245. Thiruvanantpuram (Trivandrum)

(ही पोस्ट मराठीत इथं वाचता येईल.)

While planning my trip to Kanyakumari, I had already decided to stay in Thiruvananthapuram for two days. I had an assumption (I don’t really know why) that there would be plenty of buses from Kanyakumari to Trivandrum and that they would be frequent. In reality, there are almost no such direct buses. I was told that I would get a bus to Trivandrum from Vadassery bus stand in Nagercoil. So I went to Nagercoil. While boarding the bus to Nagercoil, I had actually asked the conductor, “This bus goes to Vadassery, right? I need to go further to Trivandrum…” and boarded it accordingly.

After getting down at Nagercoil, when I started asking other passengers, “Which bus goes to Trivandrum?”, I realised that I had arrived at Anna Bus Stand. Everyone kept telling me (in broken English), “You will get the Trivandrum bus from Vadassery,” but how was I supposed to get to Vadassery? Once again, I felt how difficult it is to even have a simple conversation with people from our own country when we don’t know the language. 

Even though I didn’t know the language, people were extremely eager to help. I could see a mini-conference of five or six passengers forming around my serious question. One middle-aged woman held my hand and took me to a bus. She said something to the conductor. The conductor gestured for me to get into the bus and told me three times, “No Trivandrum, Vadassery.” At least this much I understood—that this bus would drop me at the Vadassery bus stand in Nagercoil.

From Anna Bus Stand to Vadassery, I did not have to buy a ticket. I was told that travel up to thirty kilometres is free for women. However, for the twenty-two kilometre journey from Kanyakumari to Nagercoil, I had bought a ticket. (Both Kanyakumari and Nagercoil are in Tamil Nadu.) So I couldn’t quite understand what the exact scheme was. Perhaps there is a difference between local buses and long-distance buses. Or maybe there is a difference between Tamil Nadu buses and Kerala buses. I have nothing to say about having to buy a ticket; I only mean to say that I didn’t clearly understand the scheme.

The woman sitting next to me on the bus spoke Tamil. She started talking enthusiastically. My Tamil begins with “Vanakkam” (hello) and ends with “Tamil theriyad” (I don’t know Tamil). But the funny thing is that we kept talking for nearly one and a half hours until her stop arrived. Once again, I realised that if people really want to communicate, language does not become a barrier. And perhaps that is why we don’t feel the urge to learn other Indian languages with much effort. Things somehow work out. People help. People talk with a smile. People open their lunchboxes and insist that you have tea or snacks with them.

This was not my first visit to Trivandrum. I have some old memories connected to this place as well. Once, I had come to Kanyakumari with a group of boys and girls from Maharashtra for a youth camp. Our train reached Chennai late, and because of that we missed the next train to Trivandrum. After talking to the station superintendent at Chennai, arrangements were made for us in another train. That train reached Trivandrum sometime in the middle of the night. Along with thirty boys and girls, I slept on the platform at Trivandrum station—it was a memorable experience.

Later, during a two-week training programme, I had stayed near Kovalam Beach and used to go to the beach morning and evening. While I was in Delhi, I had also visited villages around Trivandrum for a project; those days were pleasant too. As the capital of Kerala, this city has always felt to me not just like an administrative centre, but a beautiful blend of history, culture, architecture, and humanity. All my earlier visits were work-related; this visit was relaxed—that was the big difference this time.

“Tiru” is an honorific prefix, somewhat like “Shri” in Sanskrit. Tiruchirappalli, Tirupati, Tiruvalluvar—many place names have “Tiru” in them. “Ananth” is a name for God, but here it refers to Ananta, the serpent. “Puram” means residence or city. A city associated with Vishnu reclining on the serpent. Even the name of the city is so meaningful and distinctive.

This city has its own rhythm. The roads are compact and winding. Even while watching traffic, this rhythm is noticeable. Although the number of two-wheelers is large, almost everyone wears a helmet—men, women, young, old—both riders and pillion riders wear helmets.

This does not feel like mere compliance with the law; it feels like a collective consciousness about safety. Traffic appears relatively less aggressive, more disciplined, and calmer—as if that is the very nature of the city.

Home-stay

While deciding where to stay in Thiruvananthapuram, I came across a home-stay on Booking.com—Chaithritha Ladies Homestay. It was exclusively for women, and the reviews were good. Payment was to be made only after reaching there, so even if the trip got cancelled for some reason, money wouldn’t be wasted. I immediately decided to stay there.

About a month before I left for Kanyakumari, the people from this home-stay had already started communicating with me via WhatsApp. Where I was coming from, how I would reach, whether I needed pick-up from the station or bus stand, what I wanted to see in Trivandrum, whether any arrangements were needed, and so on. This communication continued until I reached their home in Trivandrum. In fact, even after I returned safely to Pune, I informed them that I had reached home—just the way one would inform close acquaintances.

I did not know who exactly was the person communicating with me and making all the arrangements. When I reached Trivandrum and met Bindu madam, I learnt that all my queries were handled by her son Lihin (yes, that is his name). He was in Delhi, I was in Pune, and the arrangements were in Trivandrum—all made possible easily because of technology. He helps his mother with everything while living in Delhi. (I will not, of course, write much personal information.)

Lihin asked me whether I would come from Kanyakumari to Trivandrum by bus or train. Until then, I hadn’t thought much about that journey. While going to Kanyakumari, I was planning to travel from Trivandrum to Kanyakumari by train. So for a change, I decided to return by bus. “There are buses of both Tamil Nadu and Kerala states, but please come by a Kerala state bus,” Lihin insisted. I found it amusing. It made me realise that we in Maharashtra are not so particular about our state buses.

To visit some places in Trivandrum, Lihin had arranged a car with a driver. The driver was Lihin’s cousin. Vishwanath was a little shy. His cousin Meghan (that’s his name) was with him, and he was quite talkative. “My family wanted a girl child, but I was born—so my name is close to a girl’s name (Meghan),” he said jokingly. Both of them were engineering students. They too were visiting many of these places for the first time along with me. So my expectation of having a guide who would provide detailed information was not fulfilled. But I did get to know a lot about Kerala families and their relationships.

As soon as I entered the house, I was given the Wi-Fi password. The connection was excellent. Home-cooked breakfast and meals. A small, neat, and clean house. A window that made it feel like trees were within reach. A winding road and a cat playing on the railing of the building at the corner.

I felt as if I were a part of a painting—the surroundings were so calm. I really enjoyed it.

At the home-stay, I got to eat puttu–kadala curry, appam, and local fish. Puttu–kadala curry is a very popular and traditional breakfast dish in Kerala. When I first saw it on the plate, I thought it was chole–rice.

But the taste of freshly grated coconut in the puttu was delightful. Puttu is a steamed dish made from rice flour and grated coconut. It is steamed vertically in a special puttu mould, which makes it very soft. The accompanying kadala curry is made from black chickpeas. It contains coconut, roasted spices, and tempering with curry leaves. It is a thick, flavourful curry. The dish is not only tasty but also healthy. I could eat puttu–kadala curry any number of times without getting bored—provided it is readily available, of course.

I enjoyed chatting with the two young men who accompanied me throughout the day. At their insistence, I even tasted toddy with lunch. It is mildly sour in taste. At the eatery, people of all ages from families were seen enjoying toddy together. Even though it was a Wednesday (not a holiday), the place was full.

I, of course, had only a couple of sips.

Shri Padmanabhaswamy Temple

The most famous temple in Thiruvananthapuram—Shri Padmanabhaswamy Temple. There are special rules regarding dress here. Vishwanath and Bindu had already informed me about them. Men must keep the upper part of the body bare (remove their shirt) and wear a mundu or dhoti. Women are ideally expected to wear a saree. Nowadays, however, wearing a mundu over salwar-kameez (called mundu-neriyathu) is also accepted. Sarees or mundus are available on rent within the temple premises. Before leaving the home-stay, Bindu had given me a brand-new mundu from her own belongings to use. I wrapped it around my salwar while entering the temple. During the security check, a woman police officer noticed that the mundu was not properly tied and could come loose anytime. After the checking was over, she tied it properly for me.

The temple is very large. It is believed to be the richest temple in the country. People were standing quietly in queues. There were people who came regularly for darshan before going to office, and there were some tourists like me. In one part of the temple, collective chanting of Vishnu Sahasranama was going on. At one time, I had memorised it (someone had challenged me saying, “You can’t do it,” and I accepted the challenge and memorised it in a few hours—that’s another story). So the subsequent verses were echoing in my mind. I haven’t recited Vishnu Sahasranama for many years, but the mind works in strange ways.

As the name suggests, this is a Vishnu temple. One can see Vishnu in the Ananta Shayana posture here. The temple was built in the eighth century and renovated in the eighteenth century by Travancore king Marthanda Varma. The Travancore kings had an inseparable connection with this temple. In 1750, King Marthanda Varma made the historic declaration of “Thrippadidanam,” through which the entire kingdom of Travancore was dedicated to Lord Padmanabhaswamy. After that, the kings referred to themselves as “Shri Padmanabhadas” (servants of the Lord). It is said that they believed the kingdom belonged to God and the king was merely a servant.

The temple architecture is a blend of Kerala and Dravidian styles. I read that there are 12,008 shaligrams in the sanctum—but I did not see any. As in many temples, priests were pushing people, and there was a separate queue for those who paid more money. Once again, the usual question arose in my mind—how can so-called devotees create money-based inequality before God?

One special feature of this temple is that darshan happens through three doors. Through the first door, one can see Lord Vishnu’s face and chest; through the second, the midsection; and through the third, the feet. The reclining idol is eighteen feet long. The temple is calm and beautiful. My mind felt peaceful. I just wished I had received better information about the temple. Sometimes, when we don’t know what to look for, we fail to really see—and that happened here too.

Kuthiramalika Palace

Visiting Kuthiramalika Palace gave me a vivid glimpse of Kerala’s royal history. This palace belonged to the Travancore kings and is adjacent to the Padmanabhaswamy Temple. The entire palace is built of wood, and the carved horse motifs on the ceiling especially draw attention. The palace was built by Maharaja Swathi Thirunal—who was not just a king, but also a renowned musician and patron of the arts. Every hall in this palace bears testimony to the dynasty’s aesthetic sensibility, cultural awareness, and love for art.

The palace now houses a museum with various royal artefacts. We were guided by a woman guide who provided good information. Since photography is not allowed, people moved ahead quickly. One interesting thing I noticed was that people in the royal lineage did not have similar facial features. Then I realised that succession did not pass from father to eldest son, but to the sister’s sons. In other words, kingship was matrilineal. Therefore, royal names also appeared different. Of course, this is just my observation; I do not have complete information.

Napier Museum

This museum was established in 1855, and later, in 1880, the present grand building was constructed. The building was named after Lord Napier, the then Governor of the Madras Presidency. The museum preserves many rare artefacts related to Kerala’s history. These include ancient bronze and brass idols, ivory carvings, traditional Kerala musical instruments, weapons, and artefacts related to the Travancore royal family. We walked around leisurely here, and I took many photographs.

Laurie Baker’s Institutional Campus

“If you are going to Trivandrum, do visit Laurie Baker’s campus,” a friend who is an architect had insisted. The boys who were with me didn’t even know the name Laurie Baker. So we kept wandering while trying to locate the place. At one point, we reached an organisation run by a women’s self-help group. Seeing visitors arrive, the women workers left their meals aside and got up. Since we had already come there, we decided to see their work as well and gathered detailed information. They then told us how to reach Laurie Baker’s institutional campus.

There, we met a senior official named Anil Kumar. We learnt that redevelopment work is underway in the area where Laurie Baker had lived. There is also a training centre here.

Laurie Baker was a British–Indian architect. He was born in England and completed his education there. After the Second World War, he came to India. Using local materials (and thus reducing cost) and building environment-friendly structures was his hallmark. He built more than two thousand buildings—homes, schools, hospitals, churches, and more. By consciously rejecting extravagance, showiness, and excessive cost, he placed people, nature, and need at the centre of architecture. In 1990, the Government of India honoured him with the Padma Shri award.

I really liked the multi-storeyed brick library that we saw here.

There is no extravagance—but the natural light, airy structure, and use of bricks make the space feel very alive. We climbed three floors. On each floor, we stomped our feet hard on the wooden planks (as suggested by Anil Kumar) and realised how strong the building is. There is also one living room on each floor, where trainees stay. It felt good to have seen something new.

While leaving, Vishwanath and Meghan said, “Oh God, our aunt (or uncle) has installed glass panes everywhere in the new home-stay they’ve built—this kind of brick construction would have been so much better.” Hearing this made me happy. Actually making changes may not be in their hands right now, but it is important that they at least realise that there are good alternatives.

There had been a lot of walking throughout the day. We were all tired. Even so, it was already past four by the time we returned home.

Returning Home

Both Kanyakumari and Trivandrum gave me a wonderful time. I got a lot of calmness over the week. I spent time by the sea. I saw new things. I met new and old people. Some old chapters came to a close—which was necessary. Not just people, but places also shape us. I will always remain grateful to Kerala and Tamil Nadu for that.

The next morning, I went to Trivandrum station and boarded the train to Pune. While bidding farewell to Trivandrum, I told myself—and Tamil Nadu and Kerala too—“I will come again” 😊 Whether I actually return or not, I am certain that the memories of these days will remain with me.

212. People and their Hero

We, the People need heroes. The word hero includes heroines – role model, idol.  

Whatever we might do when real life situation demands, ideally we like to worship a hero. That gives us weird satisfaction of being secure, of being worthy followers.

The more heroes:  the better.

In case there are more heroes, we easily establish hierarchy amongst the existing heroes – to each one his/her own is our principle. We fight on points like ‘whose hero is better’?

Mind you: “mine is always the best”

We can present arguments in favor of our hero and go to any length to criticize the non-hero.

We the People can make heroes and We the People are capable of dumping heroes. We the People are powerful than Government, Bureaucracy, Judiciary and Media imagines; or would like to imagine.

If there are no real life heroes, we take on cricketers, film stars, political leader, whosoever is available; even we choose our boss - we manage our hero worship hunger by compromising with our values.

We like heroes who are simple. We like heroes who are poor. We like heroes who are naïve. We like heroes who do not have power. We like heroes who give us a chance to shout slogans, to be on the roads with candles, to clap, to laugh, to cry, to do some kind of activity which we had hardly done in personal life. We like heroes who awaken sense of being part of ‘history making epoch’ in our life – because otherwise there is nothing exciting in our life.

We don’t like our hero to be criticized. We forget that others too have right to express, howsoever different that opinion might be. But we tend to call them traitors, we doubt their intentions, we say that they are trying to break our unity.

It is always interesting to throw stones on others. After all we have chosen them as our representatives, so we have every right to thrown stones and de-throne them. Don’t ask us why we were not aware of their weaknesses; we are emotional people and we believe a charismatic leader with the hope that s/he would make everything easy for us.

We like to be part of a process which changes others, which threatens others. There is no other joy than watching a powerful person wilt against higher power.

Now don’t ask questions like - what about my responsibility? What about changes in my life? What if tomorrow my hero invites everyone to take an oath?

For example, if my hero asks me to:

1.   Never bribe a traffic cop when my two /four wheeler is picked up from a non-parking area.

2.   Pay full taxes without hiding any income.

3.   Not to pay anyone extra amount to get train ticket, movie ticket, passport, job, and berth in train journey etc.

4.   Neither ask for nor give dowry.

5.  Not pay donation for my child’s education, if that means my child would study in poor municipal corporation school, so it be then.

6.   Not join any tuition or coaching classes - because this is another way of spoiling education system.

7.   Not approach any politician to help me from punishment for breaking laws.

8.  Not accept money for voting a particular candidate or not voting in any elections – even my residential society elections.

9.   Not use office telephone for my personal calls/ I will not use office computer for personal work like searching new job or playing games.

10.  …………………

11.  ……………………….

I am sure, the moment our hero starts putting such demands; we will turn and find another hero.

There is no dearth of heroes around.

"We the People" are Powerful!

197. Mediation

It is good to know that people are concerned about other people
However, an uninvited concern is irritating.
For last few days, suddenly from nowhere else, I started getting messages from an organization which cares for people's spiritual enlightenment. At least that is what they claim.

I ignored first few mails in the hope that if I did not respond, they would be discouraged enough.
But the messages kept on coming. About Rajyoga Mediation and all that.
It always had the boasting last liine: We are at 140 countries with more than 9000 Meditation centre's since 1937 

I wrote to them requesting "not to send such mails."
No effect.
Then after few days I wrote, "Kindly stop sending these mails to me. Note that you are invading my privacy."

This was a clear message to any person in right mind.
But no, not to this organization! They wrote back:


Om Shanti Divine Soul, 

Our aim is not to disturb your privacy of life, we just want to inform you about Godly meditation which is need for very human being to maintain balance of life. crores of family's are enjoying this, this meditation is like to recharge your soul. GOD BLESS YOU.

I wonder what makes these people think that I need a mediation. 

And what makes them to think that they are eligible to mediate between me and God!

 By the way, what is your guess? Which organization is this? :-)

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

185. Uncertainty

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 34; the thirty-fourth 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 "Of-Course, I'm insane"

“Why you did not show me the answer even when the teacher was busy in conversation with the other teacher? I needed your help and I thought you are my friend,” the boy is fuming.

“How could I show you the answer? It is not good to copy during exams,” the calm looking boy answers.

“You are insane, man!” the aggrieved friend says.

The boy smiles. He adds confidently, “No, I am not insane.”

*****

“Why did you not appeal?” the Captain is upset.

“Oh! But he was not out, the ball was leaving the off stump, I know,” the bowler is all smiles.  

“We all were appealing, but since you did not appeal….”the Captain does not know what to say. He adds sarcastically, “You are insane, man!!”

“No, I am not insane…” the bowler is in tears.

*****

“Let us have a cigarette” one of the boys says.

“Just smoking? I thought we are going to celebrate in an adult manner,” other adds.

“Ok, you continue with your celebrations, I am leaving,” third boy says.

“How can you leave? We are celebrating your success,” the first boy is really surprised.

“But I can’t celebrate by smoking and drinking…” third boy.

“Come on yaar! We are not school children. You are selected by one of the best IT companies in the world and so we are celebrating,” another one says.

“Look, even the girls want to smoke and drink  ...” another one. The girls immediately join the chorus.

“No, long back I promised my grandma that I would never smoke and drink,” the boy is indeed adamant.

“You are insane, man!” exclaim his friends.

“Maybe, I am insane …” the boy is feeling little guilty for spoiling the fun of his friends.

*****

“Oh! Where is our bike?” the girl is anxious.

“It was parked in ‘No parking zone’. So the police have taken it away,” the shopkeeper informs. “Look,” he adds, “there is the traffic police van, go and get your bike before it is taken away.”

“Come on,” the girls says.

“Give him hundred rupees,” the girl asks.

“Will you give me a receipt?” the boy asks the police.

The police gets angry. “Come to police station, pay three hundred rupees, get you receipt and pick your bike,” he answers.

“Don’t be a miser. You earn loads of money,” the girl shouts.

“The question is not about money but…” the boy tries to explain.

“Come on yaar, leave it, I will pay,” the girl hurries through her purse.

“No, I won’t take the bike by paying bribe,” the boy is adamant.

“You are insane, Man!!” the girl’s anger is beyond bounds.

He keeps quiet.

*****

“What are your expectations?” uncle asks.

“What expectations?” he is really puzzled.

“Oh! Nothing really. Whatever you want to give to your daughter, you should give. We don’t demand anything, you know what your daughter needs and what is best for her….” One of the uncles says.

Everybody smiles, nods.

“Are you talking about dowry? Then my answer is NO…” the boy’s voice is stern.

“Come on, who is talking about dowry? You don’t understand anything. For God’s sake, keep quiet,” one of the aunties orders him loudly.

“Calm down young man! No, we are certainly not talking about dowry. …” the man sitting next to uncle explains.

“If you are talking about any 'give and take' in the marriage, I will not marry…” declares the boy.

“You are insane, Man!” his cousin remarks.

“No, I am not insane. You all are…” the boy says and storms out of the room.

*****

“You are insane, Man” his colleague says.

*****

“You are insane...” the officer says.

*****

“You are insane, “the shopkeeper says.

*****

“You are insane,” the corporator says.

*****

“You are insane,” the headmaster of his son’s school says.

*****

“I want a mobile, dad,” his son demands.

He looks at his ten year old son.

“You are still young,” he says.

“But everyone in my class carries a mobile. It is only you who is not allowing me to have a handset. If you don’t give me a mobile, I will not go to school,” his son threatens.

“It won’t work my boy. You don’t need mobile, that is it,” he firmly says.

“Don’t be a miser. And don’t tell me about your values. We have to live according to the norms set by the world around,” his wife is trying to argue.

He ignores the demands, the pleading, and the accusation of neglect.

“You are completely insane Dad,” his son shouts through his tears and runs away.

“Of course, I am insane...” he shouts back.

He weeps silently.

He has not been able to create a space for himself in this world.

Is he insane? Or the world around is insane?

He is not sure.

The uncertainty has always baffled him. And it continues to do so.

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: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 29

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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