This evening, I had a very annoying time with rush hour traffic in New Delhi.
I wanted to make it from my apartment in Jangpura Extension, to get pick up some photos I had framed in the adjacent neighborhood, Lajpat Nagar. I looked at my clock and saw it was 6:30pm. I thought "this should be easy, I can be back in an hour".
I considered my options: I could take the Metro (subway). Yes, I would take the metro. I could walk to the metro station... or I could hire a cycle-rickshaw. Well, my apartement is only a five minute walk from the metro station. I would walk there then. So I walked there.
I stepped out of my apartment and turned right. I live in a wonderful leafy neighborhood. I live at an intersection where there are three parks within stone-throwing distance from my house. I crossed through one of these and was delighted to see that the fountain in the center of the park was on and spraying high into the air. I'd only ever seen this fountain in its dormant state... baking in the hot and dry sun. A group of families was standing around the fountain, enjoying its spray. I stopped a moment or two as well.
I finished crossing the park and then walked down the lane toward the metro station. And then I saw it. And I remembered it. There is a large concrete fly-over that cuts along the edge of my neighborhood and sends three lands of traffic in either direction to/from defense colony and the Nehru stadium. There is a stretch of this fly-over that is at ground level, and people often cross there on foot. Have you ever played the game "Frogger"?
I'd crossed at this spot before... but always in the early afternoon. It was always a bit scary, but possible. Today it was an unceasing river of cars, motorcycles, buses, and auto-rickshaws. I stood for almost ten minutes, before taking my life into my hands and dashing across the road. I made a very strong mental note to take the cycle-rickshaw next time. Those guys take the long way around, and go under the fly-over, but they avoid this deadly road crossing.
I then entered the Metro, bought my ticket (actually I use an automated card, and just tap the card on the turnstile to enter -- after putting my bag through the metal detector). I went to the platform. Lajpat Nagar was only one stop south from Jangpura. The train arrived, and as always was totally packed. I squeezed on and stood by the door. I have only once sat down on the Delhi Metro. Every other time, my ride has been packed to capacity and I stood.
I made it one stop and realized I had to cross the train to exit from the other door. This was difficult given that everyone was squeezed together. But I pushed my way through, and muttered my American apologies. I was met with shocked stares -- not because I bumped someone, or hit the other guy with my bag, but because I was actually bothering to say 'Sorry... excuse me, sorry...".
I rolled out of the train door and exited the Metro station without further incident. I then walked the half kilometer along the busy commercial road that now runs along the line of the metro, and on the western edge of Lajpat Nagar. This is a familiar route, as I've done some shopping in Lajpat Nagar before, and crossed this same path.
I found my frame shop, and picked up my goods. I also stopped to buy some dried raisins from the punjabi fruit dealer in Lajpat Nagar central market. He also had some ground cinnamon I was interested in. Despite living in asia for nearly five years, I still like oat-meal for breakfast. And it has not quite been the same these past few weeks, living without cinnamon.
I also stopped by a street stall to have Chinese food (noodles, paneer!!, "manchurian" dumplings, and chili potatoes). It was far to salty. And not really very good. But I told the lady it was very good, and that I liked the chili potatoes. I don't know why I told her that, but she seemed very pleased (was she surprised???).
Then I was on my way home. I walked back toward the Metro station. I needed to use the ATM bank there anyway. I withdrew some pocket money, and then found the surrounding area to be desolate and abandoned of auto-rickshaws. I thought I'd take an auto home, since I was carrying some stuff now.
I saw one auto rickshaw driver dressed all in bright white. It was dark outside now, and his shirt and pants glowed yellow in the street lamp under the elevated metro station. He looked like he was quite restful. I asked if he was still working, and could take me to Jangpura. This would be a small fare for him... maybe 30 Rupees. He shook his head, with a weary "no". I looked around. Stunned that there were no other autos around. I strolled around a bit... but then decided to take the Metro again.
I climbed up into the station, had my bag x-rayed, and my pockets grapled by the security guard. I went to my platform and just as the next train was arriving. But this train was absolutely full. People squeezed to get on , and failed, and so began a queue for the next train. I joined this queue, cursing my decision to run this frame errand at this time of day.
The next train arrived, and it was even more crowded. But I realized I could wait all night. So I held my breath, elongated my body, and pressed in among all the other poor fools trying to get home after work. I stood by the door.
Now, I am a fairly smart guy. But I don't always learn lessons quick enough. By the time my train had gone its one stop to Jangpura, I was still standing by the door I had entered... Completely forgetting that I had to cross the train car in order to exit on the other side. The train stopped. The doors opened... and I could not move. There were too many people. I pushed past. My bag certainly catching people in uncomfortable bodily places. I made it half way... Yes, I think I can make it. I mumbled my apologies, and made it one human row from the door. I'd be able to get out!... But, there in front of the door way, was a man with two boxes stacked in front of him. I tried to step over and exit the car, but the box was in the way. I think I knocked it over. The door closed. I was still on the train. I missed the stop. I had to go one more stop, and then turn around.
I was now very annoyed. Mad actually. ... Now let me pause here to remind everyone that I am still in a fragile sort of mind. I am a pretty well traveled guy. And I've seen many things. But I am certainly suffering some mild culture-shock here in Delhi. Things are just different. And I came most recently from the city of Singapore -- where everything works smoothly and cleanly. In many ways, Singapore may have ruined me! It is too convenient! At least for the next few months, I will be comparing everyting in India to that relative paradise of the Lion City...
I got off the train at the next station -- JLN Stadium. I looked at the signboard and saw the next train would be arriving in an infuriating seven minutes!! I debated in my mind: "I can wait." "I can go up and try to catch an auto from here." "If you go up, with your luck today, there will be no autos. You will come back down." "The stadium probably does not have many autos." "There must be autos here! I'm going up!". ... I went up.
There were no autos here. Two buses past. A mangy dog sat on the pavement and laughed at me. His tongue was long, hanging out of his mouth. "What are you trying to do?", he asked.
I went back downstairs, and paid again for the Metro. I was now feeling really dumb, and cursing the city and its rush hour. I was wishing I knew some curse-words in Hindi.
I missed the seven minute train. It departed as I was walking down the Metro stairs. I could hear the dog outside laughing again.
I waited for the next train, and it was just a filled with people as before. I squeezed on and stood by the door. I was sure that the door would open right next to me at the following stop. But I was also certain that today it would not. I'd have to jump over to the other side. ... But I arrived at Jangpura, and I exited.
Then my luck changed. One, because there is a certain magic about this place Jangpura for me. The first time I visited the place (searching for apartments). I was mesmerized by a certain quality to the light and air there. And each time I go back, I feel somehow refreshed. It cannot be explained in words. So I was feeling better.
I stepped outside, and planned to take a cycle-rickshaw back to my apartment. There is always a long queue of cycle-rickshaws waiting at the Metro station. I was looking for one in particular.
A few weeks ago, I was taking a cycle-rickshaw from the Metro. I met one smiling 'driver' (pedaler??) who offered me a ride. I asked him how much. He told me not to worry. Whatever I felt like. I did not like this answer, but he would not agree on a price in advance. Oh well, I got in. We chatted as he pedaled along the road. He was quite nice, and told me a few things about himself and the neighborhood. He was really nice, actually. I liked him. He dropped me at my place, and I told him it was his lucky day. I then gave him 100 Rupees for the ride (standard fare is maybe 20 Rupees). He was incredibly happy about that. He accepted it and said I was a good guy. His name is Mohammed.
A week later, I was coming back from the Metro again. I decided not to take the cycle rickshaw, an try my luck at the Frogger game. I crossed the driveway in front of the Metro and was waiting at the roadside to make my leap of faith across the hurtling traffic. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Mohammed. He was smiling and waving me back to his cycle-rickshaw. He told me he'd give me a ride. I told him I could walk. He said, no problem he'd give me a ride for no charge. He wanted to show me his cycle. I agreed. Because I like the guy. He told me that last time I gave him 100 Rupees, so today he'd give me a free ride. He showed me all new plastic siding and an awning/umbrella on his cycle. It was bright white, and looked pretty good. I think he bought it after my generous tip from last time. Now, his passengers would get less wet when it rained. I complimented his new ride. Then he took me home. And would not accept any money from me after.
So tonight, when I exited the Metro station, I checked to see if Mohammed was there. Not to get a free ride! But because I like the guy. It was dark, and I could not see very well. Someone waved at me, the third guy back in the rickshaw queue. I thought it must be Mohammed. Who else would wave. But it wasn't. It was some other dude. I told him where I wanted to go and agreed on a price. I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was Mohammed again! He saw me negotiating with the other driver. He told me the other driver was his friend, so it was OK. The other driver told me Mohammed was his "bigger brother". I explained how I saw him waving at me, and thought it must be Mohammed. They both laughed, and I went with the new driver this time. On the way, he told me that his wife's sister was married to Mohammed. And Mohammed was from Bangledesh. He dropped me at home, and I told him it was his lucky day as well. I gave him 50 Rupees for the ride. (OK, not as lucky as Mohammed, but I can't get a bad reputation around all the drivers!)
And that concluded my rush hour maddening errand trip. I'll avoid such excursions in the future. But glad to note that people in this world can help turn a bad evening into a good moment.
I wanted to make it from my apartment in Jangpura Extension, to get pick up some photos I had framed in the adjacent neighborhood, Lajpat Nagar. I looked at my clock and saw it was 6:30pm. I thought "this should be easy, I can be back in an hour".
I considered my options: I could take the Metro (subway). Yes, I would take the metro. I could walk to the metro station... or I could hire a cycle-rickshaw. Well, my apartement is only a five minute walk from the metro station. I would walk there then. So I walked there.
I stepped out of my apartment and turned right. I live in a wonderful leafy neighborhood. I live at an intersection where there are three parks within stone-throwing distance from my house. I crossed through one of these and was delighted to see that the fountain in the center of the park was on and spraying high into the air. I'd only ever seen this fountain in its dormant state... baking in the hot and dry sun. A group of families was standing around the fountain, enjoying its spray. I stopped a moment or two as well.
I finished crossing the park and then walked down the lane toward the metro station. And then I saw it. And I remembered it. There is a large concrete fly-over that cuts along the edge of my neighborhood and sends three lands of traffic in either direction to/from defense colony and the Nehru stadium. There is a stretch of this fly-over that is at ground level, and people often cross there on foot. Have you ever played the game "Frogger"?
I'd crossed at this spot before... but always in the early afternoon. It was always a bit scary, but possible. Today it was an unceasing river of cars, motorcycles, buses, and auto-rickshaws. I stood for almost ten minutes, before taking my life into my hands and dashing across the road. I made a very strong mental note to take the cycle-rickshaw next time. Those guys take the long way around, and go under the fly-over, but they avoid this deadly road crossing.
I then entered the Metro, bought my ticket (actually I use an automated card, and just tap the card on the turnstile to enter -- after putting my bag through the metal detector). I went to the platform. Lajpat Nagar was only one stop south from Jangpura. The train arrived, and as always was totally packed. I squeezed on and stood by the door. I have only once sat down on the Delhi Metro. Every other time, my ride has been packed to capacity and I stood.
I made it one stop and realized I had to cross the train to exit from the other door. This was difficult given that everyone was squeezed together. But I pushed my way through, and muttered my American apologies. I was met with shocked stares -- not because I bumped someone, or hit the other guy with my bag, but because I was actually bothering to say 'Sorry... excuse me, sorry...".
I rolled out of the train door and exited the Metro station without further incident. I then walked the half kilometer along the busy commercial road that now runs along the line of the metro, and on the western edge of Lajpat Nagar. This is a familiar route, as I've done some shopping in Lajpat Nagar before, and crossed this same path.
I found my frame shop, and picked up my goods. I also stopped to buy some dried raisins from the punjabi fruit dealer in Lajpat Nagar central market. He also had some ground cinnamon I was interested in. Despite living in asia for nearly five years, I still like oat-meal for breakfast. And it has not quite been the same these past few weeks, living without cinnamon.
I also stopped by a street stall to have Chinese food (noodles, paneer!!, "manchurian" dumplings, and chili potatoes). It was far to salty. And not really very good. But I told the lady it was very good, and that I liked the chili potatoes. I don't know why I told her that, but she seemed very pleased (was she surprised???).
Then I was on my way home. I walked back toward the Metro station. I needed to use the ATM bank there anyway. I withdrew some pocket money, and then found the surrounding area to be desolate and abandoned of auto-rickshaws. I thought I'd take an auto home, since I was carrying some stuff now.
I saw one auto rickshaw driver dressed all in bright white. It was dark outside now, and his shirt and pants glowed yellow in the street lamp under the elevated metro station. He looked like he was quite restful. I asked if he was still working, and could take me to Jangpura. This would be a small fare for him... maybe 30 Rupees. He shook his head, with a weary "no". I looked around. Stunned that there were no other autos around. I strolled around a bit... but then decided to take the Metro again.
I climbed up into the station, had my bag x-rayed, and my pockets grapled by the security guard. I went to my platform and just as the next train was arriving. But this train was absolutely full. People squeezed to get on , and failed, and so began a queue for the next train. I joined this queue, cursing my decision to run this frame errand at this time of day.
The next train arrived, and it was even more crowded. But I realized I could wait all night. So I held my breath, elongated my body, and pressed in among all the other poor fools trying to get home after work. I stood by the door.
Now, I am a fairly smart guy. But I don't always learn lessons quick enough. By the time my train had gone its one stop to Jangpura, I was still standing by the door I had entered... Completely forgetting that I had to cross the train car in order to exit on the other side. The train stopped. The doors opened... and I could not move. There were too many people. I pushed past. My bag certainly catching people in uncomfortable bodily places. I made it half way... Yes, I think I can make it. I mumbled my apologies, and made it one human row from the door. I'd be able to get out!... But, there in front of the door way, was a man with two boxes stacked in front of him. I tried to step over and exit the car, but the box was in the way. I think I knocked it over. The door closed. I was still on the train. I missed the stop. I had to go one more stop, and then turn around.
I was now very annoyed. Mad actually. ... Now let me pause here to remind everyone that I am still in a fragile sort of mind. I am a pretty well traveled guy. And I've seen many things. But I am certainly suffering some mild culture-shock here in Delhi. Things are just different. And I came most recently from the city of Singapore -- where everything works smoothly and cleanly. In many ways, Singapore may have ruined me! It is too convenient! At least for the next few months, I will be comparing everyting in India to that relative paradise of the Lion City...
I got off the train at the next station -- JLN Stadium. I looked at the signboard and saw the next train would be arriving in an infuriating seven minutes!! I debated in my mind: "I can wait." "I can go up and try to catch an auto from here." "If you go up, with your luck today, there will be no autos. You will come back down." "The stadium probably does not have many autos." "There must be autos here! I'm going up!". ... I went up.
There were no autos here. Two buses past. A mangy dog sat on the pavement and laughed at me. His tongue was long, hanging out of his mouth. "What are you trying to do?", he asked.
I went back downstairs, and paid again for the Metro. I was now feeling really dumb, and cursing the city and its rush hour. I was wishing I knew some curse-words in Hindi.
I missed the seven minute train. It departed as I was walking down the Metro stairs. I could hear the dog outside laughing again.
I waited for the next train, and it was just a filled with people as before. I squeezed on and stood by the door. I was sure that the door would open right next to me at the following stop. But I was also certain that today it would not. I'd have to jump over to the other side. ... But I arrived at Jangpura, and I exited.
Then my luck changed. One, because there is a certain magic about this place Jangpura for me. The first time I visited the place (searching for apartments). I was mesmerized by a certain quality to the light and air there. And each time I go back, I feel somehow refreshed. It cannot be explained in words. So I was feeling better.
I stepped outside, and planned to take a cycle-rickshaw back to my apartment. There is always a long queue of cycle-rickshaws waiting at the Metro station. I was looking for one in particular.
A few weeks ago, I was taking a cycle-rickshaw from the Metro. I met one smiling 'driver' (pedaler??) who offered me a ride. I asked him how much. He told me not to worry. Whatever I felt like. I did not like this answer, but he would not agree on a price in advance. Oh well, I got in. We chatted as he pedaled along the road. He was quite nice, and told me a few things about himself and the neighborhood. He was really nice, actually. I liked him. He dropped me at my place, and I told him it was his lucky day. I then gave him 100 Rupees for the ride (standard fare is maybe 20 Rupees). He was incredibly happy about that. He accepted it and said I was a good guy. His name is Mohammed.
A week later, I was coming back from the Metro again. I decided not to take the cycle rickshaw, an try my luck at the Frogger game. I crossed the driveway in front of the Metro and was waiting at the roadside to make my leap of faith across the hurtling traffic. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Mohammed. He was smiling and waving me back to his cycle-rickshaw. He told me he'd give me a ride. I told him I could walk. He said, no problem he'd give me a ride for no charge. He wanted to show me his cycle. I agreed. Because I like the guy. He told me that last time I gave him 100 Rupees, so today he'd give me a free ride. He showed me all new plastic siding and an awning/umbrella on his cycle. It was bright white, and looked pretty good. I think he bought it after my generous tip from last time. Now, his passengers would get less wet when it rained. I complimented his new ride. Then he took me home. And would not accept any money from me after.
So tonight, when I exited the Metro station, I checked to see if Mohammed was there. Not to get a free ride! But because I like the guy. It was dark, and I could not see very well. Someone waved at me, the third guy back in the rickshaw queue. I thought it must be Mohammed. Who else would wave. But it wasn't. It was some other dude. I told him where I wanted to go and agreed on a price. I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was Mohammed again! He saw me negotiating with the other driver. He told me the other driver was his friend, so it was OK. The other driver told me Mohammed was his "bigger brother". I explained how I saw him waving at me, and thought it must be Mohammed. They both laughed, and I went with the new driver this time. On the way, he told me that his wife's sister was married to Mohammed. And Mohammed was from Bangledesh. He dropped me at home, and I told him it was his lucky day as well. I gave him 50 Rupees for the ride. (OK, not as lucky as Mohammed, but I can't get a bad reputation around all the drivers!)
And that concluded my rush hour maddening errand trip. I'll avoid such excursions in the future. But glad to note that people in this world can help turn a bad evening into a good moment.
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