Sunday, June 22, 2014

I was waiting at the bus stop for a bus near work. I was observing this group of three people, a mother and two kids. If i remember correctly, the elder kid was a girl and younger one was a boy. During the wait, the mother spat on the road. The girl emulated the mother perfectly, i guess trying to prove some point. Her actions suggested it. She did it twice.

This is one of the few things about Delhi that i don't like. I have mentioned this in my previous posts as well. I am sure that the girl will continue with her new habit. I don't know if people in the North chew more betel leaves, pan masalas or tobacco than in the south.

Sad and distasteful to say the least.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

This is so miserable. I was going to write on how nice the weather is outside. I didn't think of writing anything else which does not sound so good. Yesterday when watching tv, i knew that some channels were showing good movies, but i still chose to watch an okish movie that i have seen many timed over. I guess it's the work. You just want some easy entertainment. It should be ok to miss out on a few dialogues, scenes and you still want to follow the story.

That said, i will try writing about some of the scenes i saw in Delhi. Some of which i know sounds, no, you will rather figure out what my opinions are.

Sunday, June 08, 2014

After having had a breakfast of eggs and bread, i am brewing my tea. I will be drinking it in a few minutes time. The heat during the afternoons is so bright that you can't look without crinking your eyes in the bright sunlight unless you have sunglasses on.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Yesterday when i was waiting, most of the voices around me were speaking Bengali. It has been some time since i have heard this many. I was in C. R. Park and i shouldn't expect to hear any other language. Hindi is also heard but Bengali drowns it.

I was walking by Market 2 after a month or so. There was a small traffic jam there. The way of entrance was by the fish stalls, and i covered my nose. I did smell the inevitable whiff. I headed to a store to buy something, where the person in-charge spoke to me in Bengali. I didn't bother telling him i was not one. I saw people sitting, buying fried savouries and sweets from a Bengali sweet shop. A friend and i used to visit this place every weekend in the evenings. We ate, drank and talked. One thing that surprised and disappointed me about that place is that tea sold in the tea stall is not very good.

This is something i miss. I miss spending time in C. R. Park. I still can go to there but, i would be alone and that's no fun at all. The markets in Delhi are very attractive in the evenings. Alaknanda Market too. There's nothing fancy. That said, the crowd and more importantly, the atmosphere there is really appealing.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

There is this road which opens into another perpendicular to the former. Similar to majority of the roads constructed everywhere. I sometimes use this road to go to a nearby market or to buy fruits from one of these handcarts. There is a handcart amongst some others which dot this road. In the evenings, this is generally manned by a boy about ten years old. I address him as 'chotu', after observing that adults generally address young boys by this word.

Though he is just another young boy, i tend to think that this boy is endearing. I walk to him, unknowingly point at bitter gourds, ask him the price of cucumbers. He then corrects me and asks me if i want bitter gourds. I tell him 'No, i want cucumbers, how much is one kg?' He quotes a price and looks at me. The eyes are lined with kohl, a shining face, the shine added by some perspiration and some oil that has seeped in from his shock of dishevelled oiled hair.

I say nothing and i start walking away. He calls behind me 'Didi, come here'. He lowers the price and waits to see if i turn around and head back to the cart and buy it from him. What exuded from him was pure childhood innocence. Maybe, the thought of exchanging a few words with him made me go near his cart, even though i didn't want to buy anything from him. Maybe.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

I walk down Lodhi Road from the Indian Habitat Centre (where i sometimes work) to the nearest metro station in the evening. When the Sun has already set or still borders the horizon, hence making the sky appear in orange and crimson and a myriad of other shades in between. Across the road are the Lodhi Gardens and the residences of some of India's politicians and other people of that class of our society.

In the corners of the road, are the traffic lights (red light or lal batti as they called in Delhi) to guide automobiles to stream one after another in various directions. As i stand in one such corner, near one such traffic signal waiting for it to turn green so that i can cross the road, i turn around to see if something else catches my eye. I do see.

I see a man in his late forties, squatting in front of a raised platform. This man is dressed in a shirt and a dhoti which was once white, both hugging his thin frame. He is one of the million nondescript laborers that keeps a huge city like Delhi on its feet. A small piece of aluminum foil glitters in the semi-dark environment. Some small cuts of paper and a powdered substance lies on the foil. He rolls some of the substance into the paper and lifts the new roll to his lips.

Turning to look at the traffic signal, i see that it is green and i cross the road. No, i didn't look back at the man smoking a drug, maybe ganja or smack.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

I sit on one of the million terraces in Delhi, bend my head backwards to see planes fly by. Guess the airspace above the area I stay is the route which most flights take when flying in or out of Delhi.

I can hear two-three cars honking. As I type, the number it vehicles just increased. It will continue until the jam there is resolved. People love honking here.

The terrace is surrounded by trees, thankfully. As vehicles drive on the road two storeys down, that part of the road, rather that part of the foliage lights up minimally. 

Friday, April 25, 2014

Taking a stroll in Saraswatipuram. Eating from one of the chat gaaDis' there. Walking down the road to SJCE. And eating somewhere near SJCE, especially in the evenings. Followed by a milkshake at Kannan Bakery. Sitting on the front porch of the Dept. of Biochemistry and chatting away - A, J, L and whoever else can make it. Driving across the university on a bike. Catching up with Y, G, PK with whom i haven't spoken to for years. Eating at Mahesh Prasad. Talking, talking and more talking. A or L dropping me at the Railway Station. Amongst other things.

Two weeks ago, i was invited to a celebration (if i can term it so) at Mysore. Unfortunately, I couldn't go. But i so wished. For a few days, all my thoughts were on Mysore. It's been a few years since i visited it. So now, in between work, i thought, why shouldn't i write about it.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

I am sitting cross-legged on my bed. When the skin between the two calves of my legs between to sweat, i change my position. I don't actually, i give them a few seconds when unfolding and then i cross them again. I am listening to a Kannada song sung by SPB and Chitra, and once again decide that both are fantastic.

Read a mishmash of things in the afternoon today. Will read more tomorrow. And maybe post something sensible.

Saturday, April 05, 2014

These days i wouldn't prefer not going to malls to hang out. The food there is expensive, yes, and the malls in Delhi (my observation) are 'uber-materialistic' (maybe this is a little exaggerated, but you do get me, right?). One can see a lot of fancy stuff there, and if you have money to spend and want to buy things, these are the ideal locations. I would go on to say that Delhi being what it is, is aping the West than Bangalore.

That said, malls are sheltered and air-conditioned which is pretty much the reason why i would want to hang-out with my friends there.

Coming back to the Delhi and its association with fancy things - one of the things that i, personally don't appreciate (i really can' figure out the right word to use here) is the fact that people as in women make up their faces even when they stay at home. To have your lips coloured is a very normal thing is Delhi. I have seen women from different social strata (this is only my observation, and is not a generalization) doing it. Still haven't figured out a reason why.

This was something to me. I remember having told my parents that we wear clothes and other things to shield ourselves from the external environment and clothes, shoes, jewellery, body-care all evolved from there.

P.S. I am not a saint. I like to buy things too. I bought silver jewellery last week.
P.P.S. It's been eight years on this blog!