This is my narration of my vibrant experience in NCR dated 20th June 2013
Hailing from the small town of Kullu I spent my college days in the so called 'safe', 'clean' and 'manageable' city of Chandigarh. After after living in a cushioned shell the D-day came. I got a call for an interview at the UPSC in Delhi.
Suggestions started pouring: An overwhelming number was concerned about my safety in Delhi rather than my preparation. "Paise purse mein mat rakhna, pichli jeb kaat lenge", said Dad. "Phone ka dhyan rakhna", said Mom. Another one said "Raat ko bahar mat nikalna". All this portrayed as if Delhi is a city is a conflict ridden territory where nothing is guaranteed.
I however had differing notions about the city and I could not subsume my excitement. The notion of Delhi to me was just three things 1. Metro: That fascinating air conditioned shell of stainless steel that glistened in the sun unlike our regular trains 2. People: I mean lots of it like heads floating all around you and 3. Raisana hill: The Olympus of India .
I left Chandigarh in an air conditioned bus. I carried one backpack and one carry case for my formal dress. I reached Delhi around 9:00 in the evening and the sheer traffic dazed me. seeing the commotion all those cautious suggestion coupled with unpleasant consequences started coming into my mind. I got off the bus swiftly, ignored the sly looking auto walls and made my way towards the blue line as directed to me by my sister.
As fate would have it when i stopped for scanning my luggage for a security check I realised that I had forgotten my carry case and in it my formal dress. Instantly I began sweating all the more in the sultry weather of Delhi. For a moment i went numb and a moment later began so think over my options. Should I skip the interview?: "no you dumb wood, you don't leave UPSC after taking so much trouble", my conscience said. Should I go in casuals and explain them the reason: "Haha(grin) they'll kick you out in the first instance". Should I buy a new dress: "Do you have a bloody idea of where to get it in this infinite city, moreover its already 9:45 no chance". After going through all these I took a a decision that was nothing short of radical.
I decided that I would catch the bus and get my dress. Reluctantly I enquired at the Haryana counter about the volvo buses. The main said "Andar pta kar le bhai, bera ko ni" All the more confused and shocked at the seemingly rude reply I went inside and located the Haryana roadways enquiry office. The man said that the bus went to the Gurgaon bus stand and (rudely) advised me to take a metro to gurgaon.
Having no choice i scouted out for the entrance at entered at gate number 7 ISBT. There was not much crowd but in managed to enquire my way to the yellow line panting for breath and still sweating. In all this commotion I ignored the grand structure:A feat of engineering that i was running through.
Anyways I got into the metro towards HUDA city centre. After crossing a couple of stations a new problem cropped into my mind:"Where to get off?". At first i tried being smart and tired searching the internet, le "battery jane wali hai" i noticed. For a moment i thought it was too filmy but after a couple of seconds cursing God and my luck i realised that i was never a good packer for travels. Left with no options i dared to ask a fellow passenger. The man, a partly bald uncle asked, "aapko kahan jana hai". After that he started suggesting me the ways I could reach there. A couple of more passengers joined the discussion and eventually we settled at MG road station, i was advised to catch a bus from there and avoid auto walas.
Then came a question which entirely put to rest my fears about Delhi and the its inhabitants. The bald uncle asked,"kahan se ho?". After a silence of 30 seconds and after deliberating on what to say I somehow decided to stick to the truth. " From kullu", I said. "Kullu - Manali?" the man enquired on the behalf of quite a few fellows. And then ensued out joyous talks on tourist seasons, the exorbitant hotel rates and Apples. It turned out that the man handled apples in Azadpur Mandi. All others smiled as i answered the man's questions.
After getting off the metro I caught an AC bus to the gurgaon bus stand. I must have pleaded 10 times to the conductor to notify me on approaching the bus stand. The man repeatedly assured me in that familiar rough language by now, "baithe reh chore, utar denge". Scouting hopelessly in the bus stand for about 10 minutes a conductor guided me to the volvo bus yard. I ran through the main gate not caring about my new CAT shoes bought on sale(wink). The gatekeep yelled.I stopped and ran towards him. In incomplete breath i enquired about the bus number. He told to go to the entry gate and there finally stood the conductor just closing the door.
So happy I was that i took an auto back to the MG road: In spite of being advised to take the bus(By the way I reached MG road safely). Called my sister(who was worried as hell and called me several time, par bhaag daud mein kise pta lagta hai) and made my way back.
My interview was amazingly good, I visited Raisana hill which gave me goose bums. Travelled in the metro again, by this time I thoroughly admired its elegance: That sleek metal design curving elegantly on bends,air-conditioner and this "ting-tong; agla station Hauz Khas hai darwaze bayin taraf khulenge; kripaya darwazon se hat kar kahde hon Ting-tong"...music to my ears.
I leared a bit of Khadi boli remember "bera ko ni" I'm quite sure now that it means "I don't know" and that Haryanvi has a peculiar character which might seem rude but is not so in reality .Most importantly realised that the people in our country our implicitly good(with exceptions of course!) and that is in spite of the pervading poverty coupled with the daily struggle of livelihood which is the story of many here. Delhi still mesmerises me with its sheer size, pace of life and atop all of it the immense patience that most of the people harbour...O Delhi!
Abhishek Rana
Hailing from the small town of Kullu I spent my college days in the so called 'safe', 'clean' and 'manageable' city of Chandigarh. After after living in a cushioned shell the D-day came. I got a call for an interview at the UPSC in Delhi.
Suggestions started pouring: An overwhelming number was concerned about my safety in Delhi rather than my preparation. "Paise purse mein mat rakhna, pichli jeb kaat lenge", said Dad. "Phone ka dhyan rakhna", said Mom. Another one said "Raat ko bahar mat nikalna". All this portrayed as if Delhi is a city is a conflict ridden territory where nothing is guaranteed.
I however had differing notions about the city and I could not subsume my excitement. The notion of Delhi to me was just three things 1. Metro: That fascinating air conditioned shell of stainless steel that glistened in the sun unlike our regular trains 2. People: I mean lots of it like heads floating all around you and 3. Raisana hill: The Olympus of India .
I left Chandigarh in an air conditioned bus. I carried one backpack and one carry case for my formal dress. I reached Delhi around 9:00 in the evening and the sheer traffic dazed me. seeing the commotion all those cautious suggestion coupled with unpleasant consequences started coming into my mind. I got off the bus swiftly, ignored the sly looking auto walls and made my way towards the blue line as directed to me by my sister.
As fate would have it when i stopped for scanning my luggage for a security check I realised that I had forgotten my carry case and in it my formal dress. Instantly I began sweating all the more in the sultry weather of Delhi. For a moment i went numb and a moment later began so think over my options. Should I skip the interview?: "no you dumb wood, you don't leave UPSC after taking so much trouble", my conscience said. Should I go in casuals and explain them the reason: "Haha(grin) they'll kick you out in the first instance". Should I buy a new dress: "Do you have a bloody idea of where to get it in this infinite city, moreover its already 9:45 no chance". After going through all these I took a a decision that was nothing short of radical.
I decided that I would catch the bus and get my dress. Reluctantly I enquired at the Haryana counter about the volvo buses. The main said "Andar pta kar le bhai, bera ko ni" All the more confused and shocked at the seemingly rude reply I went inside and located the Haryana roadways enquiry office. The man said that the bus went to the Gurgaon bus stand and (rudely) advised me to take a metro to gurgaon.
Having no choice i scouted out for the entrance at entered at gate number 7 ISBT. There was not much crowd but in managed to enquire my way to the yellow line panting for breath and still sweating. In all this commotion I ignored the grand structure:A feat of engineering that i was running through.
Anyways I got into the metro towards HUDA city centre. After crossing a couple of stations a new problem cropped into my mind:"Where to get off?". At first i tried being smart and tired searching the internet, le "battery jane wali hai" i noticed. For a moment i thought it was too filmy but after a couple of seconds cursing God and my luck i realised that i was never a good packer for travels. Left with no options i dared to ask a fellow passenger. The man, a partly bald uncle asked, "aapko kahan jana hai". After that he started suggesting me the ways I could reach there. A couple of more passengers joined the discussion and eventually we settled at MG road station, i was advised to catch a bus from there and avoid auto walas.
Then came a question which entirely put to rest my fears about Delhi and the its inhabitants. The bald uncle asked,"kahan se ho?". After a silence of 30 seconds and after deliberating on what to say I somehow decided to stick to the truth. " From kullu", I said. "Kullu - Manali?" the man enquired on the behalf of quite a few fellows. And then ensued out joyous talks on tourist seasons, the exorbitant hotel rates and Apples. It turned out that the man handled apples in Azadpur Mandi. All others smiled as i answered the man's questions.
After getting off the metro I caught an AC bus to the gurgaon bus stand. I must have pleaded 10 times to the conductor to notify me on approaching the bus stand. The man repeatedly assured me in that familiar rough language by now, "baithe reh chore, utar denge". Scouting hopelessly in the bus stand for about 10 minutes a conductor guided me to the volvo bus yard. I ran through the main gate not caring about my new CAT shoes bought on sale(wink). The gatekeep yelled.I stopped and ran towards him. In incomplete breath i enquired about the bus number. He told to go to the entry gate and there finally stood the conductor just closing the door.
So happy I was that i took an auto back to the MG road: In spite of being advised to take the bus(By the way I reached MG road safely). Called my sister(who was worried as hell and called me several time, par bhaag daud mein kise pta lagta hai) and made my way back.
My interview was amazingly good, I visited Raisana hill which gave me goose bums. Travelled in the metro again, by this time I thoroughly admired its elegance: That sleek metal design curving elegantly on bends,air-conditioner and this "ting-tong; agla station Hauz Khas hai darwaze bayin taraf khulenge; kripaya darwazon se hat kar kahde hon Ting-tong"...music to my ears.
I leared a bit of Khadi boli remember "bera ko ni" I'm quite sure now that it means "I don't know" and that Haryanvi has a peculiar character which might seem rude but is not so in reality .Most importantly realised that the people in our country our implicitly good(with exceptions of course!) and that is in spite of the pervading poverty coupled with the daily struggle of livelihood which is the story of many here. Delhi still mesmerises me with its sheer size, pace of life and atop all of it the immense patience that most of the people harbour...O Delhi!
Abhishek Rana
listoutnow.com applauding job !
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