After 3.5 years, I spent about two weeks in Delhi as a part
of an assignment. Having been a resident
of Delhi for two years, and despite mixed feelings about my residence there, I
was keen to go back and relive my earlier days.
Travel to India always excites me, but, it starts with a bad
taste.
Getting Indian visa is not easy but the Indian visa process has become a
lot easier in recent years. An eVisa can
be obtained through an online portal,
which is not easy to navigate and crash
you out if all instructions are not strictly followed. There are even stringent restrictions on the
size of files to be uploaded. Once the
application is complete – it took me more than two hours, then the eVisa is
received via email after three days.
Phew!
I flew to Delhi from Sydney by Air India, which offers a
non-stop direct flight of 12 hours. Air
India flies a 787-800 Dreamliner, which is one of the modern aircrafts. It regulates light and noise to maximise
comfort to the passengers. The airfare
was competitive; there’s an excellent
choice of movies on-demand, three sumptuous Indian meals in 12 hours, and a generous
supply of alcohol. Some of the
electronics of the plane had been tampered
with, probably due to ignorance of previous passengers on how to use them. The flight was exclusively of North Indians, most
were Moms and Dads in their sixties, travelling to be with their sons and
daughters, who had chosen Australia HOME.
All in all, the flight was very comfortable. Younger Immigration Officers at Delhi Indira
Gandhi Airport are more courteous than their older peers. Older ones tend to be nosy, or picky, or
both. Despite them, Delhi IGA is one of
the modern and efficient airports, I had
been through.
My travel to Delhi coincided with me watching a movie, Delhi
in a Day (2012), and reading a book titled, White Tiger by Arvind Adiga.
Delhi in a Day is about Bhatia Family, a middle class - middle
aged couple with a grown – unmarried daughter, and her grand-father. Their lifestyle is supported by seven servants, who also live in the same
house. After being accused of stealing
money from an English houseguest, the Bhatia family servants have only 24 hours
to replace the cash or face arrest.
But the offender was the grown-up daughter, and the Mother was willing
to sacrifice a loyal and old servant to protect the daughter. The White Tiger is about a Boss and his
Driver. The Driver wants to become a
Boss, kills the Boss, run-away to become another Boss, and ends us doing
everything that was unacceptable to him
when he was a Driver.
The movie and book follow my imagination of India; there are
two Indias - one a rich/educated India of 300 million people, whose lifestyle is supported by the poor/less educated 900
million Indians. During my travel,
intentionally or otherwise, I was looking for evidences to support my imagination
and corroborate what I observed in the movie and the book. It was not difficult.
The Congress Party was in power when I lived in Delhi, and I
was curious how things have changed with BJP at the Centre and AAP in charge of
Delhi NCR. There are improvements, the
City looked cleaner, and except for fewer instances, the traffic was tolerable. Still, there’s a long way for Delhi to go to
be comparable to modern capitals. Air pollution, in particular, is atrocious, partly
due to geographic factors, but also due to the apathy that exist among Delhiites. In fact, one of the Indian Novelists, Pankaj
Mishra, claims that the successful Delhiites consider that it is their right to
litter and pollute the city at their whim, and they take pride in doing so. I hope he is proven wrong.
The Guesthouse I stayed in was very much like the guest-house in
the movie, Delhi in a Day. A couple, two
daughters and a son, supported by about 7 live-in servants. They rent three of their rooms
to guests at a reasonable price, and it’s a good value for money. Most of the servants are with them for well
over twenty years, who serve the family and the Guests who stay there. The Couple were very welcoming and hospitable. The servants were very prompt to meet any
requests from the Guests. Fortunately,
my experience at the Guesthouse was much better than what happened to the Guest
in the movie.
My transport from the
Guesthouse to my office was arranged by the Agency I was consulting with. I
was picked-up on time in a Diplomatic Plated car – a real symbol of power in
Delhi. I had none of the power, but my hosts thought that I had. I did not try to dissuade them. Usually, the drivers in Asia are very
resourceful, but most will offer the information,
only when asked. The driver assigned to
me was also very resourceful, and he volunteered information without asking,
and I was very happy to receive. He told
me that he ran away from his parents when he was 15. He is now in his fifties, he is married and his daughter is doing a MS
degree. He spoke about Hinduism at length, and told me about a few cults that I did
not know about. I noticed that he was a voracious reader of
internet. One day, he wanted to talk to
me about free-radicals and oxidative-stress.
I quietly listened – I had nothing to add.
The driver will return me to the Guesthouse after 5 pm, and I
had nothing to do till I go to sleep.
The room I stayed did not have a Television, and the Guesthouse had a
fixed menu for dinner. I thought I
deserved better in Delhi, and, I sure did make
the most of it.
The guesthouse I lived was about 1.5 km from Karol Bagh, a
major shopping area in Delhi. I could
easily walk, do some shopping and get some dinner. I could have a delicious meal for 5 USD or
less. I could have Chicken Biriyani for
less than than a dollar. There are Delhi
Styled FOOD-Courts everywhere. Within a
50 sq m space, food from different states are offered at street corners. There’s standing space only, and I did not
like the way used plates and containers were disposed of. The food is made in front of you, so, it’s up
to you to eat it or not. I could not
resist a south Indian stall, where I had Uthappam and Vada for less than 2 USD.
I also did some Indian dress shopping at Karol Bagh for my
wife and daughters. Another place for
cheap-shopping is Paalika Bazar near Rajiv Chowk. Shop keepers will demand very high prices,
but, I had a thumb rule for prices there.
I think of the price in Sydney, divide by three and make a counter
offer. In almost all cases they will
agree. Another place to visit in Delhi
is Dilli Haat, where handcrafts and food from various Indian States are on
offer. If you are lucky, you could also
attend a regional music concert or a dance programme, there. I am told
that shopping and street food at Chandni Chowk are exceptional, but unfortunately I could not go there.
There were plenty of massage parlours in Delhi, most of them
are cover for brothels. There are
exceptions too, and one of them is Pachouli at Rajendra Nagar. Very modern, reasonably priced (35 USD for one
hour oil massage and a steam bath), I really
felt refreshing. After the ‘treatment’,
I was offered a cup of tea in their cafe,
and witnessed a Senior Staff counselling a young female client on diet and
nutrition. The young women looked rich,
modern and pretty. Still, there was
anxiety on her face as she paid attention to the Dietician. She must have very caring parents who have
send her to Pachouli, but, unhappy the way things were to her, I thought. I wonder what was, or who was bothering
her!
Unfortunately, no sooner I got out of the parlour, my body
and mind went back to the conditions, prior to
the massage. Sadly, Delhi’s ambience is so punishing.
I travelled everywhere in Delhi by public transport. For less than 50 Cents US, I could go
anywhere within Delhi in an air-conditioned bus. They are not particularly comfortable, and every
time the bus shifts it gears, it ensures that our bones get a free jolt. And, after 6 pm or so, these buses are 50%
empty. I practiced my broken Hindi with
my fellow passengers or the conductor, who often replied to me in their broken
English.
Hindustani Music Concert at IHC
A sitar concert at IHC - The Sitarist deserved better audience!
An Israeli Pianist at IHC - It was almost House Full, and he played non-stop for 90 minutes.
Now to the best part of my stay in Delhi – The India Habitat
Centre. Its website claims, “the INDIA
HABITAT CENTRE was conceived to provide a physical environment which would
serve as a catalyst for a synergetic relationship between individuals and
institutions working in diverse habitat related areas and therefore, maximise
their total effectiveness. To facilitate this interaction, the Centre provides
a range of facilities”. So it
does.
My attraction to it was the free
movies, concerts, and dance programmes. There
was something that interested me every day.
Within my 13 day stay, I went there five days. During the period, I was there, the same
month India was celebrating its 70th year of Independence, there
were a string of movies related to its independence, and socio-cultural issues
ensued. Movies watched were (1) Kushwant
Singh’s Train to Pakistan, (2) three short films on Kashmir – Waiting, Rizwaan,
and Goodbye, May fly and (3) Shyam Benegal’s Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose.
All three short movies depicted the suffering
of Kashmiris since 1989, when the
militancy and army activities started. There
was a discussion among patrons, moderated by a Delhi University Professor soon
after the short films. Unfortunately,
the discussion moved away from the artistic nature of movies, to the conflict itself. Having lived in Pakistan, and listening to
the emotional outbursts from both sides, I could not see an end to this
conflict.
Chennai Airport Welcomes You.
The Hall with One-Thousand Pillars at Madurai Meenakshi Amman Temple
Sri Ranganatheswarar Temple, Trichy
After two weeks in Delhi, I went to Tamil Nadu for a
week. Despite Tamil being my mother
tongue, I am surprised that I am now more comfortable in Delhi, than in
Chennai, a city I had been many time since 1980’s. Delhi has a tendency to engulf you with
time. It is not just its history and its
monuments. It’s the people I meet, the
characters in the movie I watched and the book I just read.
I love Delhi as much as I hate it, and I am sure I will get back there, sooner or later.
I love Delhi as much as I hate it, and I am sure I will get back there, sooner or later.
