serendipitous:
this evening as i was leaving work, i bumped into a colleague .. a wonderful full-of-life italian girl who has been living and working in India for three years [amazing!]. I didn't have too much time to speak as my Hindi class is on tuesdays and thursdays. It just happened that we were both going to the same place, so we hopped in an auto, both bargaining in Hindi with the subsequently befuddled auto-walla.
from the classic yellow and green auto, we took the sleek delhi metro - very decently priced, clean, spacious, and efficient. It's a whole new experience for me to take the metro in delhi, since i have been coming here since childhood and had never ridden it until this year (although its been running for the last decade). i know its horrible to say, but.. its like being in a real city! not that the maddness ends at the metro, one only needs to board at Huda City Centre to know that the rat race is as fervent on the metro as anywhere else here (a story for another day), but the modern digs make Delhi that degree more navigable.
as the windtunnel spiked the metro air with energy, we talked and laughed- reiterating much discussed pasts until we began to twist around ideas of the future. it was great to take the journey together, and when we emerged in Malviya Nagar - the sun was hanging a orange-spiked golden sheen over everything in sight.
hilarious:
my hindi class is, unsurprisngly, filled with foreigners.. or 'firungis' as we are affectionately known. Today the class was fuller than it has been in weeks, and some how the collection of cultures just lead to erruptions of laugther at every point in the two-hour lesson. we all pulled out home-style stereotypes, and equally contested them when asked questions like.. 'sab log ko america mein beer pina pasand hai?' [do all people in america like to drink beer?]
the class is comprised of : gentle Ikue from Japan, American/German/Jewish/Sweetest Alex, Angela from Spain- of course, Anirudh from Austrailia (who obviously surfs all the time, but his parents are Indian), Mimi who is a stunning gujrati french woman, and Amy Jones from quaint old england.
We are a motely crew. But the cheif of the whole show is Rajendra-ji, our humble, giggly, groovy guru. he is a superb teacher with remarkable patience and humour, and makes the difficult task of learning hindi very fun.
tumultuous:
there is no doubt that in between every light area, there is a shadow - its what gives form. however, the construction of life and death here is so forward and yet so masked that it can one day make you turn your head from a starving child, and another day break down in tears watching an old man beg.
i dont know if its possible to always stay incubated by illusion, to fully 'adjust'. and lately, i've found myself dissolving in the face of destitution.
but theres that karmic twang that kicks hope back into me.
i was stopped at a red light. 4 street children between the ages of 4 and 9 were standing on the concrete medium, barefooted, chowing on a dirty bag of chips. one was holding flowers, but was too distracted by the chips to sell them. they were all laughing, enjoying, as if it was a great time out with mates rather than a momentary pause in an extremely difficult childhood.
i usually give food, but i hadn't any left over from lunch today. looking at them, i couldn't help but call out, 'oye! छोटू !' (hey! little one!) .. how much for the flowers?' I bought a bunch, and when the light turned green they all waved me off with beaming smiles. When i was close to my family's house, i asked the auto to pull over and started to dig some rupees out of my wallet. turns out i had given the kids almost the last of my cash, and was half short for the auto-walla. i explained and apologized, but still felt like i robbed him. he essentially told me not to worry about it, and when i said 'thank you bhaiya', i truly meant, "thank you brother."
this evening as i was leaving work, i bumped into a colleague .. a wonderful full-of-life italian girl who has been living and working in India for three years [amazing!]. I didn't have too much time to speak as my Hindi class is on tuesdays and thursdays. It just happened that we were both going to the same place, so we hopped in an auto, both bargaining in Hindi with the subsequently befuddled auto-walla.
from the classic yellow and green auto, we took the sleek delhi metro - very decently priced, clean, spacious, and efficient. It's a whole new experience for me to take the metro in delhi, since i have been coming here since childhood and had never ridden it until this year (although its been running for the last decade). i know its horrible to say, but.. its like being in a real city! not that the maddness ends at the metro, one only needs to board at Huda City Centre to know that the rat race is as fervent on the metro as anywhere else here (a story for another day), but the modern digs make Delhi that degree more navigable.
as the windtunnel spiked the metro air with energy, we talked and laughed- reiterating much discussed pasts until we began to twist around ideas of the future. it was great to take the journey together, and when we emerged in Malviya Nagar - the sun was hanging a orange-spiked golden sheen over everything in sight.
hilarious:
my hindi class is, unsurprisngly, filled with foreigners.. or 'firungis' as we are affectionately known. Today the class was fuller than it has been in weeks, and some how the collection of cultures just lead to erruptions of laugther at every point in the two-hour lesson. we all pulled out home-style stereotypes, and equally contested them when asked questions like.. 'sab log ko america mein beer pina pasand hai?' [do all people in america like to drink beer?]
the class is comprised of : gentle Ikue from Japan, American/German/Jewish/Sweetest Alex, Angela from Spain- of course, Anirudh from Austrailia (who obviously surfs all the time, but his parents are Indian), Mimi who is a stunning gujrati french woman, and Amy Jones from quaint old england.
We are a motely crew. But the cheif of the whole show is Rajendra-ji, our humble, giggly, groovy guru. he is a superb teacher with remarkable patience and humour, and makes the difficult task of learning hindi very fun.
tumultuous:
there is no doubt that in between every light area, there is a shadow - its what gives form. however, the construction of life and death here is so forward and yet so masked that it can one day make you turn your head from a starving child, and another day break down in tears watching an old man beg.
i dont know if its possible to always stay incubated by illusion, to fully 'adjust'. and lately, i've found myself dissolving in the face of destitution.
but theres that karmic twang that kicks hope back into me.
i was stopped at a red light. 4 street children between the ages of 4 and 9 were standing on the concrete medium, barefooted, chowing on a dirty bag of chips. one was holding flowers, but was too distracted by the chips to sell them. they were all laughing, enjoying, as if it was a great time out with mates rather than a momentary pause in an extremely difficult childhood.
i usually give food, but i hadn't any left over from lunch today. looking at them, i couldn't help but call out, 'oye! छोटू !' (hey! little one!) .. how much for the flowers?' I bought a bunch, and when the light turned green they all waved me off with beaming smiles. When i was close to my family's house, i asked the auto to pull over and started to dig some rupees out of my wallet. turns out i had given the kids almost the last of my cash, and was half short for the auto-walla. i explained and apologized, but still felt like i robbed him. he essentially told me not to worry about it, and when i said 'thank you bhaiya', i truly meant, "thank you brother."
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