Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Capital Fury!
Among other changes in Delhi, I can see a new trend in the rage levels of the city. Consider the following cases:
1. A man after refusing to pay seventeen bucks for toll, shot the toll worker even after the boy let him go without paying.
2. A man, after refusing to pay for a glass of juice, went home, returned with a kitchen knife and stabbed the juice vendor to death.
3. When an auto wala grazed a car, the driver and his companions bashed the auto wala’s head with a brick till he was dead.
4. A father and son beat a guy to death with hockey sticks and cricket bats for asking to park his auto near their house.
There was a time when I used to relish a quarrel in Delhi. Hindi is not my mother tongue, and it was fascinating to see the innovative use of the language when tempers were flared. Among a few dialogues, that I can quote safely here are:
“Tere baap ki shadi hai kya wahan, jo ball laane me itni der kar raha hai?”
“Ye kooda tumhara daddy aa ke saaf karega?”
An entire crowd would gather and a few people would butt in, in a bid to pacify the parties. Soon, the quarrel would break up and an entire week would be dedicated to the incident in excited whispers. And for years to come, these quarrels would bring a smile or arouse laughter.
Now, people move away from a quarrel with dread written all over their faces. You never know who might snap and just kill you in sheer rage. Nosey neighbours will not pry in to pacify. The parties might turn on the friendly pacifier. What bewildering phenomenon is happening here? A rage so blinding, a passion so consuming that all past and future seems to obliterate from the person’s mind. He seems only aware of an urgency to be rid of the disturbing element. And the rage lasts for long periods of time too. Any concern for consequences seems to be absent too.
Well, whatever the phenomenon, whatever the psychology behind it, what I have learnt this time in Delhi is that we have to learn to keep quiet. Another car grazes your car, don’t react. A person barges into a line, don’t speak up. A person steps on your feet, smile. It can get more ridiculous if I continue. I know its against the spirit of Delhi, but its definitely my new mantra in this newer New Delhi.
1. A man after refusing to pay seventeen bucks for toll, shot the toll worker even after the boy let him go without paying.
2. A man, after refusing to pay for a glass of juice, went home, returned with a kitchen knife and stabbed the juice vendor to death.
3. When an auto wala grazed a car, the driver and his companions bashed the auto wala’s head with a brick till he was dead.
4. A father and son beat a guy to death with hockey sticks and cricket bats for asking to park his auto near their house.
There was a time when I used to relish a quarrel in Delhi. Hindi is not my mother tongue, and it was fascinating to see the innovative use of the language when tempers were flared. Among a few dialogues, that I can quote safely here are:
“Tere baap ki shadi hai kya wahan, jo ball laane me itni der kar raha hai?”
“Ye kooda tumhara daddy aa ke saaf karega?”
An entire crowd would gather and a few people would butt in, in a bid to pacify the parties. Soon, the quarrel would break up and an entire week would be dedicated to the incident in excited whispers. And for years to come, these quarrels would bring a smile or arouse laughter.
Now, people move away from a quarrel with dread written all over their faces. You never know who might snap and just kill you in sheer rage. Nosey neighbours will not pry in to pacify. The parties might turn on the friendly pacifier. What bewildering phenomenon is happening here? A rage so blinding, a passion so consuming that all past and future seems to obliterate from the person’s mind. He seems only aware of an urgency to be rid of the disturbing element. And the rage lasts for long periods of time too. Any concern for consequences seems to be absent too.
Well, whatever the phenomenon, whatever the psychology behind it, what I have learnt this time in Delhi is that we have to learn to keep quiet. Another car grazes your car, don’t react. A person barges into a line, don’t speak up. A person steps on your feet, smile. It can get more ridiculous if I continue. I know its against the spirit of Delhi, but its definitely my new mantra in this newer New Delhi.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
From DTC to Metro
Delhi once gave me shapely arms. At least twice a day, I was assured of an intensive session of physical exercise, equivalent to any modern gym equipped with sophisticated technology. I, as well as my fellow female colleagues, could boast of a 26 inch waist. And that too without a diet, in fact we used to hog like wolves all day. All courtesy, DTC buses. A ride in a DTC bus of those days was quite an educational tour. On a busy route, a DTC bus was a colossal cuboid of humans rolling across the streets. Those lucky enough to have a foot-hold clung to their good fortune. People from all walks of life were forced to forget their differences as they shared space aboard these indifferent machines. Labourer, teacher, housewife, student – all were equal. Summers were even more humbling.
This time the capital welcomed me with the Metro. The Metro is like the latest hottie in college. Everybody is talking about it. Everybody wants to be seen in it. Not one day goes by without me hearing an incident that happened on the Metro. I myself travelled it for most of my interviews. You can do a complete behaviour analysis of the current Delhiite while sitting on those seats.
First of all Metro stations are so secure that you can stand proud while you wait for it. Unlike when you wait for a DTC, you don’t have to rivet your eyes around for suspicious characters. And even if you do spot someone creepy, you know that help isn’t at all far. Moreover, you know the exact amount of time you have to wait, which will be max eight minutes. Unlike DTCs you aren’t going to be spending an easy half hour stagnating under the sun.
All the technology does usher in some snobbery. Swanky swinging automatic doors, tokens and smart cards, stations built like international airports; that’s a lot to brag about. People are generally seen staring into the distance with an air of superiority, mostly with a pair of headphones glued to their ears. They seem unruffled by the multitude of people milling around. For even in the new fangled Metro, there is rush. Sometimes, I wonder how the doors are able to close. I guess you can’t win everywhere.
This time the capital welcomed me with the Metro. The Metro is like the latest hottie in college. Everybody is talking about it. Everybody wants to be seen in it. Not one day goes by without me hearing an incident that happened on the Metro. I myself travelled it for most of my interviews. You can do a complete behaviour analysis of the current Delhiite while sitting on those seats.
First of all Metro stations are so secure that you can stand proud while you wait for it. Unlike when you wait for a DTC, you don’t have to rivet your eyes around for suspicious characters. And even if you do spot someone creepy, you know that help isn’t at all far. Moreover, you know the exact amount of time you have to wait, which will be max eight minutes. Unlike DTCs you aren’t going to be spending an easy half hour stagnating under the sun.
All the technology does usher in some snobbery. Swanky swinging automatic doors, tokens and smart cards, stations built like international airports; that’s a lot to brag about. People are generally seen staring into the distance with an air of superiority, mostly with a pair of headphones glued to their ears. They seem unruffled by the multitude of people milling around. For even in the new fangled Metro, there is rush. Sometimes, I wonder how the doors are able to close. I guess you can’t win everywhere.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Women Interrupted!
My first morning in Delhi, I opened the newspaper gratefully. Grateful because its been a year since I read an Indian English daily. And what I read shivered me timbers. A 29 year old married woman was dragged out of her taxi and gang raped the whole night. The woman was a bar tender in a Gurgaon pub. I have known a conservative Delhi, but the new generation has taken over. Aunties no longer flap their tongues when a girl and a boy chat in their ‘mohalla.’ Girls are no longer confined to salvar kameezes and loose T-shirts. Its nice and relieving to see that. But if this city was ever unsafe for women, now its even worse. And there is no relief in sight.If you look at the rape pattern in the city, you can conclude that we don’t have any serial rapists. These are apparently normal people, who belong to normal families. The only thing that sticks out is that they seem to have no fear – of the law, or it’s enforcers. Not that these people belong to a powerful mafia group or the underworld. So where does this absence of fear come from? Is it money? If you have an answer, please let me know. Maybe I’ll feel better.
Delhi is a vast city and full of opportunities. There are hundreds of smart and exciting jobs and careers for women, but can a woman dare take such a job, or choose such a career? Those who have taken these jobs and chosen to be wild and versatile, are they courageous given the level of dangers, or just lucky so far? The sad fact is, women of Delhi, who are smart, opinionated, bold, cannot safely work in urban places like a bar or a pub, a disc. So should they just tame themselves and do jobs that are safe like teaching, accounts and day shifts? How do you fulfill your dreams in such a place? And I wonder: was it wise for me to come back here to restart my career?
Monday, April 16, 2012
Back in Teekhi Delhi!
My sincerest apologies
for the sudden absence. Being a human being, sometimes the world around me
demands and I simply have to supply. Without any more fanfare, let me tell you
that I am now in Delhi. Delhiites and people who have been to Delhi would know
that this is not a city one takes lightly. Millions of people have tried their
luck here for hundreds of years. It’s the perfect place for a reality check. The
crowd here is rough, rude and ever increasing. Itcan trample on your dreams quite
painfully.But, after a month of being shoved and pulled around, you realize
that it doesn’t matter anymore. And suddenly, you are one of the mob, standing
and watching a nervous newbie complain about the crowd. And you don’t have the
time to console this person.
And soon, you get a
new feeling. Like nothing can stop you from reaching what you want. Whether,
its the soaring temperatures in summer or the biting chills of Delhi winter,
you find that you are still delivering, still functioning, still very much
enjoying too.
I almost grew up in Delhi.
Did my college from DU. I am back after six years. Some of the gigantic changes
that I am witnessing shock me, others surprise me pleasantly, and still others
leave me nostalgic. How did I live without bhalla papdi, bhel puri, gol gappa,
I wonder? How did I shop when it wasn’t Sarojini Nagar, Karol Bagh or Janpath,
I ponder? But I am back, and am enjoying every taste, khatti, meethi and lots
of teekhi!
Kismat ko aazmaane
Tere dar pe aaye hai hum
Gar Dilli dilwalon ki
hai
To sapne dekhenge hum
Inhe na tod deejiye
Tere nakhre uthaenge
hum
Monday, February 20, 2012
Loving and Fooding!
I know that
to make a dinner romantic, all you need is two pairs of clasped hands and two
pairs of eyes mirrored in each other. The food could be caviar and champagne or
two cans of coke and bread pakode. However, when you plan to take out a loved
one for dinner, you want a quiet place, that fills your mood with romance. So,
I looked at the most romantic restaurants that I have been to in the three
cities that I have spent my life in, after the arrival of romance. Let me add
that none of the restaurants I am talking about here are expensive, very handy
for college goers or those who have just started drawing their salares.
New Delhi:
Pebble Street
| A pebbled street in Santa Fe, Colombia |
It seems a
long time ago that I used to go here. My first time was when I was fresh on my
second job. Ever since I have recommended it to many people, and have had many
dates with my beau then. Sometimes, visiting places here in Colombia remind me
of this little place, because the floor is literally made of cut stones,
resembling an actual pebble street. And many of the Spanish settlements of the
olden days had the same for roads. So, the ambience gets a lot of marks for
resembling like an old European colony. I remember dressing up in a long skirt
and a peasant top once, to feel even more authentic. And don’t worry, the food
is fantastic too. My favourite order used to be Mushy Buttons, a plateful of
mushrooms filled with cheese along with a very spicy dip. Apart from
continental, the menu also comprises of Indian and South-East Asian. I remember
my Dad ordered Indonesian food there! You can check out the menu here. And now
the best part: they serve liquor. Find out the time for happy hours!
Bangalore:
Bewhaha
Whoever
came up with this concept is an absolute genius. Yes, it is not just a café but
also a concept. You don’t just get food for your tummy here, but for your
brains too! You can choose to rent from sixty-five different board games, which
you can enjoy while you munch on sandwiches, pakode, samosa or sip on the likes
of Calvin Brew Milkshake (absolutely naughty and yummy!) or the Pan Galactic
Gurgle Blaster. The service is tailor made for you to feel cool and cared for. There
is even a person who helps you select a game and I have heard they also arrange
for hobby workshops and hip-hop classes. The area is very near to Jyoti Nivas
College and several offices, so that the crowd is always nice. Along with tables
and chairs, they also have floor sitting, where you would often catch a big
college crowd chilling out with a board game. Don’t fret, there are games for
two people too. Just check this place out with your chosen one. And if you are
alone, there are a range of books too!
Medellin:
Bon Vent
| Parque Lleras |
At first
glance, this is just an Italian fast food place. I have ordered pizzas from
here, especially for my vegan friends, and they have loved it. Its difficult to
find vegan food in this city. So, the reason I visited the place last night was
for the thin but soft pizza crust. And I was pleasantly surprised. Its a small
place tucked away in one of the corners of Parque Lleras. There are only five
tables, only one person to wait on all and probably only one cook inside, but
the food is lovely and inexpensive! We ordered a simple pepperoni pizza and a
portion of wings in barbecue sauce and savored every bite. Their pizzas are
square in shape; I found that easier to pick up. The romantic part is that the
seating opens out into the pavement, which appeared to be less busy than other
lanes of Parque Lleras. So, on a cool summer night, there is you and your
bright eyes and good food. What else do you want? Oh, yes! Every place here
serves liquor. There was a whole rack of wine bottles!
If you are
in any of these cities and happen to take my advice about any of the above restaurants,
lemme know if you liked them.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Frenchman's Creek by Daphne du Maurier
What could
be more romantic than falling in love with a pirate who is as charming as any gentleman?
In a sentence, that is the story of ‘Frenchman’s Creek,’ a novel by Daphne du
Maurier, the author of ‘Rebecca.’ I have read romances in my time, but none can
appeal to me more than this one right now. The heroine Dona is a married woman
with two children. She is the rich wife, whose husband is slower than her, unmindful
of the mild flirtation his friend Rockingham carries on with Dona. Bored of her
life in London, Dona takes her two children and comes to Navaron, her husband’s
property on the Cornish coast. And while trying to have some peace, she
stumbles upon an adventure. She discovers that a French pirate, who has been
terrorizing the neighbourhood has been hiding right on her property. When Dona
tries to investigate further, she gets captured, only to discover that the
pirate is a very educated, cultured person, who, just like her has taken to
piracy only because of boredom. Dona joins his crew and has the time of her
life. But her fun is short lived, as she realizes her responsibilities and
refuses to sail away with her love.
The story
is an escape to a fantasy, which is ridiculously unlikely to happen. Daphne du
Maurier herself wrote it at a time when she was overwhelmed by the worldly responsibilities
of life. But its her. Her genius is felt in the suspense and the words chosen
to create the romance. The impact I felt was a languid drowsiness that I let
caress me like the winds on the Cornish coast. Dona is a woman who is present
in each one of us women. She is the one who rebels against norms that
patriarchal societies have bound her with and yearns for the same freedom that
men save for themselves.
Unfortunately,
I am really happily married and the pirate I love is sitting in this room even
as I type. So, I never get to do anything illegally exciting. But we’ve had our
share of adventures. We still do, when the ordinariness of life springs unexpected
surprises at us now and then.
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