232. Glimpses of Bangkok: 1: Bangkok Art and Culture Center

Bangkok was never in my "To Visit" list.  Suddenly I had to come to Bangkok for some work. First surprise was the name of the Bangkok airport - "Suvarnbhumi" (Golden Land).  My first impression of the city on that Thursday night was good. Wide roads, no traffic jam, and shining skyscrapers. The receptionist at the hotel welcomed me by folding both the hands. It was only next day that I realized that this hand-folded welcome is the traditional Thai greetings.

My plan was simple. Work on Friday, leave Bangkok on Saturday morning. However, the work remained unfinished on Saturday and I had two full unplanned days in this world famous tourist destination. It was very humid with no sign of rain. So, I decided to go slow, visit only couple of places. On Saturday morning when I left the hotel, I saw that the roads within the city were narrow.

I had finalized two spots on Saturday, for which Sky Train was more convenient. I was staying in Sukhumvit area and the nearest Sky Train Station was 'Asok'.

In the station there was a counter where we can exchange notes for coins and use the coins to get a ticket from the vending machines. There were maps in the station and the exact amount needed for each station was displayed, so there was no problem in purchasing the right ticket.

There were regular announcements in the station and in the train. I smiled when I heard a station name "Nana".  The Sky Train was crowded but the crowds were disciplined. I have traveled for considerable time by Delhi Metro and I noted certain differences in Delhi Metro and Bangkok Sky Train.

Delhi Metro has a reserved coach for women, which Bangkok Sky Train does not have. Second: Bangkok Sky Train has sliding glass doors on platform also - which Delhi Metro does not have.

In Delhi Metro, each passenger has to go through personal security. Here in Bangkok one has to enter through metal dictator, there is a security official, but they not necessarily check every passenger again. The instructions show how Buddhist Monks are respected.

The 'Sky Train' map was also printed on the ticket, so I had no difficulty in reaching Siam station. After coming out of the station I was confused about the direction I needed to take. I spotted a 'Tourist Information Center' just outside the station and the staff there, guided me to reach at 'Bangkok Art and Culture Center'.  There is no entrance fee.

I had assumed this place to be a museum and I was partially right. This nine-storey building has paintings, sculpture, handicrafts, woodcraft, ceramic art,music and design displays. There are couple of book stores and an Art Library.  There are coffee shops where one can have lengthy discussions over a cup of coffee. When it comes to art, I am almost illiterate. However, I was in this center for more than three hours and enjoyed the visit. Here are some of the snapshots from the Center.

                          

                         

                        

                        

It was good to see that the information of the artists was also displayed.

There was some experience/experiment related to sound waves. This was something new for me. There were number of photographs on the walls. Each photograph was given a unique number.  Every person entering the exhibition hall was handed over a small cellphone-like handset.

One was expected to type the photograph number on this machine, press the green  button and hold the machine near the ear. For different photographs, I could hear different sound waves (if I am using the right term!), but I could not understand what it was all about. For people more interested in this, the following photograph might be of some help.

I was surprised to see this huge wall poster of the Hindi film in the Art section. Is this film already released in India?

I was feeling tired as I was walking for more than three hours.  When I asked for the directions of my next destinations, I realized that it was nearby. So, I continued walking with enthusiasm.

To be continued ...

215. Glimpses of Nairobi

I was forced to stay overnight in Nairobi because I missed my connecting flight due to delay in the earlier flight. Transit visa, hotel, transport etc was arranged by the airline (as is the normal); so I was not required to commute within the city on my own. So, I cannot claim to have "visited Nairobi". As I had no plans to stop over, I had not taken any efforts to get some information about the city. So, I can safely say that while sharing some photographs with you, I am penning few lines. 

When we approached Nairobi, from the sky, it looked beautiful. 

The scene reminded me that human beings have always fought with nature; and what we call "human culture" is an outcome of conflict between human beings and nature! 

The green belt and the blue belt - they represent two conflicting ideologies. It is certain that we cannot live without the green. But can we really live without the blue as well? How can we travel to the past? Is it necessary? Or we can still balance these two approaches?

And then signs of Industrial world. Later, a Kenya national informed me that Nairobi is situated in the midst of National Park. 

I had decided to sleep until late hours next morning (as I was tired), but woke up with bird calls. It was raining outside and saw two African Pied Wagtails playing a sort of 'hide and seek'. And I felt bad about the decision of leaving my binocular back home. 

Another view from hotel window. Whether people have 'consturcted' something in desert or they have 'destructed' something to make it desert like - that is what I need to know. May be, when time permits.

I was amazed to "see" a  Gujarati TV channel,

No, I don't think it has anything to do with Mr. Modi becoming the Prime Minister of India. For centuries, Indians have been coming and living in Kenya, and Gujarati speaking people are more in numbers  

This is Kenya Airways.

While checking in for next flight, the immigration officer took my photograph, asked me to give finger print. I was following her instructions and suddenly she said, "angutha". It took a minute for me that she was using Hindi word for thumb and she was kind to speak "my" language with me. 

Well, I need to visit this city again and spend more time to develop better understanding.  
**

211. Churning of the City

He is a writer. He is also a painter. His name is Bharat.

He had come out of his house after many days and to him the city seems to have changed. What is happening around?

Now it is against the laws to laugh within the city precincts.

There are boyish looking girls who tell him, “whoever is helped to rise, gets into the habit of falling down again and again and every time he falls, he looks for help and starts depending on help”. There is a boy made up to look like a girl because he thinks that is what will give him job. Actually there is not much difference in women and men now. The shops are glazing. The roads have now priority to vehicles and not human beings. You don’t have to know music for being known as musician; if you can hold elephant tusk and act like you are singing – you are a musician. Thousands of such changed rules around in which the city which he knew seems to have been destroyed. Once upon a time, there was churning of the ocean and it had thrown up poison. What will the churning of city bring out?

What is happening to Bharat’s city? What changes are taking place? How these changes are affecting the people within the city? Why can’t he speak or cry about it? Why is he compelled to keep quiet?

In the first couple of pages the novel absorbs you. It reminds me of “1984” and also a bit of “Animal Farm” – both by George Orwell. I keep on thinking about the similarity; but only for moments.

The novel is bit unconventional as it does not have long line of characters and there are no traditional descriptions.  There are events after events and the author questioning the happenings around. It represents a kind of “us” and “our environment”. It reminds us about that important feeling that we hide deep within after every experience of riot, bomb-blast and so on. It reminds us of every moment of vulnerability. There is something within us which we are not comfortable to live with – that is brought on the surface.

The city is like our city – disparity between poor and rich! Masks are here for sell and those masks are destroying the variety in human beings. Everybody seems unknown and similar. The masks not only cover faces, they control the thought processes of humans - and that is the main purpose of producers of masks. Once you cover yourself by a mask, the Reality and the Illusion merge together, you feel like owner, you feel responsible for maintaining status quo.

Bharat has some questions. His neighbor (a man without name), who is constantly keeping company, who makes Bharat realize the reality of the changed city  and who is taking care of Bharat, takes the responsibility of the survey.

These questions are: How near are you to yourself? How far away are you from yourself? How close are you to your family? How far away are you from your family? How near are you to the road- and how far away? How near are you to the tree, to the road, to the walls, to the bricks … and how far away are you from the tree, the road, the wall and the bricks?

The neighbor has different experiences during the survey. One woman tells him, “I am too far away from myself.  I am never able to join myself to myself. You can take it that I consist of two parts. One part is sick and tired of this world… the other is chockfull with desires and passion….. I am close to no one; no one is close to me. …. How can a person who is already split into two parts own anybody or belong to anybody?”

At other times I would have remembered Sartre or Camus while reading this (I remember them now while writing this), but while reading it I felt a sharp knife stabbed in my heart. The agonizing pain was momentary but Real. The beauty of the novel is: it creates such moments of pain of self-reflection; it makes you think about your life. The novel is not unrealistic – it creates an awareness that you are not aware of what is happening around you, you have look for and learn to accept the Reality. The novel churns you as well.

It does not matter that the novel has only 63 pages.

The novel was originally written in Dogri. The language is spoken in Jammu area (and nearby areas in Pakistan). You don’t feel like asking the logical questions like whether these areas are urbanized so much.

It does not surprise you that the novel is 1979 Sahitya Akademi award winner novel.

“Nagn Rukh” – Mr. O P Sharma “Sarathi”

English translation by Mr. Shivanath – “Churning of the City”

Publisher: Sahitya Akademi, Delhi

Price? The 1991 edition I have is priced Rs. 10/- only!

**

189. Delhi: A Perspective

I always believe that places reveal very little to us when we are not interested in them; but open up for those of us who are interested. In other words, it is not only that we choose a place, but the place also chooses us.

I have chosen Delhi as ‘my place’ for last couple of years and I always wonder whether Delhi has accepted me or not. Some signals are positive and some are neutral. After visiting many ‘spots’ and ‘sites’ and crossing the road at least 500 times; after experience the fog and the burning summer, I am still clueless about Delhi. Not only about its past; about its future; but also about its present.

How is Delhi?

It is beautiful and ugly. It is enthusiastic and depressive. It is aggressive and tolerant. It is filthy rich and extremely poor. It is cultured and vulgar. It is supersonic and slow. It is religious and mundane. It is lazy and consumerist. It is flowing and it is stagnated. It is in 21^st century and also in 16^th century. All these ‘Delhis’ coexist, hand in hand. Every time I experience it, it is different. Delhi by all means is a mystery.

Frankly speaking, Khushwant Singh is not my favorite writer. It was only after strong recommendation by one of my young friends that I touched the novel Delhi. However, I was stunned by the first paragraph itself. The narrator compares Delhi to his mistress. He says, “Delhi and Bhagmati (narrator’s mistress) have a lot in common. Having been long misused by rough people they have learnt to conceal their seductive charms under a mask of repulsive ugliness. It is only to their lovers, among whom I count myself, that they reveal their true selves.” 

So true, I felt – though I did not know about Bhagmati, I certainly knew that much about Delhi.

The principle narrator of the novel is a man. He is a Sikh. He visits foreign countries and works as a guide for foreign tourist. Through them he narrates material richness of Delhi and through Bhgamati, he shows us the poor, the vulnerable. Both enrich Delhi’s personality.

The narrator takes the readers to various places and its history. That is a fantastic journey. Places like Nigambodh Ghat, Tilpat, Suraj Kund, Okhla, Qutub Minar, Hauz Khas, Purana Quila, Red Fort… and so many others! Delhi comes alive through the narration.

What I enjoyed most is the history of Hajarat Nizamuddin – who so far was just a name of Railway Station for me. The life of this Sufi Saint is indeed inspiring. “Kings come and kings go. The will of Allah is eternal” – the words of Nizamuddin ring so true even today. So, is the story of Rakab Ganj Gurudwara. I am sure, when I visit both these places, I will have a better understanding of those and hence a far meaningful relationship with those two places. Other readers will find more such places to get the connection. The strength of the book lies in these kinds of narrations. There might be more fiction than the truth even in these narrations, but the truth that appears is blazing. One understands that Delhi has lived more life than we can imagine, Delhi has experienced more pain than one can endure and Delhi has seen so many power shifts that she hardly is affected by any power.

There are some interesting mythological stories (though not in details) spread across the pages. For example the names of the five villages that Pandavas are believed to have asked for to avoid war; how Balarama made river Yamuna zigzag. That was something which I did not know. Now I have more questions and I will seek more light on these mythological aspects as well.

His remarks on contemporary Delhi are also fascinating. For example the custom inspector, the cab driver, the crowd gathered to watch foreigner lady, the diplomatic office circle in Delhi, Republic Day Parade atmosphere.. .. Hilarious; and painful at the same time.

Being a Khushwant Singh novel, there are many women and sexual descriptions run parallel to journey of Delhi. This is one more example where an author is not able to break his image.  But his story of Delhi is so interesting that it did not stop me from reading the novel. 

And the human face of Khushwant Singh, the author makes a strong appearance through the pages. In Chapter 18, the narrator talks about ‘Builders’ – a narration spread over 30 pages. The narrator of this chapter is a contractor of Lutyens' Delhi. The contractor is none else but father of Khushwant Singh – Sobha Singh!! The author who cannot write without sex even when he is describing the life of Hajarat Nizamuddin or while a young man is watching Gandhijee’s prayer his mind thinks about Dr. Sushila in no less vulgar terms. But it only when the author is narrating the story of his real father, he abstains from any mention to sexuality. This only shows that one thinks  about ‘our own people’ in a different way !!

If you know when and how to ignore Khushwant Singh, this book makes one of the best reads. If you allow the author to irritate you, you will certainly not enjoy the book. However, with his knowledge of the city and the history of the city and the command on the language, I would  recommend that Delhi is worth reading! It is an interesting perspective about Delhi. 

Delhi- a novel: Khushwant Singh

Penguin Books, India

1990

Price: Rs. 250/- (paperback)

188. Fear

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 35; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "...and the world was silent again"

16 December 2012.

New Delhi. India

News spreads

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans, Candles, Fasts

Debates, Discussions, Editorials, Media coverage

Tweets, Facebook updates, Blogs

Poems, Articles

Commitments, Oaths, Schemes, Improvements

Calls for life punishment.

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

Will history repeat itself?

That is the question.

Mathura. Suryanelli. Soumya

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans,

Debates, Discussions, Editorials,

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

And the world was silent again.

Tulasa Thapa, Thangiam Manorama

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans,

Debates, Discussions, Editorials,

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

And the world was silent again.

Jalagaon, Khairlanjee, Ajmer

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans,

Debates, Discussions, Editorials, Media coverage

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

And the world was silent again.

Anjana Mishra, Bhanvari Devi,

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans,

Debates, Discussions, Editorials, Media coverage

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

And the world was silent again.

Soni Sori, Nayana Pujari, Jyoti Kumari Chaudhari
and so many others,

Helplessness, Agony, Outcry, Anger,

Protests, Street March, Slogans,

Debates, Discussions, Editorials, Media coverage

Calls for changes in the system.

Calls for changes in law.

And the world was silent again.

Aruna Shanbhag?

Who was she?

Oh..right. Unfortunate indeed.

And the world was silent again.

Jammu and Kashmir.

Hmm! It is easy to talk about it,

But you know,

Our soldiers are doing a good job there.

Don’t discuss.

Aren’t you patriotic?

Someone has to pay the price. Keep quiet.

And the world was silent again.

North East?

What happened there?

Oh! It must be some foreign hand.

Who knows what the fact is!

The media has no other story

Let it be, who cares?

And the world was silent again.

Thousands, nay millions of

'Nameless' and 'Faceless'

Go through the agony.

Four year young and seventy year old,

Poor and Middle class and Wealthy,
Dalit and tribal and the upper caste,
Educated and uneducated,
Working in the public sector, private sector, unorganized sector, domestic workers.

Everyday. Every moment.

Some have courage to say it loudly.

Many die a silent death.

Pending cases.

Conviction rate?

Social taboo.

Police attitude,

No help from passers by ....

Well, it is still a concern. 

And the newspaper writes about one more rape.

From somewhere, around the corner.

“Women! “

“You know, it is not actually rape.”

“When they are caught red-handed, they want to save their skin by framing the man.”

“Why do they wear such provocative clothes?”

“Why do they move out in the evening?”

“Don’t they understand the world around is not good.”

“Women – they want independence!! These are the fruits of their independence.”

“This is all impact of westernization.”

“This is not our culture. We need to go back to our culture.”

“It does not happen to us because we are good.”

“Rape happens to only those who are ‘characterless’”

“Leave it. It is not our problem.”

And the world becomes silent

Again and again.

16 December 2012.

New Delhi. India

Agony, Outcry, Anger

Continue to grow.

29 December, Singapore.

The last breath.

I wish; we all wish that

At least now

The world would not remain silent!

However, I fear that the world will be silent again! 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: Vipul Grover, Participation Count: 30

186. Exhibition

A call from an unknown number. I cannot have the luxury of not answering calls from unlisted numbers. In a way, this phone is for public purpose, I keep on receiving calls from 'unlisted numbers'.

"Good Morning," there is a woman, from Delhi. She tells me her name and adds, "Mr. X has asked me to contact you." I know Mr X for many years. He is associated with one organization who does a bit of social work. I don't really appreciate what his organization does but I appreciate the commitment and dedication  of Mr. X.. So if someone approaches me through the thread of Mr. X, I generally offer whatever help I can.

"Good Morning. What do you need me to do?" I ask directly.
"Mr. X has told me that you have a lot of information," the woman says vaguely.
Now I have crossed that phase when one feels happy at the praise showered by strangers. That woman may not know it.
"What information do you want?" I ask again.
"Women," is the answer.

Now 'information on or about women' is a broad theme. Until this women tells me what exactly she wants, I won't be able to help her.
"Which women? On what theme?" I try to steer the conversation.
"Oh! Obviously Indian women! Any theme that you want," the woman speaks calmly.

I am bit irritated with the vagueness of the dialogue. However, because of the reference of Mr. X, I am not in a position to end it immediately.

After spending another few minutes what I realize is this: the organization with which this woman is associated (the same organization where Mr. X is also involved) is planning an exhibition on Ancient Indian History. They need some help from me in this regard.

"Have you listed some names?" I ask.
"Well, we have your name ..." the woman seems to have a good sense of humor.
"I am talking about historical names. If I know what kind of preparation you have, I will be able to help you better." I say politely.
"Sorry, I did not have enough time. Whatever you want, can be done. No problem." the woman says, again with the same calmness.

I smile. There won't be any problem, because they have not given any thought to exhibition. Anyway, I can always provide them few names.

The exhibition is in Delhi, so the write-up needs to be in Hindi.
I ask, "If I give you information in English, do you have someone who can translate it in Hindi?" I expect affirmative answer.
"No, we don't have any person who can translate. Why don't you give us information in Hindi? You are based in Delhi, so you also should be able to write Hindi..." that is undesirable. .

I decide to leave the matter for some time. I can always discuss these details with Mr. X.
"You are going to have posters ..." I am thinking aloud.
"Probably..." the woman says.
"Who is going to do the sketches? Or you will be using photographs? What would be the size of the posters? There cannot be too much of matter on posters, so we have to choose the information thoughtfully ...." my train of thought is going fast.
"Don't you have drawings, sketches or photographs?" the woman asks me in a tone of disbelief.

"No," I reply. Even though this woman has given me reference of Mr. X, now I am reaching the limits of patience.
"Then what will we do?" she asks.
Who is planning the exhibition? I wonder.

"You decide and tell me," I say little curtly.
"There is no time for decisions and discussions," the woman is also irritated now.
Curiosity overtakes my irritation and anger. Here is a woman whose organization wants to plan an exhibition; she does not know anything about the topic; she calls me for help and trying to order me; she does not know me and still she is getting irritated with me for no reason. I note to tell Mr. X that he should not provide my mobile number to any Rama, Seeta and Laxman.

"Yes, time is always short for such tasks," I try to understand her position.
With enthusiasm (which is my habit!) I add, "Kindly discuss with your team about all these points. Then we can sit together and work out. Don't worry, everything would be fine," I try to assure her.

"Can you come to my place today evening?" she asks.
"Sorry, I am out of Delhi for a week. Maybe....". I say.
The woman does not allow me to complete the sentence. "You are of no use then.." she announces.
"What do you mean?" I control myself but still can't help asking the question.

"The exhibition is planned on this Saturday-Sunday." the woman tells me.
"Sorry, I can't help you and best wishes to you..." I say and cut off the phone.

Exhibition!!
Exhibition, of what?

Exhibition that I work for a voluntary organization? Exhibition of my interests in History and Culture? Exhibition of our attitude to take everything casually? Exhibition of 'right to expect from others'?

Exhibition of many such aspects of how human beings think, and how they work!!
**

182. Khan Market

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

I have a very strange feeling about this city. I know, this statement applies to all the cities - urban life has become a very strange kind of living. That is the reason I generally don't say "this is a strange city" - but I can't help it saying about Delhi. I have lived in many cities and always lived as if I was born there and I was going to die there. But with Delhi, it is different. When I came here, I knew I had to leave this city some day. Is that truth makes me feel the strangeness of Delhi? I don't know.

A lot has been told and written about Delhi. From ages, people have been expressing their love or there awe about Delhi. However I feel that Delhi still offers an Untold Story, it has the capacity to open its secrets if one is interested.  I know, you won't believe me. Alright, take the example of Khan Market.

So far, I had visited Khan Market only once - with a colleague from Canada. During those hours I had realized that this place was not for me.When I received a message from Surekha Narain about a visit to Khan Market area, I was surprised. The weather in Delhi was not conducive for moving around leisurely even after a comparatively good rain in August. I had been to couple of places with Surekha and had found it to be good. I mean the group is never too large so we can spend time in discussions and information generation. Surekha always comes with lot of information to share and the atmosphere is friendly and informal. She provides good insights into the places we visit. So I was eager to visit Khan Market. 

I wanted to know more before confirming and so asked my colleagues, "What is there in and around Khan Market?" Most of them are born and brought up in Delhi - still they looked at me in a weird way, said "Market" and changed the topic. I went to Wikipedia. There I gathered few points like - this Market was established in 1951, it is named after legendary Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan and it has 21st rank in the list of costly markets in the world!! Reading this, I was caught in two minds - to visit Khan Market or Not. However, I was sure, Surekha would present  Untold Story of the area to me. 

Hotel Ambassador, Khan Market, New Delhi 

Finally, I decide to go to Khan Market. When we met at 8.00 in the morning outside Khan Market Metro Station, I was happy to notice that the group was not too large. Being Saturday morning, the road was not crowded.At the first glance, a big white building opposite the road attracted my attention. This is supposed to be a rich people's area - so I thought it must be famous residential complex. But I was told that it was the back side of Ambassador Hotel. Later we could actually visit the hotel - will tell you about it after a couple of paragraphs!

Bagwali Masjid, Khan Market, New Delhi

Outside the Metro Station (Exit Gate 2) we turned towards left. After a peaceful walk for five minutes, we reached 'Bagawali Masjid'. The mosque is named so because during its prime time  it was surrounded  by garden. There were three four people (all men) praying. We were not sure whether women were allowed in that mosque -so we entered with precaution- ready to turn around any minute. All women in the group covered their head with scarf or dupatta. There were few people sitting in the mosque, but they did not object to our entry so we were relaxed and started enjoying the architecture of the place. From the main road, the mosque is not at all visible - though instead of garden, there is a nursery now. What changed the fortune of this place? It remains an Untold Story for me!

Next we visited Sujan Singh Park. This was the first apartment in Delhi built long back in 1945. Who is this Sujan Singh? He is father of building contractor Sobha Singh. Who is Sobha Singh? He is father of Khushwant Singh. (Please, don't ask who is Khushwant Singh!!). Sobha Singh was prominent builder of Lutyen's  Delhi. It is said that not long back half of the Delhi belonged to Sobha Singh.I was pained to note that the city of Delhi elected  him not once but four times as President of New Delhi Municipal Council. How can people forget and forgive that he was one of those who identified Bhagat Singh and Batukeshwar Datta for throwing bombs in Delhi Assembly in 1929. Why do we have a very weak sense of patriotism? Well, that too remains an Untold Story! 

Sujan Singh Park, Khan Market, New Delhi

The apartment is extremely beautiful. The serenity catches one's heart. For a moment, we all were speechless. In the midst of high rise building it was nice to have this not so high building. Each household has open balcony - which could be seen better in the earlier photograph of Hotel Ambassador. The security guards came to ask us the purpose of the visit. When we said that we just wanted to watch the building - two of them nodded but nevertheless followed us till the end. Many people must be coming to 'see' this building  The complex is 'U' shaped - residential buildings on the three sides with a beautiful garden in the midst, For a moment I thought we were in historical time - but the impression immediately vanished due to modern cars parked there. One of us loudly thought, "what could be the price of one flat in this apartment?" and I decided not to pay attention to such discussion. How many families must have stayed here and how many must have moved out of here! Their story is untold indeed!

Old Telephone in Hotel Ambassador, New Delhi 

We crossed the road. We were not sure whether we would be allowed to enter the Ambassador Hotel. Surprisingly the security guards welcomed us with 'Good Morning'. Maybe it is part of their duty or maybe the foreign nationals in our group made our entry easy. Surekha interacted with the hotel staff and suddenly we were invited inside the hotel. The staff took us to couple of rooms. One of the staff - a man - who has been working there for last 35 years talked about old type of fans, old type of lifts etc. We saw 'ancient looking' telephone in the lobby - which was not working. I felt like I was on the set of some 'old' movie. The hotel walls are white and again in the midst of the triangular shaped building there is  a large space. We were told that there was a restaurant in that place. The rooms were good but not worth of charges. I don't who comes and stays in these costly rooms and why. Maybe there are many more Untold Stories!!

Our next point was a Synagogue. Here we met the Rabbi and the Secretary Mr. Malekar. According to him there are about 5000 Jew population in India and about 50 people in Delhi who are the followers are of Judaism. However, many people from the various embassies come here to pray.It was nice to here a religious teacher saying: "I am Indian first and Jew later" or "Israel is in my heart, but India is in my blood." We Indians in that group felt good about it.

Mr. Malekar briefly explained fundamental teachings of Judaism, the prayer ceremony in the Synagogue. For example the cloth the Rabbi wears during the discourse and the Shofar has historical significance. Nobody is allowed to enter the wooden platform from where the Rabbi gives talk etc. However things are changing now. For example the status of women according to the religion is changing. The tradition says that Torah should not be read unless 10 men are there to listen. But now at least the Delhi Synagogue reads it if there are 10 persons - which includes women. Saturady is a Sabbath day and work is forbidden on that day. However here was Mr. Malkear, working on Saturday and sharing the knowledge with non-followers of Jew faith. What factors contributed to these changes - is another Untold Story!

Parasi Cemetery, Khan Market, New Delhi 

The area has many cemeteries - Jew, Christian and Parasi. We visited the Jew and the Parasi cemeteries Some of the tombs were smaller in size. The realization that those tombs are of young children made everyone little sad. The Parasi Cemetery looked better maintained - though the number of Parasi people in Delhi also is not very high.  Interestingly we found that Parasi people have a longer life - whether this is truth or not needs to be checked with other authentic data. We had a brief  discussion on how different religions dispose the dead. What kind of life these people had lived - we do not know. We also do not know what they saw and what they felt. Only their memory remains - if someone is there to remember them. Otherwise there are so many lives who carry with them the story of their life - Untold!

If you ask anyone in Delhi about Khan Market; ten out of ten people would say that it a place for shopping. Here we were, a group of people, spending two and half hours in the area - without visiting a shop, without visiting a restaurant and still feeling full.

To some extent, I understood the Untold Story of Khan Market area that morning. But many aspects of the story need to be explored. Let me see when I get the opportunity to visit the area again! Let me see what this strange city of Delhi reveals to me. 

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