I've found a new place , I might just keep it. So keep dropping into
One Billion Rising
In the orange dress with plastic gloves is a volunteer , who was helping out in collecting the wrappers and bottles around. Some song started , and she stopped in the midst of the crowd and energetically danced away. Throwing her hands up in the air and twirling she didn't make eye contact with the hundreds around her, she didn't seem like she was familiar with the 15 odd people standing close to her. She didn't pass around smiles to get to k now them. She just was...dancing .
Dilli in Janvary - some scribbles
Hauz
Khas Complex
We wanted to go to an outlet at Hauz Khas
Village and that’s how I stumbled upon the Hauz Khas Complex. It swept me off my feet, in slow motion. Was surprised
to find that a crazy number of youngsters had parked their backsides there,
enjoying the winter sun.
As the camera
was accumulating dust in Hyderabad, I strolled around lazily and took in the
activity. Two Bengali boys with a camera arguing jocularly about photo credits,
a group looking for flat space to sit around for birthday celebrations (cake, cold drinks the
works), another one (all girls) looking for “privacy” to bring out their stash
of cigarettes and alcohol and yet another group of boys with a guitar
merrily singing away. Of course, twosomes, looking for a cosy corner. Lots of
cameras. A security fella walking around with his lathi . No one was in anyone else’s way and I was not pushed and
shoved despite the crowd.
A sense of deep peace amidst such a high energy space. I've only felt that once before and that was ironically (for some) on my way back to the hostel , one humid night in a Bombay local.
Zoo
Another feel good day in the city was at the Zoo. My memories of the place are of otters (I think that’s what they were), a white tiger, a white peacock, a very pale skinned snake and a happy picture of all of us on a bench under a tree (a winter afternoon).
After a lot of clash in plans and traffic
jams that almost made me weep, we did finally make it to the Zoo . The steps
leading inside threw up a memory or two. A tiny me worrying that all of us
would get lost in the crowd on the stairs and another one of Preeti prancing
around on the same stairs (must have been two different visits). I think this
pretty much defines how we were as children.
Mum recalled that during the years when she carted us all here, the Zoo was full of a variety of people (nationality, class, regions etc). This time however not much of that was on display. What did really surprise me was that fact that the Delhi folks were actually much better behaved than the mass we encountered at the Hyderabad Zoo. The Hyderabad crowd was crazy, unruly, harassing the animals with shouts and pebbles and their attempts to feed them. Both experiences were contrary to my unconscious expectations (stereotype?).
This trip the four of us strolled around
saw the residents, played with random kids, talked and laughed. We had great
time with one or the other periodically exclaiming “abe who dekh” or its Malayalam equivalent. Papa couldn't believe that
the crocodile was for real (he says it was cast in stone!) , Preeti fell in
love with a Hippo, Mum let out a series of exclamations when she saw some brilliantly
coloured large parrots and I’m starting
to take hesitant steps towards appreciating the city again.
Discovering the complex, the lake and
walking through the zoo with all this life throbbing around was very
refreshing. Refreshing is not an association I easily make with the city, maybe
it was the warm winter sun and the slight chill in the air that worked its
magic. Dilli ki sardiyon ki dhoop. Never mind the allergic sniffles and the fact
that it takes miraculous will power to get out of the blanket on winter
mornings.
Looking forward to being home again …..soon.
Thanks Preeti for the images (psst ...can I have some of the Zoo please , especially the one where you managed to make the Emu look evil?).
Post Script- The emu is here now!
Post Script- The emu is here now!
Christmas in Hyderabad
After spending a few Christmases away from home I
thought this year I might not miss it much. I was wrong. I pined for carols and
you tube versions didn't hold a flame to the laughing giggling carolers who
came by each year. Nor did it lessen my longing for choir practice where we struggled
to stay faithful to what we were taught and experiment with twists during the
breaks. I now understand a little better why mum and so many others break their
backs baking cakes and goodies. I did my share this year. Cakes cookies etc more
than what the three of us could do justice to and then baked more for
colleagues!
While Christmas mass had long lost its charm ( I think the
loss of charm coincided with my irritations for a certain parish priest) , I
still wanted to step inside a church soak in the feel.
A colleagues suggestions on the churches in
Secunderabad piqued my curiosity.
Nimesh and I hopped to a couple - St Mary's , Good News
Baptist, CSI Diocese of Medak and finally the Spanish Mosque.
St Mary's was overflowing with people and the Mass was in
progress. We sat for a bit and were leaving when the homily/sermon started. I
stopped dead in my track when I heard the the pretty much atonal priest sing
" Its only words and words are all I have ....." aieeeeee! He went on to
address the puzzled congregation and draw links between the beaten to death
Boyzone number and Jesus as " word becoming flesh"!
As much as the attempt seemed desperate and populist , I had
to give it to him, he got my attention. This being in marked difference from
the time I found my distance from church . I remember series of messages from
the parish priests and the likes urging/demanding that we sing only "acceptable
carols" and "conventional versions". What was puzzling was that as a choir we weren't even moderately experimental to start with. Wonder what got their knickers in knots? Another lot emphasized that the
congregation should not even hum the final parts of the Eucharistic prayer
let alone sing it along with the priest! There were frowns (only from the
priests and the purists) when we sang "When a child is born" as it
was too close to the Boney M version.
This experience at St Mary's left me puzzled in puzzled smiles.
Next stop was the CSI , Diocese of Medak and
definitely it was the highlight of the day. The church was deserted when we
got there and sunlight streamed in through the large windows. Minimally adorned
with Christmas finery, simple huge benches reminding me of some old sofa I've
seen in Kerala. We spent a good half hour soaking in the place and moved on to
the Spanish Mosque. Here I was not allowed to enter (being female) and resented it
every bit.
But nonetheless , a little bit of Christmas cheer left its
mark on me and I went back to happy baking in the evening. Yes , its not the same without familiar faces , family and the choir , but we all reinvent traditions as we move along and carry a feel of what was best in our past. Sometimes it takes a day like yesterday to revisit the memories , hold them closer and send up a thanks for having them in your life.
Merry Christmas
everyone!
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