Millions of dreams astray
Millions of battles lost
One small desire achieved
One small world is what I Got………..

I was watching ‘Hazaron Khowashien Aisi’. It’s a film by Sudhir Mishra that depicts those turbulent seventies. I had heard a lot about this film back in Kolkata. They said it’s good. Delhites I met actually trashed it. They said it’s unwise to spend money on taxing their already fatigued brains. David Dhawan was their choice really. But honestly – I am somewhat midway between the two worlds. I absolutely adore the movie and at the same time feel exhausted after watching it. Not a perfect Saturday night treat, eh?

Memories and desires keep coming back entwined with each other. The film actually took me back to the days I spent in Birbhum, West Bengal. Standing under a star studded sky amidst the autumn grass, we had talked about changing the world. We had regular meetings in shivering candle light. Tribal people from in and around the village came to hear us town folks speak their language. Kunal would start the singing, with the village folks eventually joining in. Habilda would give his toothy smile before starting on his patent notes. Accompanied by Madol and dhol – we would, town and tribals together, beat the rhythms with steps wavering under the influence of native liquor called Mahua. I learnt so many things, heard so many stories, enriched myself in so many ways … and in the end … felt disillusioned. Why did we just talk? Ok, ok – I know all the stuff about discourse and power, but nothing really was happening. The schools were running, but did the children learn? The kitchen gardening was on, but were they in fruition? We had our meetings, but did the people get the message? Yes – we had stopped illegal stone quarries in our region, but did the practice stop altogether? There were a million questions unanswered.

I remember Pablo. I had also asked myself the same questions and come to Vikram’s conclusion. Rich kids can strut around on Castro and Che Guevara, but I can’t. I have to earn my own living before thinking of livelihood issues, and I preferred not to make money out of the NGO mill. Oh no – that was not my cup of tea.

I have been to the fringes of the NGO world and could smell the stink of rotten inside. Adultery, corruption, incest, alcohol and intoxicating smoke rattled my brain. Not to deny – I had also tasted that forbidden fruit. “Make contacts and climb upwards” … I was told. I could not contact and took the road out.

But I still think there are people, unlike me, who really have their beliefs in place. They do not primarily want to mill money out of the desires and dreams of a changed world. Precisely – they are no dream merchants. They simply work and work very hard. To them is this page, and I guess the movie too, are dedicated.

I am miles away from all those days and dreams. I sit with my PC and write blogs these days. Do I dream? I really don’t know as I doze off the moment my tired bones get close to the bed. But those who still dream – may their worlds be won. May their desires fulfilled.

One small desire … can I have a small glass of Mahua made available in Delhi?

My satanic wishes should rather go astray.

May I just win my world, my room – with a small view from where I will be able to see those starry nights and hear the tribal drum beats once more?

Dazzling Delhi



People often ask me why I came to Delhi. Leaving the cosy comforts of my home town ... coming to a city where I don’t even know the names of vegetables available in the market ... how wise was a decision like this? I don’t vouch for my wisdom anyways. But to be honest, it wasn’t a step taken in a moment. I had been to this city before and had been dazzled by it. Now that the initial glimmer has worn out - I stand in a position to see my naiveté.

Last time I came here I had only been to the glam places. Well - You see, I was just a stupid tourist then. Maharaja Mac at McDonalds made me thought that Delhi is Yummy! How would I know then that the food I was used to is almost a delicacy here! You want a bottle of yellow ghee - you have to travel an hour to Chittaranjan Park, an area dominated by the fish eating Bengalis. The broad roads, CNG driven (and I know now that it means 'Compressed Natural Gas') vehicles, awe inspiring historical monuments, ethnic handicrafts, and above all - proximity of snow capped mountains and deserts - had left me wanting more of this place.

God has been good to me - I am having a mouthful of Delhi. Slogging through the day, I make just enough money to pay my bills and buy a dress or two. Going on a holiday? Who's going to explain to the BOSS? And as they say 'The boss is always right'. So - my often dreamt tour plans have been limited to Chandni Chowk and Lajpat Nagar market. Never mind - time is good and endless. So - may be some other time - I console myself.

One good thing has happened though! I have learnt the trick of travelling by public transport in Delhi. You board it through the back door, get the ticket from the conductor who lazes in his throne uncontested (and do not dare travel WT as that might lead you to unspeakable harassments!), sit if you are lucky or endure the unwelcome masculinity, and then struggle your way up to the front door for a safe exit. Delhi buses were horrors for me in the beginning. I did not know that the conductor is the king and unlike the ones pestering for tickets in my hometown - they do not even ask for it. Slowly, and very slowly I must admit, I am also learning the routes. One day, hopefully, I will be able to guide other hapless newcomers to their destination.

Continued…

I am still trying to find my room with a view.

Sitting in my small room (Literally a 'room' though the handwritten ad had said "One room set") in congested area of south Delhi, I can but dream of such a room. Well - I must mention that I came here to achieve that small thing - having a room with a view. Wait - there's a catch. It cant be just any room - but my room with a view exclusively for ME.

This is Katwariya Sarai (and I wonder why are there so many 'Sarai's in Delhi!) - a student infested area where you get cheap accomodation and free techno music throughout the night. Most of the young, jeans clad people out here are trying to make their careers. However - there are other strange species in this area as well. They lurk in the corners of this junkyard, escaping their past and groping for their future. Lo - I think I just defined myself! I am old enough to be dragging two reluctant kids to the nearby prep school. But here I am - burning midnight oil in a room that hoards nothing more than a P4 (well- that's the best I could afford) and some books. God - help me - where's my room? And how can I forget the view?

I am what I am. A woman alone in an unknown city.

There are actually two windows in this room - and both are always closed. I dare not open them - lest someone crawls in through the unhinged open windows. I am so selfish really - I want the window to let me out to the world - to give me a view - at the same time hiding me from the world's view.

Well - you see, I said it. I am what I am. I am a woman - alone - unknow city - so...the windows are, for the time being, closed to me.

But - someday - they are going to open - and I am going to have my own Room with a View.

...continued