Ponto de Vista

So, while I do miss Trader Joe’s and biking along the Charles in Boston, the one thing I’ve found a good substitute for is the library. I actually patronize (that sounds awful) Eloor
which is beautifully stocked and really a pleasure to visit. The other day, though, I was surprised to find that the hole-in-the-wall library I frequented as a kid, daily (except on Mondays when they were closed, so I was allowed two books on Sundays,) had re-opened. As a 7-year-old I would ride to the library sitting side-saddle on the back rack of our Man Friday’s bike. By the time I was 11, I was deemed old enough to manage the 8-minute walk on my own. Displaying my OCD tendencies even then, I serially ploughed through all the Enid Blytons, Carolyne Keene’s, Franklin W. Dixons, Alfred Hitchcocks, Robert Arthurs‘s Three Investigator books (Jupitor Jones is responsible, I’m sure, for my obsession with business cards) graduating on to Sidney Sheldon and Lawrence Anderson. What was my mother thinking?? Nah, I’m glad she gave me free reign. Yes, I was precocious, but, hey, I knew stuff!! 😀 Oh and the 3L’s are: Live, Laugh, Learn. Cute, no?

After work one day, I decided to do a bit of shopping at Lajpat Nagar market — one of the largest markets in Asia — and on my way back at gloaming, my cycle rickshaw walla (whom I chose over an auto rickshaw since it’s environmentally sounder) decided to go the wrong way up Ring Road — only the busiest thoroughfare in Delhi! That’s the view over the rickshaw walla’s shoulder as I held on tight with one hand, continually gasping in disbelief that we didn’t get hit, head on!
I don’t recommend it. It’s hair raising to have cars, buses, and scooters (and random pedestrians dashing across!) aim at you and only just barely miss!

I’ve been a Punditz fan for a long, long time. I absolutely heart their music, buy all their singles off iTunes and their albums where I find them, I have a total crush on one of them, and my friends will attest that I am not very quiet about my single-minded admiration. So how could I pass up the chance to see them live? They performed at Elevate, which I had heard lots about and really liked the vibe of, with a percussionist, flautist, and a vocalist who also played guitar. The set rocked despite some technical glitches and a lot of random feedback when the singer (Mayank? Pappon) was on (I can’t find a reference to their guests’ names anywhere). They started the set kinda slow (a hard drop from the deep house before) and then built it up to Ranjhaan (yum) and finally Fever pitch.
Anyway, I had a hard time trying to decide between good photos and flattering photos so here are two 😉 Yes, it’s all relative.

The Sunday before last started out still and hot. By 2pm, the sky was overcast. By 2:15 there was a dust storm and really high winds. 10 minutes later we had torrential rainfall. Two of the big ficus benjaminas fell off a first floor balcony. The rain was cool and I was reminded how delightful it can be to get wet in the Indian downpour, when the water and the air around you are not freezing you to the bone… Anyway, everything was not all roses. Outside the house, this tree fell and crushed a neighbor’s car. A frangipani was also destroyed. But the irony is that I didn’t take this photo on Sunday. The tree was cleared away only a week later — because the car owners were waiting to file with their insurance company.

We’ve had frequent and intense rain in Delhi as the temperatures have soared. Last week I got off a bus and within the 20 seconds it took me to dash to the pedestrian underpass (or ‘subway’ in the local lingo), I was soaked. The rain battered the city for about 20 minutes and when it settled to a steady drizzle, I decided to walk home. But, the drainage in South Delhi sucks! So I had to retrace my steps, take detours, completely turn around even, and then finally, when I was about 50 yards from home — I got stuck! I was marooned on a 1-foot square of dry land and I really had no other way to go except through calf-deep muck! 😉 Then I saw inspiration. This dude was coming crab-like along the lower part of the corner house wall, thereby avoiding the flood below. So once he hopped on to dry land, I took his place and went the way he’d come — inching sideways along this random person’s house. And that’s how I got home without having to take my sandals off and wade through dirty, murky water! Hurray!

These are my drugs. Three tiny alcohol-and-something-else-soaked sugar pills for my allergies to dust, pollen, and, well, Delhi 😉 It could be a placebo effect but the hay fever and sore throat symptoms have decreased dramatically. Yay for placebos and alternative medicines. Yay to not being hooked on allegra.

Yesterday, a chapter closed on the long-drawn saga of my elliptical machine. Three weeks ago, when I started looking for gyms I found they had all been sealed — i.e. the police had shut them down for operating out of residences. (Idiots!) So I did some research and found that the cost of 5 months of membership to one of these home-grown gyms pretty much equaled the cost of a mid-level elliptical machine (the only machine I do at the gym b/c of my feet.) After some serious comparison shopping, I found a good deal and paid an advance to have it sent to my house. That was more than two weeks ago. The piece “got stuck in customs,” had “trouble unloading,” “got stopped at the border,” and finally made it to Delhi, I’m told, but for some reason the dude had stopped answering my calls. Finally, I got him to commit (and that word is always used very loosely around these parts) to a time. Three more commitments later and many hours spent waiting and rearranging plans around the estimated drop-off time, I finally called off the deal and went to get my advance back. (I don’t know why I really expected the chap to show up at the time he said he would, honestly. I’m so naive sometimes.) And instead of the black model I’d chosen, I had to opt for this devilish red, flamed one instead from another vendor because it was in stock. And surprise, surprise! It actually showed up at home as promised, when promised!

One achy week, I asked around for a recommendation for a massage. I have been fascinated with the idea of an ayurvedic massage — of hot oil infused with herbs that are purported to heal you inside out — since my mother tried to get her bum thumb cured 😉 Tripti recommended the Sivananda Center, an ashram for yoga and meditation that also offers Kerala massage. On Saturday, right after a very delayed lunch (I don’t recommend this schedule if you get a massage) I went to East of Kailash and was then stripped and put in a langoti (for lack of a better word) and massaged down with hot, hot oil on this bizarre, slippery table that you see. (I snuck a photo when she left me to change back into my clothes). Afterward, I was shut into the little cupboard with the holes you see on the left that is attached to a pressure cooker (Yes. Really. Look!) and with my head sticking out and the rest of me inside the cupboard, I was steamed till I thought my internal organs were nearly cooked. Then I took a shower in the adjoining bathroom.

The massage left me somnabulating, and dying for a nap. It was relaxing but it hadn’t done much for the stiffness in my hip and my shoulders. But then, not much does …

This is a view of the very festive Mata Ka Mandir in Jhandewalan taken from a window at work on the 8th floor of Videocon Tower (an extreme eyesore of a building) in which we work. Reflected in the glass are (from left to right) me, Rani, Rajat, and Ragini

The day before holi, the festival of color in which traditionally a bonfire is lit at night, Sheetal and I passed by these happy women building an enormous bonfire — in the middle of a pretty big crossroads. From my side of the road, their efforts were framed by this lovely exhortation from the Delhi government.