Simply Delhi

If you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a rabbit accosted by a pack of wolves, without actually venturing out in the woods, go visit the New Delhi railway station. And if you don’t like the jungle analogy, here’s another. Arriving at the New Delhi Railway station, without booking a registered cab is like being the Delhi CM – master of your own will, but helpless. You can cry hoarse saying “Sir, please don’t trouble us, we just want to go home,” but you won’t be spared by the mafia of cab hounds.

Expecting the Shatabdi to arrive Delhi on time, we did not book a cab to drop us home. Since nothing pretty much changes when it comes to railways, no points for guessing that the train arrived late. Yes, we could have booked a cab while in the train, but expecting achche din, like idiots, we succumb to the optimist in our head that says, “You are not alone. Any cab will drop you home.”

As soon as we emerge out of the station around midnight, a battalion of scruffy, smelly men accost us with a volley of, “Sir/Madam, taxi hogi? Kahan Jaana hai?” Suddenly, we are prey to the sundry members of the ‘Kaali-peeli’ cab tribe who menacingly play with their key chains in the index finger. One of them follows us with resolute doggedness, almost forcing us to surrender. “Gurgaon,” we say. “Fine, come with me,” he says. “No, thank you. We’ll take a pre-paid cab,” we say. “You won’t get a pre-paid cab to NCR at this hour,” he says. The moment we engage with him, his scruffy compatriots look at us with contempt. As if we’ve committed a crime by ignoring the rest of the pack. Even before the final amount is settled, this man takes our suitcase and hurriedly heads towards his cab. Now, unless you’ve won the steeple chase at school, you can’t jump across sleeping passengers and their luggage strewn around in a war zone.

Try to walk as fast as we can, we can’t match the lanky strides of the man with our suitcase. Moreover, only he knows where his vehicle is parked. Is it any surprise that when we reach his cab, heaving and panting, our suitcase is already shoved in his cab? Rather reluctantly we sit in the cab, kicking ourselves for not booking a registered cab. Once in the cab, an uncomfortable feeling envelops me and my husband. The cab reeks of cheap alcohol and the song playing on the radio does nothing to soothe our nerves. The driver begins to circle Connaught Place instead of driving us home. The man is polite, says nothing, but instinct nudges us to clamber out.

“Excuse me, what are you up to?” we ask. “Five minutes, I have to take CNG,” he mumbles. The long queue at the petrol station is a blessing. We open the door and get down the cab. “Give back our luggage,” we say. “We don’t want to travel with you.” The man is polite, but stubborn. “If you didn’t want to come with me, you should’ve said so earlier.” At which point we’ve had it. We pick our suitcase, get down and call a registered cab. While we wait at the petrol station much beyond midnight for our registered cab to arrive, the man stands across the road giving us an ominous stare.

There is no violence, no indecent act, no attack, no cheating, and yet the discomfort of going through this agony in the heart of the city makes you wonder if anything has changed in the past twenty years. Regardless whether Congress, BJP or AAP rule the city – chaos rules Delhi after midnight.

The Phantom Source - The Ghost Who Talks

Back in the eighties, there used be something called the ‘Foreign Hand’. On the political terra firma, every second riot or disturbance was attributed to this invisible ‘Foreign Hand’. Today, social media and phone cameras have ensured greater transparency. However, there is another entity that remains as elusive, as mysterious and as intangible as the ‘Foreign Hand’. In media parlance, it is called the ‘Source’. In Hindi language, we know it as the ‘Sutra’. Not the erotic Kama variety, but the esoteric media archetype. Such is the power of the source that we instinctively believe whatever comes, ‘Sutron Ke Hawale Se’. 

There are many ways to quote a source. ‘According to sources’ is one of them. ‘Reportedly’ is equally effective. As is ‘Sutron Ki Maane To’. Likewise, there are different kinds of sources. The source behind Bollywood grapevine is rather innocuous. It tells us how Ranbir Kapoor went down on his knees as Katrina Kaif rang in her 32nd birthday. How Anushka and Virat enjoyed at the ‘Sabi Sabi Earth Lodge’, a safari destination in South Africa. Or how Kat-Bir were spotted in the picturesque city of Prague, even though mama Neetu disapproved. Only a source can read mama Neetu’s mind. This gossip peddling variety ranges from celebrity drivers, fellow air travelers, avid fans, hotel staff and jealous contemporaries.

The political strain of the source is far more lethal. This is because for Phantom Source - The Ghost Who Walks, err Talks, with great power comes zero responsibility. Since the power invested in this source is invisible, he delivers a solid punch leaving a permanent ‘skull mark’ on those perceived as evil doers. Moreover, with no accountability, when a chain of pen wielding sources get linked to a mighty source called the politician, it can be deadly. Biased tongues, they say, can be worse than wicked hands.

Like Spiderman, the source can easily spurt malicious gooey liquid that allows media men to swing between two political buildings, climb political staircases and demolish reputations. With more and more media houses being owned by politicians, no points for guessing how unbiased the sources are. Because the purr in the ear often comes from a self-serving club of mutual back scratchers. 

Given that desperate times call for desperate sources, engineering students can also act as a Source. Whatever and whenever the nation wants to know - the source obliges. That Shashi Tharoor was pulled up by his boss for breaching party discipline was revealed by a source. That Mr. Tharoor was asked to stand outside the classroom with a finger on his lips, well, wasn’t exposed. And only the source knows if it was Arun Jaitley who revealed discomforting information about Sushma Swaraj?

Moreover, in the times of ephemeral news, unapologetic media and short public memory, who cares even if the source goofed up?
Not difficult to plant a doubt by placing a quaint little question mark towards the end, is it? Was Advani’s Emergency barb aimed at Modi? Did Amitabh demand crores to endorse a social campaign? The accused can cry hoarse by issuing endless clarifications, but the mission is accomplished. Bade araam se.

Finally, according to totally unreliable alcoholic sources, Mulayam is likely to be nominated for Nobel Peace for his well meaning ‘sudhar jao’ advice. Reportedly, ‘Selfie le le’, song from Bajrangi Bhaijaan is likely to win an Oscar in the music category. And Twinkle Khanna’s latest book is likely to fetch a Booker this year, sources say.
If anything sounds farfetched, simply add 'reportedly' in the beginning, or a question mark towards the end. Sab hazam ho zayega. 

Image Courtesy: www.comicvine.com

Ananda

Valley view in a drizzle

So we step into the month of July to celebrate decades of togetherness. Away from the concrete and glass of Gurgaon, and away from news and negativity of television, we want to surrender ourselves in the arms of nature. Our search for sublime serenity ends at Ananda, a spa destination, nestling in the very lap of Himalyan foothills.

The mountain air on the way is suffused with moist indolence as low clouds scud along the hills to caress the foliage. At Ananda, The Palace Estate of Narendranagar, a traditional arti with a ginger-lemon-honey infusion greets us with pleasant warmth. As I check in, I wonder: What is it that makes this place so special? I doubt if there is any one perfect answer. Several soft touches of quality, service and ambiance make Ananda memorable.One cant really define it, one has to feel it.

Although the main exterior building is not imposing, the spa on an hundred acre estate is indeed a soul sanctuary where traditional Ayurveda practices blend with international standards of well being. The celebrity testimonial by Oprah Winfrey, calling it ‘more like a pilgrimage than a visit’ is slightly over the top for someone staying for three nights, but a month long rejuvenating program for those with deep pockets can indeed be bliss.
Any stay is memorable only when there is great service. At Ananda everyone greets you with folded hands and a smiling Namaste. The Namaskar ritual is so ingrained that a gardener wearing a raincoat, tending to a plant in a drizzle will stand upright, fold hands and wish you with a warm Namaste. 

Dining Hall, Facilities and the Amphitheater

Depending on the package, you can enjoy the spa experience which is the highlight of Ananda. I am not a spa person, but after the Swedish massage by a young Tibetan girl, I am wondering why I stayed away from this luxury. A range of massage experience is available, each addressing a specific aspect of mental and physical well being. The Ayurveda experience is designed keeping in mind the individual’s desire to heal, cleanse, relax and revitalize. 

Other than the spa experience and the service, the most remarkable feature of my stay is the delightful interplay between the low moist clouds and the verdant foliage. The place epitomizes the kinship between serenity and nature. Whether it is a Blue Jay swishing past or a peacock dancing in all its mating glory, it is the effusive charm of nature that is casting a spell. 

On a vacation, Indians always look for good food.The buffet breakfast welcomes me with tulsi water which is such a refreshing drink that I decide to incorporate in my daily life. But beyond simple soups, juices and sprouts, the chefs stay away from playing with the local raw produce. Given the focus on health, the food is different from what is dished out at other outstanding restaurants. For me, the food experience is on the lowest rung when compared to the spa and beauty of the place.

Finally, all good hotels tend to make people do what they don’t do at home. So, yes I wear a crisp white kurta pyjama, eat sprouts and meditate. If rejuvenation was the purpose of this visit, the purpose is served admirably. 

Tips:

To reach Ananda, you can take the Dehradoon Shatabdi or a flight to the Jolly Grant Airport, Dehradoon. The transport desk sends a pick up car but you can hire local cab at half the price.
The place does not welcome kids which makes sense once you visit the spa. The food is expensive so carry some ready made snacks for hunger pangs in between meals.
The valley view rooms on higher floors are recommended over the garden view rooms, only if the weather is clear. We shelled out extra for the valley view room but witnessed the twinkling valley along the meandering Ganges only for a few minutes.
Avoid carrying several clothes as Ananda provides you with a fresh set of white unisex kurta pyjama. These are not complimentary. The temperature is almost similar to the valley as Ananda is not at a great height.
Avoid going in the monsoon season, as you miss outdoor activities like trekking, river rafting and temple visits. 

(This is NOT a review.)