Cities. Part 2: Delhi

            After the five-and-a-half year long tech-stint in Hyderabad, next stop was New Delhi. In October-end, 2013, I landed up in New Delhi's Old Rajendar Nagar (ORN) coaching hub with my luggage from Hyderabad. My parents arrived there to find and setup a room for me, as usual. 

           And so began, the unsuccessful attempt to become an IAS Officer and "serve people" as against being tucked in a blue-white cubicle. Vajiram and Ravi, the number one coaching centre was the obvious choice. A day would comprise 2 classes: 8am (public administration) and 11am (general studies). Thanks to the college life, getting up early had become a task in itself. Add to it, the cold of winters in North India. A run from my rented accommodation to the institute near ORN Metro Station was paused by a hurried poha-plate breakfast. The pub-ad class was hardly interesting, thanks to the stop-gap teachers and my imagination running riot because of some imaginary fears. The classrooms of Vajiram were a congested lot: my both classes were in a basement, one in the main building and the other one, below the Dominos building. 

           After the first class, I would be back in my room for a light breakfast like milk. After that began the second class of General Studies. Some of the really good teachers: Awadh Ojha sir, Ravindran sir, Minocha sir, Kapuria sir, Sanjeev Verma sir, Shyam Sundar sir- taught us in that batch. They laid the strong base for General studies. Awadh Ojha sir's double meaning jokes, E=E formula, attitude of a bureaucrat, etc. were both funny and showed a practical approach towards the bureaucracy as well as life. Classes, though, packed to the brim were mostly quiet, as most of the students thought they would become IAS sooner or later. However, statistics and sheer competition were always a deciding factor in all the stages of the examination. The lectures were hear-and-jot-down type of classes.

          In these classes, I met two of my future friends: Gaurav (who would go on to become an IAS officer) and Aman Sharma (the noble-hearted legend). We met each other while we were sunbathing before the class began. Sharma ji would keep on writing the notes and peep into our notes to see the missed portion of his notes. His steadfastness towards notes would make us believe at first that this guy would really make it. But destiny had willed it otherwise. Gaurav, on the other hand, stayed in Delhi after the coaching ended and made the most out of his chance at interview by securing the 250-odd rank and get posted in his home state. His cool attitude towards things helped him clear the toughest exam in the world. We had loads of fun teasing Sarma ji.

          Just like cramped rooms for aspirants in Delhi's coaching hubs of ORN and Patel Nagar, my room was small approx. 12 ft by 10 ft room with a massive pillar in the exact centre of it. A world map adorned the wall above my study table. A single-bed with an extra mattress and a little almirah. And a bathroom so tiny that one could not even fall in it properly. And mostly in that little cosy room, I was not alone. Gopal completed his SSC-CGL course from Paramount coaching centre. His friend Tarun too stayed with us and we used to enjoy our tiffin in the afternoon. We also had visitors in the form of Jasmeet, who used to visit his you-know-who and Sid (rani) Shandilya, whenever they came to Delhi. 

        The coaching course of around 9 months was interspersed with visits to home. As usual, mom would invite me home, especially after the course was complete. Ironically, home was a distraction and sapped me of competitive environment I would have got in Delhi, had I stayed on after the coaching was complete. But it's all hindsight.

        I used to occasionally meet my friends who too were civil services aspirants. Taranjot (future IAS), Madhulika, etc. The ORN market itself was a hub of everything related to IAS. The book shops selling monthly current affairs, the juice shop, the chai-corners, the big park for my morning walks, Vajiram's building, Vision IAS test series, etc.

        The lure of the hub brought me to ORN again and again. First, for the Mains test series, I stayed with Attri who was taking coaching then. His room was on the Karol Bagh side of the metro station. I also stayed with Ravi Seth the next year. His room was next to the room of Rohan Botre, the would-be IPS. I also stayed at Gaurav's room for 2-3 days in between. His room was a cute little wooden compartment. 

       The other places I visited in Delhi included Connaught Place (to meet IIIT-H friends), Mausa ji's place, Chacha's flats in Moti Nagar and Karol Bagh, and once to Hauz Khas. Despite being a polluted city, there is some charm to Delhi, its food, its Metro rail, its multiple Railway stations (New Delhi, Old Delhi, Sarai Rohilla, H. Nizammuddin), fashion sense of its people, etc. I frequented then and even now, its railway stations. Rail journeys are my big time favorites. Despite the fact that I have had harrowing experiences there: missing AP Express to Hyderabad in 2008-09 and losing my Sony Xperia P phone in a busy General bogey of the train I took to Ludhiana from Delhi. 

       In 2017, I stayed with Chacha's flat in Karol Bagh and studied in Paryatti Library near Karol Bagh Metro Station. I met my fellow DAV batchmate Rishi Saini there, who was managing civil services with his job in Noida. I also met a frwithesher Rakesh from Nasik. Together, we three enjoyed our tea and snack times. And discussed latest current affairs and library 'affairs' in the park adjoining the library. I've remained in touch with Gaurav, Aman and Rakesh since then. 

        Last but not the least, I appeared for Civil Services Interview twice at the UPSC Bhavan. First interview, in March 2016, in my second attempt, went well. I remember staying at TG's place. Second interview, next year, in March 2017, I went to the UPSC bhavan from Chacha's place in Moti Bagh.  

     Though the purpose for which I stayed in Delhi didn't materialize, I learnt a lot about myself and life during those years.

  

Cities. Part 1: Hyderabad

Hyderabad was the first city I had lived in for a considerable time, outside of my hometown Ludhiana.  I remember the day when the train carrying me and my parents chugged into Hyderabad's Nampally station. It was sometime in the end of July. Our B. Tech batch was scheduled to begin in the start of August 2008. The sky was overcast and once we noted the greenery of Gachibowli and Lingampally along the roads (University of Hyderabad campus and SBI campus), we were excited. Add to it, the roads with constant and smooth ups and downs: beautiful images that are imprinted in my mind to this day.

The 60+ acre college campus was equally lush green although with a reddish rough soil that I kept a close contact with: firstly, though the PT sessions of first three semesters and then through the evening 5pm football routine. The hostels were the best one could find in a top-ranked college like ours. And messes were mostly in a mess, barring the Yuktahaar, the Tuesday south Indian mess (chana poori) and the Thursday NBH mess (Dosas and the long line for them). One could easily blame the Mess Committee for condition of the rest of the messes, of which I was (sadly) a part. But all we could do is set the menu and not coerce the mess vaalas to not to garnish Jasmeet's plate with cockroaches or bidis.

The college years' outings to city outside the college were mainly on foot, autos and local MMTS trains. 

On foot, we often went to Indra Nagar for food and sacred temple visits with the twins and the seer, "Seri Seri" Amma. Though tired after the football game, we would hardly miss the Saturday temple routine. Indra Nagar (Gachibowli) was then upcoming shopping area, comprising - Reliance Fresh, Spencer's, Domi, Subway, pnb ATM, some Chinese restaurant chain on top floor, the sardarji offering golgappas, some Rajasthani dude with parantha shop in roadside basement (I became synonymous with parathas as I frequented that spot), Jaspal and Mani's Punjabi Rasoi, and Delhi 39 a little farther away. 

Our huge group would throng the malls: Inorbit, City Centre, GVK One Mall, Central Mall. Scores of photographs with our first camera phones with the MacD dummy on the bench outside the outlet in City Centre Mall. Using coupons (thanks to 'coupon man') to get burgers virtually for free. I would often buy one-liner T-shirts from Maxx showroom in the same mall. 'Beauty lies in the eye of the beerholder', 'No job, No friend, No girlfriend, come to Delhi', 'I am not perfect but parts of me are incredible', and what not. After the college, I remember the night in Cuban Libre club, when we had fun flaunting our dance moves with a bunch of foreigners.

The jam-packed autos with smaller guys atop the heavier ones with each one overstepping on the other's foot. The pitch darkness in these autos and a sudden rant from Reddy, "Abe mera pair...". 

The movie outings were fun too. We had to visit the Talkie Town (Miyapur) twice for Ghajini as on the first day, we got the lowliest first row (worth Rs. 20/-) and we could not stretch our necks so high to watch the glasses from the stunt scenes literally falling on us. There was IMAX then, where I watched The Dark Knight Rises, Avatar - one of the best viewing experiences.

Our bargains with the auto vaalas and the consequent verbal duels with them were quite common. 

The iconic Hussain Sagar Lake was always a fun outing. We would get down at Khairatabad MMTS station and hire an auto to the Prasad's IMAX. After that would come the dinner, either in the same mall or on Eat Street along with the Lake. The return journey would include catching the local train from Necklace Road station. A couple of videos from our mutual antics on the local train show the fun we used to have with each other. The day we had to catch train to Goa from Kachiguda, was quite exciting as we almost missed the train as the MMTS train connecting from Lingampally to Kachiguda got late for no reason.

The bike rides in the later half of college life and the job were mesmerizing- whether it was Mani's new bike (we touched 120kmph late night on the road to the Inorbit), Fakka, Shukla, Shandi's or later Pingi's. 

Occasionally, we would use Local Buses too, for Mehdipatnam, Koti or Chilkur Balaji (Visa) Temple. The Visa temple presented a sight of hundreds of to-be NRIs faithfully circumambulating the garbhagriha wishing for the H1B lottery software to give a 'YES' against their name. 

Gaming malls and team activities formed another part of outings. Bowling in SVM mall, go-karting and laser tags were fun activities. Team outings in job to resorts in outskirts of the city were refreshing.

Football was a regular fixture in and out of college. From the daily half-court practice games in IIITH, a rare turf game in Madhapur (after I had left the job) and in BHEL ground with North-east origin guys - were best part of the day. The daily football game with kids in the lawn of Aparna Sarovar after coming back home from office was thrilling. That has been the only ground in which I was by far the best player, thanks to my age. Haha.

My fascination for rail journey continued in Hyderabad. The ever speedy MMTS local was treat to travel in, of course, when there was no rush in the train. The acceleration and deceleration, akin to Delhi Metro or any other local train, was always preferable to the jam-packed roads. The Secunderabad station, Nampally station (that dead-end of the track) were the junctions. Lingampally, the nearest local train station nearest to our college was the major stopover in the train journeys. During first year, we used to line up early at the ticket window for tatkal tickets. Later during the job, it was the boarding station for the guys travelling to Bangalore. And that wide road to the airport with boulders all along the path hardly has a comparison. 

The old city charm was explored by me and Shandi in a visit to the Charminar around the time of Eid. The congested area is abuzz with economic activity and lighting. 

Not to forget, I faced many tests and dilemmas in more than five years' stay in the Hyderabad. But they were milestones in knowing myself that, to me, seems the most important thing in life.

And on the last day, Gayal and Sagar were courteous enough to accompany me to the same Nampally station to bid goodbye to me.

All-in-all I have very fond memories of the city. 

Another, बाद city coming up next. Yes, it is Ahmedabad, another capital city.

The Sheds

The bustling mini-town,

of men and women at work,

and of joyous children,

playful with puppies,

carrying them around,

teasing them, and then

escaping them.

Of the gatekeepers,

and their shifts,

mingling with the town, and then

phone-sleeping on the cart.

Of the vegetable vendor,

wooing the near-empty pockets.

Of the contractor,

managing the labour,

gathering them, early morning

for the next sweat.

Of the men,

rushing in the morning,

with their tiffins,

rambling in the evenings,

ambling at the weekends,

gambling in the nights,

before sleeping, 

content,

in columns,

under the uncertain skies.

Of the women,

with their early morning rituals,

at the earliest,

the common lavatories,

and later, their orange jackets,

packed in the vehicle,

towards the construction site,

kids wailing at mums going way,

until the evenings,

at the choolah,

gossips on the weekends,

in narrow lanes between the sheds.

Birds gliding across,

the scene of the sheds,

numerous pigeons,

quarrelsome crows,

chirpy polyglot mynas,

chilled out dove,

and the happiest one,

sparrow-sized brown bird,

yet un-named in my mind,

rising and gliding,

with the wind,

its best friend.

But then,

it happened.

When birds were left alone,

with dogs,

and the sole watchman.

Labourers,

began walking,

the long empty roads,

leaving the sweltering sheds,

sites, turned dead,

for hometowns,

some grew even thinner,

while some perished.

The vocal netizens,

their online sympathy,

while workers dragged slowly,

passing by their homes.

The restless civil society,

the stretched administration,

the frontline khaki,

and the self-less white-coats.

Until now,

when the chains are gone,

the movement is free,

the sheds are bustling,

tirelessly building the skyscrapers,

for the ones,

including this one,

who'll forget them again,

once the job is done.

The Happier Road

The road was happy,

it got bumpy,

because the 'mirror' was dirty,

but the Guru wiped the dust,

and then,

it couldn't have been happier.

Besides the party plot,

lay an observatory, 

previously unnoticed,

gazing towards the universe,

curiously,

simplicity,

joy, wonder,

all along,

like the poet's.

They never met before,

but were always close by.

The 7-year old dream shattered,

another began,

the weight was lifted,

upstream effort abated.

Lessons learnt,

joy returned,

with the star-gazer,

the road must be enjoyed.

Happiness,

is its building material.

Painless

The incessant setbacks in the path to my goal are reflected in this poem, penned after the latest disappointment.

It's 7 now,
in a row,
Six years gone,
slogging,
with anticipations,
with visuals,
of success,
that remain
where they take birth,
still there.

While others,
they've raced ahead,
piled up reserves,
work experience,
some married,
some dads,
travellers,
and their trekking fads.

Experts, they are,
with break-free careers.

And here,
a huge gap,
no specialization,
half-jack of all trades.
Uniform, yes,
knowledge, rare.
General knowledge,
oh yeah,
that habit,
of binge-watching the newspapers.

The desire to rise,
the sick road taken,
the idealism,
that started it all,
is flickering,
those 'reforms',
the 'selflessness',
is stuttering,
facing essential questions,
is it OK to be selfish?
It might well be.

The determination,
is all but gone,
the thought of,
having missed,
the sceneries around
the 'determined' road,
haunts,
or have I not
missed much?

But there are stories,
of miracles,
of last-ditch attempts,
the final push,
the 'Do-or-die' fevour,
that mattered in the end,
all guilts evaporated,
pain forgotten,
'impossible' was proscribed.

The vigor must remain,
cool head,
careful analysis,
for these 7 may have
been due a reason,
What reason?
He knows.

Calmness,
diligence,
smart work,
concentration-
all needed.
For anyways,
it's already painless now.

The Happy Road

I turn, and I enter
the dim road,
brought into shape,
by a street lamp.

Travellers,
hardly any,
maybe a rare cyclist,
like me, or
a daily wage earner.

Residents,
many.
A tree,
dancing merrily with wind,
'content in solitude'.
Few shops,
workers tending machines,
the waiting barber, and
a lady, tired,
of ironing the 'rich' clothes,
the iron lady.

A school,
haunted,
till the morning bell.

The 'party' plot,
dark and lonely,
after the last night glitter.

At the far end,
a tea stall,
with an odd guest.
Adjoining the roadside temple,
the ringing bell,
of faith,
the sleepy priest.
And outside,
his partner,
the florist,
sifting the dead ones.

But the road,
it is happy,
to rest,
to roll,
basking in the moonlight.

Where does it lead to?
My mind.

P.S: I enjoy cycling on weekends these days. A particular street I cross, caught my attention and led to this poem.

No Longer The Studying Kind

Wrote the following paragraph on 23rd March 2010 (2nd year of B.Tech). Things certainly had changed from school to college:

There were school days when I used to enjoy studying, how eagerly I did my homework and how good were the teachers. But now, it has been long since I met books. This bloody laptop, through which I am writing my feelings is a damn idiot thing, that is responsible. On the whole I am myself responsible for this ordeal. There's nothing such as true interest left in me. Study just a day before, grasp the facts as much as you can. In the friend circles, we enjoy a lot but dedication is no longer to be seen. To a college student of today's era, my thoughts may seem cynical. The "chill" attitude that I have developed, troubles me a lot. Somewhere I miss that tint of contentedness that I used to have doing my home work myself, and not copying it two minutes before the deadline, like we do here today. You see the student who is my age group studying in MIT, is still thinking of solving that silly problem he faced developing the algorithm or visualizing the graphics of that game and I ? Full of remorse, days passing by .... I may get a job, then we would recall that how much fun we used to have, but true to heart maybe a pinch of guilt will continue to remain. I heard that life comes only once.....God help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!