The Great Indian Voyage

I take up writing once again today. It’s a refreshingly liberating experience. I feel as if I (as in the “I” inside of me) am breathing again. I realize that just as theater is my passion, writing is equally so. Its been a year to the exact date now that I wrote my last blog. A year…. When I say it like that it sounds both short and contradictorily so, so long. Short because in the larger scheme of things, lives and generations, it’s just a year. And long because of the indescribably enormous amount of events, changes and emotions that have happened in that same one year.

I shall write about all these in some other blogs. This one though, I dedicate to my last two weeks. I dedicate it to my travels over the back of this country – living out of a bag and journeying across a vast section of this country, by road, rail and air.

To cut a long introduction to this story short, I had a 2 week break from my school, ISB, and decided to travel back home to Mumbai. I and my good friend Sumit left Hyderabad in the soft darkness of the pre-dawn on Feb 6th to take a flight back home – he to his home in Hisar, Haryana and I to Mumbai. To give you a rough idea of how this travel pans out, I’m sticking here a picture of India with the places in this journey:



From Hyderabad to Mumbai – Mumbai to Bangalore – Bangalore to New Delhi – New Delhi to Hisar and Hisar to Hyderabad, my travels took me from the wide plains of the Deccan to the firecracker pace of Mumbai (the original Megapolis of India) to the rustic and idyllic fields of Haryana (a state in picturesque North of India). Along the way was a taste of Ma’s handmade delicacies in Mumbai, the aura of Bangalore’s five star hotels, the ardor of Valentine’s Day, the rich wafting smells, spices and sweetness of Delhi’s century old restaurants in Chandni Chowk and the vigor and robust lifestyle of Haryana! It was indeed a like living a film story in 2 weeks!

Mumbai

Mumbai’s my home. Anyone coming to Mumbai – however protected he or she tries to be – will quickly catch one infection for sure – the High Speed Lifestyle Infection.  Despite everything, I still picture this place as home. This time around the added spice was that my entire family was charged up with wedding frenzy. The day I landed, they took me out shopping. In the last one year at ISB, I haven’t found time to scratch, so, shopping was a distant dream. So now, my parents had me in Mumbai: work-free and all ready to be decked up in rich clothes and sent to and fro to the trial rooms of a million shops in Mumbai.

If you haven’t yet partaken in a shopping of the Big Fat Indian Wedding let me tell you, you’ve missed the biggest man-made wonder of this world. Please do indulge yourself in one such wedding because I believe they do ask you at the pearly gates if you’ve lived a full life and you can’t live a full life without being the subject of a crazy shopping expedition. I shopped as if I don’t own anything! From shoes and socks to glasses and cap – everything I currently own was quickly dismissed as being “non-marriage” stuff :). I soon realized that to qualify as “wedding material” your apparel has to satisfy certain stringent criteria: A. It should cost at least Rs. 5000 and B. It should be something to which your mom can say “O ji ye toh maine kahin nahi dekha!” :) (“Woah! I haven’t seen this on anyone yet”!)

So with boatloads of shopping and some very amazing Maharashtrian culinary experience my stay in Mumbai drew to a close. It always makes me sadder than I can profess to see that look on my mum’s face – to know that I won’t meet her till April again. Ah! Travesty of life…

The Great Indian Voyage Contd. (1)

Bangalore … oops! “Bengaluru”

From Mumbai, I set my rudder for Bangalore. For, there lives my life, my sweetheart – Shamu. It was 4 days of utter bliss in the lush environs of the IIMB campus.
Somehow, people tell me that certain sounds or smells take them back to a particular place or time. Like for example, for me, the song “When Johnny goes marching home again” takes me back to the December of 2004 in Raleigh, North Carolina. The instant – and I literally mean – the instant I hear that song, my mind snaps back to my roomies and me listening to this song walking up to the Raleigh railway station catching a train to DC.

For me, the reverse too holds true though. That is, over the last 4 years, certain places or locations have been linked in my brain to the sweet moments I’ve spent with Shamu. May be because there are just so few times we get to spend together that my brain sort of grabs on to those moments. Like for example, the “E Square Mall” in Pune takes me back to my first date with Shamu – the silly photo we took at the computer booth and my first movie with her. Similarly, the IIMB campus is intricately linked for me to the awesome time spent with Shamu. Our walks in the campus, cheering her in her throwball match, those awesome dinners together, fighting over the last piece of Domino’s Cheeseburst pizza… :) it just brings a smile to me… unconsciously, unknowlingly.

Now, this place has an infectious vibrancy that only youth can produce. I admit I haven’t been able to make close friends with her gang of friends out there, but I was enthralled nevertheless by how energetic these bunch of people are.

This time around though, my time here was spent talking endlessly about the wedding, our jobs, the honeymoon, and since we both are B-school grads, about the current sucky situation of the economy as well. It was so refreshing to speak my heart out… be myself, not worry about how anyone is judging me, how I have to impress someone with my talk. Even when we had some fights (it is inevitable guys, it’s the Zeroth Law of Relationship – I shall expound on the Laws of Relationships in my upcoming blogs) this time around, it was so mature, so calm, so real and with great understanding.

And well, then it was our first Valentine’s day together… :)

It always surprises our friends when I tell them that Shamu and I have been in a relationship for 4 years now and yet, we’ve never had a Valentine’s day together. I was always in the US on Feb 14th and she was in India. This is long distance relationship for you. On some level, I think staying apart from your girlfriend and still loving her truly brings out your love. I know Barney Stinson (from the How I Met Your Mother) would scoff at it, nay, he would for sure say: “True Love! Isn’t it that extinct thing from 1850’s?” :)) But yes, when you are meeting your girlfriend every day, you are infatuated about looks, romantic gestures, silly couply things. Not to say that these are unimportant, but long distance relationship makes you spell out to your own self why you love a girl.

So, coming back to our Valentine’s day. I’d picked a theme of flowers, all day through, when she least expected, I brought her bouquets of flowers….. it was too sweet to watch her smile that day. Dinner at Le Meridien just made it a perfect evening. But the sweetest moment of the day for me was when Shamu gifted me a photo book she made herself of all our pictures and stories. The best gift I ever got!

Now, I don’t deal in clichés often, but, all good things do come to an end. With a heavy heart and longing eyes, I packed my bags. “Next Stop New Delhi!”

The Great Indian Voyage Contd. (2)

New Delhi….. I prefer just “Delhi” though… I’ve yet to see a city older than Delhi

This particular leg of my journey was a very impromptu decision. My good friend Sumit was going to get engaged, and I said to him “Hey, it’ll be so cool if I can be there in Hisar, I’ve never seen the North of India!” And from that point on, he insisted that I must make it. So, Hisar, here I come!

In a journey, yes, yes, the destination is important, the travel mates are important even the food may be important!... but folks, the medium of travel is THE most important. It seemed like back then, when I planned to go to Delhi, the whole airline industry was against me! I mean what are the odds of the ENTIRE Indian Airline Industry raising their ticket prices from Re.1 to Rs. 2500 for just a span of 5 days EXACTLY when I wish to make a reservation!!!

So there I was, forced to buy a railway ticket for a 36 hour long journey from Bangalore to Delhi via the Rajdhani Express. After a nail biting finish, I finally succeeded in getting a confirmed seat on the train (I had been on waiting list for 7 days prior) and with a weird twist, I reached the station two hours early. Now, as usual, like the rest of the throng of humanity, I headed to the café. These guys turned out to be licensed crooks! After charging Rs. 50 for a Cheese Club Sandwich, these guys gave me 3 thin half triangular slices of butter-less bread each holding on to an even thinner slice of cheese with nothing in between them!! After much curses in my native tongue I boarded the train. The railways turned out to be exactly opposite. They were so insistent that I feed myself, that every 4 hours they loaded me with everything they’d got!

8 am: Breakfast – Nice Indian breakfast with Tea
12 pm: Lunch – Full Indian Meal with Rice and Bread and Soup!
4 pm: Tea – Good pot of tea with crackers
8pm: Dinner – Indian Dinner with soup, salads, yogurt and all Indian dishes and Ice-cream!

By 9pm, I was wondering, how the hell the Indian Railways are able to provide such an awesome lay of food in an AC coach with 1/3rd the ticket fare of an airline. I was also wondering how the hell am I going to digest all of this, for I hadn’t crapped in all this while!

I’ve taken many train journeys in India and even one in the US. But, being alone in a long train journey was a new experience. I think in that sense, I prefer the second class because you bump into so many people that a indescribable bond forms within that mosaic of humanity and you end up sharing everything from your birth date to your dreams in life. In an AC coach though, it was all about silence, and manners, and personal space and silence…. And, and silence!.. oh I already said ‘silence’ .. sorry.. So this journey stretched on for longer than I had come prepared for. I had come prepared with two novels, a few films on my laptop. But I had quickly run through most of this when the train chugged into Bhopal – still a whole night’s journey to go. I resorted to that one pastime of man which can go on indefinitely - sleep. Around 7 am though, when the train chugged into the Hazrat Nizamuddin Station, I stepped out into a cold draft of wind. Delhi was cold! And there I was with just a T shirt on my back (well, in my defense, the South and Mumbai – from where I came – are hot places!).

So I spent the first few hours in Delhi sipping piping hot chai at a tea stall till my friend picked me up in his car. I had forgotten my toothbrush and toothpaste. So, our first stop was at a mall. Now, at 10 am, the malls in Delhi are not exactly open. We still managed to find the pair and I went into the men’s room. You should have seen the scandalized looks on the faces of the early morning mall visitors when they saw me open the new toothbrush, paste and start brushing. They must’ve thought I live at the mall! :)

We next headed out to see the “Mughal Gardens” in the environs of the “Rashtrapati Bhavan” the official residence of the President of India – the highest seat of power in the land. This garden is very famous as being one of the most beautifully done gardens by the British surrounding the palace of the then Viceroy of India. Its open to public only for one month in a year.

This was a very memorable experience for me. I am total history buff so anything that brings me in close contact with historical significance enthralls me. And here I was, standing 50 feet from the house of the President of India, in her gardens smelling the roses and the dahlias and taking in the beauty and majesty of the British Raj in its glory. I could almost sense the aura of the Gora Sahib – the British imperial throne which ruled the entire Indian subcontinent from this majestic palace. The Viceroys, Presidents, Prime Ministers who govern the destinies of billions have walked along this garden…. Hmm.. it was truly a satisfying experience.

With this dip in the pool of history, it was now time to satisfy the hungry stomach. I had already decided that I didn’t want to go to any branded restaurant, but instead check out the very local, hole-in-the-wall famous joints in Old Delhi. So we began with Nirula’s ice-cream (yeah, well its not exactly a hole-in-the-wall, but it’s the best frickin’ ice-cream in town!). It was odd to go for double scoop sundae at 11 in the morning, but hey, we were on vacation. Then via Metro to Chandni Chowk. This place has been a rich, dazzling, overflowing bazaar of sweets, food, jewels, cloth, lights and silks since as long as Indians can remember. Take a look at the picture below to understand the density, hum and whirlpool of activity that I am talking about.

Chandni Chowk – cloth merchants


The open bazaar at Chandni Chowk


“ParantheWali Galli” at Chandni Chowk

It’s a seething mass of people, products, services, businesses, eateries and vehicles like you’ve never seen. But the longer you linger around there and soak in the environment, you begin to make out a pattern – an order to the ensuing chaos. You see the cloth dealers who know their target customer segment and pitch their wares accordingly. You see the eateries which have lost contact with hygiene in the mid-20th century! – but now use that same attribute as a Unique Selling Proposition and a branding strategy to attract thousands of customers every day. (I think only in India can you see how uncleanliness becomes a selling proposition!) You see the sweetshops who have been making these delicious masterpieces of Indian sweets since the 1880’s without missing a step even once. Success stories and scandals, shimmering jewels and bangles, wafting scents and spices it is all seen here in Chandni Chowk.

Sumit took me to this small (almost miniscule) by-lane called “Parawnthe Wali Galli” to eat some piping hot paranthas. It was a tiny lane, extending into a maze of such by-lanes some 6 feet wide, dotted with hundred of shops. The moment I walked into it, I was flabbergasted by an amazing battery of smells and sights – of spices and jewel shops. The place we ate at had pictures of former Prime Ministers and Chief Ministers coming here to eat put up on its wall. The chef was making boiling hot paranthas served with sauces, curry and chillies. It was a mouth watering (and eye watering :)) treat! A delightful preparation indeed.


The paranthas being made outside the shop


Sumit outside the “Parawthe Wala” our very own hole in Delhi’s wall :)

At the corner of the mouth of this by-lane stands a 120 year old “Chaat” shop. The Dahi Bhallaas at this place were amazingly good! We followed this up with a trip to Palika Bazaar – Delhi’s “underground” market – both literally physically and metaphorically (as in it deals in boot legged stuff). We got some seriously good deals on some electronic items.

Our last stop that evening in Delhi was the “Delhi Haat” – a fair of merchants from all the different states of India showcasing the legendary Indian art, culture, food and handmade artifacts for sale. It was a curiously archaic atmosphere at the outskirts of modern Delhi. With a crisp evening breeze beginning to blow, I browsed and purchased some authentic handmade items for my close friends. We ended the evening with some nice food from Sikkim (a Northeastern state of India) called “momos”, fruitbeer and some south Indian filter coffee.

I remember feeling very well fed, tired, contented and sleepy while riding the cab out of Delhi that evening. We were heading out to Hisar, Haryana – Sumit’s hometown.

The Great Indian Voyage Contd. (3)

Hisar, Haryana – the land of plenty and home of the Jats

Imagine a land where wholesomeness overflows in every morsel of food, every breath of air and every heart….. a cornucopia of rich culture, harvests, weather, beasts and men. That is the northern land of Punjab and Haryana for you

My first memory of Haryana was seeing a sign at the back of a truck that said: “No but, only Jat” :) In my travels here, I realized that indeed, just like this rustic sense of humor, these people too are very simple. Jats are a warrior caste of the north who have been eternally famous of their vigorous strength, robust courage, keen sense of warfare and a warm and open heart. Sumit – my friend – embodies many of these attributes.

We reached Hisar around midnight and just crashed into bed. I was so sleepy that the harsh cold, the new house nothing registered. When I woke the next morning and put my foot on the floor and jumped up with shock did I realize that this place was so cold! It was still winter out here and I was still ill prepared. Meeting Sumit’s family was a pleasure. His mom and dad, his aunts and cousins and his grand-mom - they’re a joint family of businessmen.

Now what I’m about to describe to you may amaze (or rather gross) you out. But trust me it was totally fun. The morning began with a very typical Punjabi breakfast – three delicious, large and heavy paranthas with homemade awesome butter and yogurt. I was in a happy place by the time I’d finished breakfast. The off we went – Sumit and I – to take in the sights of Hisar. The “sights” here turned out to be all food places. According to Sumit, Hisar is a place people come to have awesome food. So we began our “foodathon” with “Nimbu-Jeera with soda” followed by “Maalpuri with Rabdi” given company by “Khasta Kachori” chased down by some very refreshing “Gol-gappe” and topped by a juicy fruit called “Rasbhari”……… And then it was time for lunch!
The moment we got a call from home saying “khana lag gaya ji” we drove back home. The table was creaking under mounds of dishes and the house smelled like what Hogwarts dining hall would at the welcome feast! There was fresh hot rotis just off the stove and rajma and mutter ki daal and kachundar ka raita and bhindi ki sabzi and green salad and gajar ka halwa! Oh boy, I have never consumed so much food in so short a time span! I was so, so full of warm food inside me that I could neither sit nor sleep. I asked Sumit if we could just go on a food-free walk around the town!  So we went strolling and driving around Hisar seeing the town, its universities and sights. In the evening, Sumit’s mum had made my personal favorite of all Punjabi dishes – Makke di roti aur Sarson da saag along with Maalpuri and rabdi followed by a juicy Calcutta Masala Paan that we picked up at the town’s panwari. Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I had eaten more than a mid size dinosaur in a day and I was all ready to sleep it over!

We left Hisar early next morning for Delhi to catch a flight back to Hyderabad. It was sad to leave the place. Just in a day, I had felt warm and cared for. It was my own magical land of endless nourishing food and happy memories.

And so, I reached back at ISB. Late night all tired from the journey back to my room in Student Village 3. This had been the longest and most variegated journey I had been on in India. From home to b-school campus to open country, I had seen it all and enjoyed it. From cramped autorickshaws to crazy taxi-drivers to cramped airplanes, I had travelled it all. From home made Maharashtrian food to Le Meridien to homemade Punjabi food, I had eaten it all.

It shall remain my Great Indian Voyage for times to come.