought it turned out not to serve the intention I had for it, a loss of around 250 rupees.
Jayan finally walked into a shop run by two old shopkeers who were bringing out bags from the wood work hoping to satisfy what I am sure must have been the most picky customer to have walked into their shop ever. After one person exhausted his entire inventory trying to satisfy Jayan, the other person brought out three other models which drew Jayan away. As I watched the first seller threw away his bags in extreme disgust and irritation. However it was from him that Jayan bought the bag finally.
After some exhausting more hours of shopping for various woolens for our stay at Badrinath we finally walked into a tiny shop run by an old Punjabi who made some delicious lassi for us. As in Delhi the previous night, this time too the lassi demolished any craving for dinner. It was thus sated that we walked back to our inn. Since we had to leave for the bus stand very early in the morning next day we settled the dues for our rooms. The rate for a two bed room was just 200 rupees!
Bracing myself to wake up at around 3.30 AM the next morning to catch the first bus to Badrinath I went to sleep. My dream destination is nearly at hand and I could not let any delays or obstructions in attaining it.
No comments:
Post a Comment