there are few things in the world as beautiful as CP on a warm winter morning. its obvious Victorian architecture is modelled after the royal crescent , bath.i find the tall white columns particularly intriguing. they have been witness to a remarkable series of lives and times of this city.
built at the high noon of the most powerful empire in human social history, they withstood its decay and eventual fall.
post independence, they provided the fuel for a new nation to dream. the towering giants became a benchmark for the nation's expectations and ambitions.
post liberalization Indian is a nation of a million malls and multiplexes , each a better clone of the previous.there are new cities which have all the commerce and computers. each of them is beautiful and has its own history.yet, there's this one city which has seen more dynasties rising and falling than any other. truly, one city in a million.
i may be showing borderline jingoism, but i love the place.
travelling across Delhi you can actually see the marks that time has cast upon its sturdy frame. in a way, its a perfect stitching tape between raj nostalgia and a global Indian identity.
a rich tapestry with threads of all dimensions.
on janpath a huge demonstration is underway. the BJP mahila morcha has major grievances against the incumbent Delhi government.the protest march is against the hike in prices of essential goods. the speaker is lamenting how her entire household budget is in constant disarray.
by the time i am out of earshot i have ended up memorizing the prices of milk, potato, tomato and of course onion due to over repetition :-)
i try finding a coffee shop.
it takes me half an hour.
clearly, a career in navigation holds no glory for me.
after a lifetime spent in knowing things i can't do..i just hope i come across something to the contrary ...:-)
a sign board catches my attention, "ring road Honda"..right in the middle of CP...geography lessons seem to be a national priority...lol
my stomach resembles a colony of butterflies in all hues and colors. butterflies of anticipation , those of confusion and the permanent ones of hunger.
90 minutes later
the man at the metro counter returns ninety rupees including a very dirty twenty rupees note which seems to have served as the canvass for many a budding artists.i make a mental note of using the note on the metro only , next time i come.
every time at the ticket counter i remember everyone who has ever goaded me to take a smart card, cutting down on the need to visit the ticket counter everyday.
i haven't obliged.
here are the reasons :
1. i always have extra time so token buying helps me busy myself
2.certain counters are manned ( or maybe wommaned/girled) by pretty girls at certain times of the day.
3.bureaucratic inertia
4.a caste specific desire to get something every time one spends anything
10 minutes later
a fourth individual asks me which is the metro to the university.
next time when i take the metro i should better make sure that im not wearing any metro employee lookalike shirts.
the train stops
two Chinese ladies are forced to use the entire range of their marshal arts skills to disembark in the face of an onrush of midday commuters.
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