In sepia tones I can see my city enveloped
A cold gloomy day, adorned with a mystical white fog
As the sun tires to shine behind the clouds
And the eagles soar above my window
As I look outside, as far as my gaze allows
I know the winter has arrived
For it creates an illusion, of everything swath in rime
Originally posted on Monday, December 04, 2006 1:48 PM
Showing posts with label Delhi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Delhi. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
An Old Man And His Tales
Getting late on a Monday morning is a no-no for me. As I reached the auto stand, there was no auto in sight and then I saw one coming slowly. Frantically, I waved my hand and I flagged it down.
I haggled with the driver, an old man with long curly salt and pepper bread, and kindly eyes. After fixing the price, I plonked on the auto seat, took out my newspaper, began munching on dry fruits and started reading.
But the old man had other ideas!
He was a talkative person who told me how the situation was in 1980s and 1990s and how much the fare was, where people liked to travel and how South Delhi was just till Hauz Khas and Green Park.
He constantly kept talking somehow reminding me of old people who keep muttering to themselves. I politely nodded a few times, which I hoped would give him some hint that I wasn’t interested in make a conversation.
But he wasn’t the kind to take hints. On top of it he was driving at a speed of 35 km/hr, jumping out of his seat every time a bus came too close by.
I looked at my watch almost getting resigned to the fact that I could be late today.
Meanwhile Shamshauddin (he looked like his name would be this) kept going down the memory lane.
Half way though my journey, I realized that – 1. I would definitely be late 2. Shamshauddin would not stop talking.
We people living in the metros rush though our life so much, in a hurry to get from one place to another that we don’t even stop to greet our neighbour or have a conversation with people.
I folded my newspaper, proceeded to talk with him and had a pleasant morning till I reached my destination. Not because I had no other option but his tales were quite interesting too.
The old man reminded me something which I and my young counterparts have forgotten - virtues of an unhurried life!
Originally posted on Monday, November 27, 2006 5:44 PM
I haggled with the driver, an old man with long curly salt and pepper bread, and kindly eyes. After fixing the price, I plonked on the auto seat, took out my newspaper, began munching on dry fruits and started reading.
But the old man had other ideas!
He was a talkative person who told me how the situation was in 1980s and 1990s and how much the fare was, where people liked to travel and how South Delhi was just till Hauz Khas and Green Park.
He constantly kept talking somehow reminding me of old people who keep muttering to themselves. I politely nodded a few times, which I hoped would give him some hint that I wasn’t interested in make a conversation.
But he wasn’t the kind to take hints. On top of it he was driving at a speed of 35 km/hr, jumping out of his seat every time a bus came too close by.
I looked at my watch almost getting resigned to the fact that I could be late today.
Meanwhile Shamshauddin (he looked like his name would be this) kept going down the memory lane.
Half way though my journey, I realized that – 1. I would definitely be late 2. Shamshauddin would not stop talking.
We people living in the metros rush though our life so much, in a hurry to get from one place to another that we don’t even stop to greet our neighbour or have a conversation with people.
I folded my newspaper, proceeded to talk with him and had a pleasant morning till I reached my destination. Not because I had no other option but his tales were quite interesting too.
The old man reminded me something which I and my young counterparts have forgotten - virtues of an unhurried life!
Originally posted on Monday, November 27, 2006 5:44 PM
A Social Activism Paradise
The mood is electric as I enter the Jawahar Lal Stadium grounds.
Some people from Tibet are starting their protests, in another corner a dalit group from Jharkand is discussing its issues, further ahead a women’s group from Karnataka is selling its wares, a traditional craft, slowly losing out to globalization, further ahead Agsar Ali passionately tells Muslim women to change the shariat.
I listen to issues related to NREGA and then I see a poster screaming out “World’s Number One Terrorist”. Someone is blocking my way and I cant see the picture, I assume its Osama Bin Laden. Well I am wrong. A leftist heaven, the picture is of George W Bush.
And I realize that Indian Social Forum is the biggest mela for all kinds of social activism. I am amazed that there are so many people who care about such a vast array of issues.
Thousands of people from all walks of life, all across the world are here to talk about things which affect them directly or indirectly.
The venue is next to a slum and I see people’s reaction as they pass by it. They squirm, some putting a cloth over their faces, some ignore it and then I wonder if there are double standards too.
What uplifts my spirit is the involvement of young people in the event. Atleast some people don’t have a chalta hai attitude.
All in all – I have a mixed day. I am happy to see that the voiceless are give a voice, a platform but on the other hand one understands that globalization is the way forward. A closed society and economy can never grow.
Do check out their website here.
Any one in Delhi concerned about any social issue ranging from farmers plight to nuclear proliferation, don’t give this event a miss. It will go on till November 13!
Originally posted on Saturday, November 11, 2006 1:20 PM
Some people from Tibet are starting their protests, in another corner a dalit group from Jharkand is discussing its issues, further ahead a women’s group from Karnataka is selling its wares, a traditional craft, slowly losing out to globalization, further ahead Agsar Ali passionately tells Muslim women to change the shariat.
I listen to issues related to NREGA and then I see a poster screaming out “World’s Number One Terrorist”. Someone is blocking my way and I cant see the picture, I assume its Osama Bin Laden. Well I am wrong. A leftist heaven, the picture is of George W Bush.
And I realize that Indian Social Forum is the biggest mela for all kinds of social activism. I am amazed that there are so many people who care about such a vast array of issues.
Thousands of people from all walks of life, all across the world are here to talk about things which affect them directly or indirectly.
The venue is next to a slum and I see people’s reaction as they pass by it. They squirm, some putting a cloth over their faces, some ignore it and then I wonder if there are double standards too.
What uplifts my spirit is the involvement of young people in the event. Atleast some people don’t have a chalta hai attitude.
All in all – I have a mixed day. I am happy to see that the voiceless are give a voice, a platform but on the other hand one understands that globalization is the way forward. A closed society and economy can never grow.
Do check out their website here.
Any one in Delhi concerned about any social issue ranging from farmers plight to nuclear proliferation, don’t give this event a miss. It will go on till November 13!
Originally posted on Saturday, November 11, 2006 1:20 PM
Monday, June 16, 2008
Delhi Bloggers Meet - Version Two
After the shady details of the meet, here's more stuff dished up for you guys.
On 15th I spoke to Maddy and confirmed that the meet was happening on 16th. We talked about how we will recognize each other. Thankfully neither decided to bring a 'red rose in the hand'. Just a lost expression on face would suffice us to recognize each other.
On the day of the meet, I was the first to reach the venue. I went and sat down near a music store looking at people wondering if someone is an O3 blogger. One guy in blue t-shirt walked past me quite a few times, looking for someone. I thought maybe he's a fellow blogger. But it was false alarm. And its never a good idea to stare at men especially if you are a girl sitting alone.
I called up Maddy, who told me that Shady had reached and was parking his car. I told Maddy what I was wearing and so Shady was able to spot me. Meanwhile I thought maybe I should have got some kind of a placard saying 'O3 Blogger'. On second thoughts, it would have got some unwanted attention. Shady recognized me and made me talk to Maddy and so I knew it was the right guy :) First round of introductions happened and while we were talking, his phone rang.
We saw a guy in brown shirt a few meters in front of us, talking on the phone and searching for people. As Shady asked him to raise his hand, we knew it was Abyb. As he joined us, the second round of introductions happened.
As all three of us were talking, Shady's phone rang again. This time it was Maddy. She joined and the third round of introductions happened.
We proceeded to go and sit inside Buzz.
Obviously no one could believe how old was I and I told them I had identification to prove my age and they all said this to me- This is Delhi, yahan nakli identification bhi banti hai :) Oh and Abyb actually thought I was 'elderly'. Now this is one statement I would have gladly recorded because no one in my entire life has called me anything more than a teenager.
After the usual chit chat, Taira joined us and the next round of introductions happened. Now the seating arrangement was such – Maddy, next to her was Abyb and next to him was Taira. On the opposite side, I was sitting in the corner, Shady next to me and a khali seat (where Kamesh eventually sat).
Taira asked me if I would like to have some cocktail and proceeded to tell me names of some interesting ones but I decided to stick to my Shirley Temple mocktail while Maddy proceeded to tell about the toothpaste cocktail which she had created once with secret ingredients (which even the expert mixologists/top intelligence agency/scientists in the world will not be able to replicate).
As Kamesh joined us, the final round of introductions happened. Phew! Next time we should have some kind of stickers on our foreheads so it’s easy to recognize people.
We ordered some food and everyone passed it to me first. Maybe everyone thought I could magically grow (?) if I was fed well.
As Taira began her tirade against men with Maddy joining in, I wonder what was going though Abyb’s head, sitting in the middle of man-eaters :D The man with body parts from different states (Kamesh) was quiet and Shady- well he could only nod in agreement.
I spoke a little but observed a lot (wink). Someone suggested I should sit in the middle and Shady offered to swap places with me which I refused. I didn’t want them to look like bodyguards sitting on my either side.
Abyb did mention about a shady place called national cinema hall behind the national stadium. Hearing about someplace shady our Shady Man’s ears perked up. And he told us somethings about his shady past in college daysJ As SBH messaged him, we all decided to break the party. I was imparted some gyan by the people that I should definitely visit Goa (without folks in tow and with friends in tow).
Dividing the bill was a very difficult task and Kamesh took up the challenge to divide it between us while Shady started to sweat – don’t know if it was the complex calculation or the phone call to his better half :P
After insisting that I could go alone, I was dropped by a fellow blogger.
Here's hoping the next meets happens soon!!!
P.S: I have left out some details because they are already there at Shady’s post and I didn’t want this to be repetitive
Originally posted on Thursday, August 17, 2006 5:05 PM
On 15th I spoke to Maddy and confirmed that the meet was happening on 16th. We talked about how we will recognize each other. Thankfully neither decided to bring a 'red rose in the hand'. Just a lost expression on face would suffice us to recognize each other.
On the day of the meet, I was the first to reach the venue. I went and sat down near a music store looking at people wondering if someone is an O3 blogger. One guy in blue t-shirt walked past me quite a few times, looking for someone. I thought maybe he's a fellow blogger. But it was false alarm. And its never a good idea to stare at men especially if you are a girl sitting alone.
I called up Maddy, who told me that Shady had reached and was parking his car. I told Maddy what I was wearing and so Shady was able to spot me. Meanwhile I thought maybe I should have got some kind of a placard saying 'O3 Blogger'. On second thoughts, it would have got some unwanted attention. Shady recognized me and made me talk to Maddy and so I knew it was the right guy :) First round of introductions happened and while we were talking, his phone rang.
We saw a guy in brown shirt a few meters in front of us, talking on the phone and searching for people. As Shady asked him to raise his hand, we knew it was Abyb. As he joined us, the second round of introductions happened.
As all three of us were talking, Shady's phone rang again. This time it was Maddy. She joined and the third round of introductions happened.
We proceeded to go and sit inside Buzz.
Obviously no one could believe how old was I and I told them I had identification to prove my age and they all said this to me- This is Delhi, yahan nakli identification bhi banti hai :) Oh and Abyb actually thought I was 'elderly'. Now this is one statement I would have gladly recorded because no one in my entire life has called me anything more than a teenager.
After the usual chit chat, Taira joined us and the next round of introductions happened. Now the seating arrangement was such – Maddy, next to her was Abyb and next to him was Taira. On the opposite side, I was sitting in the corner, Shady next to me and a khali seat (where Kamesh eventually sat).
Taira asked me if I would like to have some cocktail and proceeded to tell me names of some interesting ones but I decided to stick to my Shirley Temple mocktail while Maddy proceeded to tell about the toothpaste cocktail which she had created once with secret ingredients (which even the expert mixologists/top intelligence agency/scientists in the world will not be able to replicate).
As Kamesh joined us, the final round of introductions happened. Phew! Next time we should have some kind of stickers on our foreheads so it’s easy to recognize people.
We ordered some food and everyone passed it to me first. Maybe everyone thought I could magically grow (?) if I was fed well.
As Taira began her tirade against men with Maddy joining in, I wonder what was going though Abyb’s head, sitting in the middle of man-eaters :D The man with body parts from different states (Kamesh) was quiet and Shady- well he could only nod in agreement.
I spoke a little but observed a lot (wink). Someone suggested I should sit in the middle and Shady offered to swap places with me which I refused. I didn’t want them to look like bodyguards sitting on my either side.
Abyb did mention about a shady place called national cinema hall behind the national stadium. Hearing about someplace shady our Shady Man’s ears perked up. And he told us somethings about his shady past in college daysJ As SBH messaged him, we all decided to break the party. I was imparted some gyan by the people that I should definitely visit Goa (without folks in tow and with friends in tow).
Dividing the bill was a very difficult task and Kamesh took up the challenge to divide it between us while Shady started to sweat – don’t know if it was the complex calculation or the phone call to his better half :P
After insisting that I could go alone, I was dropped by a fellow blogger.
Here's hoping the next meets happens soon!!!
P.S: I have left out some details because they are already there at Shady’s post and I didn’t want this to be repetitive
Originally posted on Thursday, August 17, 2006 5:05 PM
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Dilli Ki Sardi
I got a call at 10.30 a.m yesterday. Cursing the person who wanted to disturb my sleep, I reached out to the irritating phone which would not stop ringing. Sleepily I managed to say “Hello”. The rest of the conversation woke me up.
Brrr...this is the coldest winter I have ever seen in Delhi. Teeth chattering, layers of woolies, sitting in the sun curled in my easy chair, reading a book, eating aloo paranthas with dollops of butter. That’s how I thought I’d spend the weekend. Being the eccentric oddball that I am, I didn't.
I was at a Kashmiri refugee camp of people dislocated after the earthquake. I met people of different ethnic and religious groups. There were widows, orphans, young boys and families. Their living conditions were appalling. Small tents of about 3X4 feet, along a dirty nullah is the land given by the Government. Interestingly, the metro (a sign of development) ran above the camp as did a Sonia Vihar pipeline (Sonia Gandhi project to bring water to people).
I met a young man who is in his early twenties, around 21. He spoke about the conditions back home, where it was snowing and the tents provided by the Government were not enough to sustain. The compensation amount was also meagre, not enough to rebuild lives.
So they had been given this land in Delhi. They had reluctantly come to Delhi and were living in conditions where they didn’t have enough food or clothes. Sometimes they went to bed, hungry.
The young man, a Bachelor of Arts student, spoke in decent English. On asking what he did, he told me that twice a week, he went around asking people to give them food, clothes and blankets. Rest of the time, he worked in a subzi mandi in Delhi, packing crates or selling vegetables. Unwillingly, his education had been halted.
He told me, “Work is worship and in times of adversity we have to do things which we otherwise wouldn’t”. Leaving behind a carpet business, destroyed by the earthquake was the hardest thing he did.
The people at the camp hoped that the Government would send them back as soon as the harsh winter was over. As children ran about playing with each other, I was told that about 100 of them were orphans and there were around 40 widows. With pleading eyes and folded hands, an elderly lady asked me to help them in any possible way. I could see that the plea for help was genuine.
I know there is so much hatred and distrust for Kashmiris. We all have our biases based on what we hear, what the media reports say, what we are taught. Do we ever try and meet people with open minds and hearts. Shouldn't we overcome those biases?
Later that evening, in the comfort of my home, I was sitting in front of a heater, eating garam gajar ka halwa, wrapped in my blanket with a thousand thoughts running in my head. What if I was in such a situation? Would somebody leave aside his biases to help me?
Originally posted on Monday, January 09, 2006 1:36 PM
Brrr...this is the coldest winter I have ever seen in Delhi. Teeth chattering, layers of woolies, sitting in the sun curled in my easy chair, reading a book, eating aloo paranthas with dollops of butter. That’s how I thought I’d spend the weekend. Being the eccentric oddball that I am, I didn't.
I was at a Kashmiri refugee camp of people dislocated after the earthquake. I met people of different ethnic and religious groups. There were widows, orphans, young boys and families. Their living conditions were appalling. Small tents of about 3X4 feet, along a dirty nullah is the land given by the Government. Interestingly, the metro (a sign of development) ran above the camp as did a Sonia Vihar pipeline (Sonia Gandhi project to bring water to people).
I met a young man who is in his early twenties, around 21. He spoke about the conditions back home, where it was snowing and the tents provided by the Government were not enough to sustain. The compensation amount was also meagre, not enough to rebuild lives.
So they had been given this land in Delhi. They had reluctantly come to Delhi and were living in conditions where they didn’t have enough food or clothes. Sometimes they went to bed, hungry.
The young man, a Bachelor of Arts student, spoke in decent English. On asking what he did, he told me that twice a week, he went around asking people to give them food, clothes and blankets. Rest of the time, he worked in a subzi mandi in Delhi, packing crates or selling vegetables. Unwillingly, his education had been halted.
He told me, “Work is worship and in times of adversity we have to do things which we otherwise wouldn’t”. Leaving behind a carpet business, destroyed by the earthquake was the hardest thing he did.
The people at the camp hoped that the Government would send them back as soon as the harsh winter was over. As children ran about playing with each other, I was told that about 100 of them were orphans and there were around 40 widows. With pleading eyes and folded hands, an elderly lady asked me to help them in any possible way. I could see that the plea for help was genuine.
I know there is so much hatred and distrust for Kashmiris. We all have our biases based on what we hear, what the media reports say, what we are taught. Do we ever try and meet people with open minds and hearts. Shouldn't we overcome those biases?
Later that evening, in the comfort of my home, I was sitting in front of a heater, eating garam gajar ka halwa, wrapped in my blanket with a thousand thoughts running in my head. What if I was in such a situation? Would somebody leave aside his biases to help me?
Originally posted on Monday, January 09, 2006 1:36 PM
Friday, November 2, 2007
License to Kill
The drama began when I decided to learn driving. It is a nightmare to drive on Delhi's killer roads. If anyone can drive on Delhi roads, he can drive anywhere. The concept of lane driving is different here, so are the road rules. If three lanes have been designated for the traffic then people will create six lanes out of three. You can overtake only if you have the bigger vehicle.
Keeping this in mind, began my tryst with driving. After much coaxing and cajoling, I learnt to drive. The D-day came when I had to go for my driving license test. With nervous butterflies in my stomach, I reached the test centre. (For easier understanding, from here on Test Centre with be called TC in this post.)
My driving school had fixed the day and time of the test for the people in my batch. A motely group of people (including me) were told to come in a back lane near TC at a certain given time. All of us assembled there (a college student, an office goer, a teacher, a doctor and other assorted people). We huddled together in a group. It looked like we were involved in some shady drug deal as passerbys gave us suspicious looks. I didn't know how the day would unfold.
After a roll call of all our names, we were told in a low voice by the driving school guy “Aapko fikar karne ki koi zarurat nahi hai. Aap test may pass ho jaogey.” Then he gave an all knowing smile and told us to follow him.
We walked in the lane towards the TC. At the TC, we entered from a back door and then proceeded to walk past counters where the normal junta was not allowed. Then we stopped and signed a form at a particular counter. The list had already reached the counter wallah guy. By this time I realized that a few palms had been greased so that our license would be made without much difficulty.
Then we went to the area where we were supposed to drive the car. Again, the driving school guy told us in a tone full of conspiracy “Dekiye abhi apka driving test hoga, sirf 100 metre agey jaana hai phir 100 metre reverse. Bas. Apka test khatam.”
The car in which we were supposed to give our test arrived. It was a car provided by the driving school. It had double accelerator, break and clutch. Now comes the fun part.
The person who was supposed to take our test, stood on the road (with loads of money in his pocket - This I deduced from what happened next). He did not bother to get in the car to test us! The driving school guy sat in the car with each one of us. A college student whose number was just before mine looked a bit nervous coz she wasn't sure about reversing properly. After the test, she got down and with a puzzled face came upto me and said “Kuch bhi nahi hua.”
My number was just after hers. Before I could comprehend her statement, I was called for my test. With butterflies playing circus in my stomach I sat down in the car. The driving school instructor told me - don't put your foot on the accelerator. Just hold the steering wheel and pretend you are driving. I told him I can drive, but he ignored that! With a questioning look on my face, I followed his instructions.
I held the steering, he put his foot on the accelerator, moved the car forward. Stopped. Asked me to look back and yet again pretend that I am reversing the car. He then reversed the car and we stopped. With a smile on his face he told me “You have passed the test. You can collect the license in one hour.“
What test? That was a driving test? I think it was an acting test.
Needless to say, I have a driving license and that too for twenty years!
P.S : In retrospect I just wonder, if people get license like this, no wonder road accidents are increasing day-by-day.
Originally posted on Monday, December 12, 2005 11:42 AM
Keeping this in mind, began my tryst with driving. After much coaxing and cajoling, I learnt to drive. The D-day came when I had to go for my driving license test. With nervous butterflies in my stomach, I reached the test centre. (For easier understanding, from here on Test Centre with be called TC in this post.)
My driving school had fixed the day and time of the test for the people in my batch. A motely group of people (including me) were told to come in a back lane near TC at a certain given time. All of us assembled there (a college student, an office goer, a teacher, a doctor and other assorted people). We huddled together in a group. It looked like we were involved in some shady drug deal as passerbys gave us suspicious looks. I didn't know how the day would unfold.
After a roll call of all our names, we were told in a low voice by the driving school guy “Aapko fikar karne ki koi zarurat nahi hai. Aap test may pass ho jaogey.” Then he gave an all knowing smile and told us to follow him.
We walked in the lane towards the TC. At the TC, we entered from a back door and then proceeded to walk past counters where the normal junta was not allowed. Then we stopped and signed a form at a particular counter. The list had already reached the counter wallah guy. By this time I realized that a few palms had been greased so that our license would be made without much difficulty.
Then we went to the area where we were supposed to drive the car. Again, the driving school guy told us in a tone full of conspiracy “Dekiye abhi apka driving test hoga, sirf 100 metre agey jaana hai phir 100 metre reverse. Bas. Apka test khatam.”
The car in which we were supposed to give our test arrived. It was a car provided by the driving school. It had double accelerator, break and clutch. Now comes the fun part.
The person who was supposed to take our test, stood on the road (with loads of money in his pocket - This I deduced from what happened next). He did not bother to get in the car to test us! The driving school guy sat in the car with each one of us. A college student whose number was just before mine looked a bit nervous coz she wasn't sure about reversing properly. After the test, she got down and with a puzzled face came upto me and said “Kuch bhi nahi hua.”
My number was just after hers. Before I could comprehend her statement, I was called for my test. With butterflies playing circus in my stomach I sat down in the car. The driving school instructor told me - don't put your foot on the accelerator. Just hold the steering wheel and pretend you are driving. I told him I can drive, but he ignored that! With a questioning look on my face, I followed his instructions.
I held the steering, he put his foot on the accelerator, moved the car forward. Stopped. Asked me to look back and yet again pretend that I am reversing the car. He then reversed the car and we stopped. With a smile on his face he told me “You have passed the test. You can collect the license in one hour.“
What test? That was a driving test? I think it was an acting test.
Needless to say, I have a driving license and that too for twenty years!
P.S : In retrospect I just wonder, if people get license like this, no wonder road accidents are increasing day-by-day.
Originally posted on Monday, December 12, 2005 11:42 AM
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