Me+Weekend+Mum+Delhi=DISASTER

Medical Tourism is on high roll these days.  We were no expectation, so my mum is sick and we had packed our bags to set trails to Apollo. To be honest, my mum is a kind of a cranky and complaining woman. And when i say this, half of the Indian population gets a chance to relate such features for their mother. 

Day1: Ghy-Delhi, Jasola We landed at exactly 6:40pm and Uber was the most convenient option in hand. On our way to our hotel, the journey which was 22kms away from the Airport Terminal, in a place called Jasola was meant to be peaceful was basically split down into two of my mum's primitive complains... 'there's so much of crowd and traffic’ and 'why is the place so lonely, i don't trust the driver'. Now i have no idea how many number of ’Crime Patrol' episode is enough to implant the basic idea of rape in their minds.

Anyway, First Night at the hotel, Hotel Kundan Palace, Believe me  when i say this, If rape issues and being sexually abused doesn't scare u, the water will definitely scare the living shit outta you. It basically is the only thing that will be a major cause for your mutation. Delhi what's next, You learn to crawl walls? the salty taste of it, even the idea of it is hard to gulp down.  Now imagine the next morning brush session.

Day 2: Jasola Apollo,Jasola:The next day was mostly spent among the sick and the sickness,  Apollo Hospital, The place we stayed, was nearby the hospital for the  sake of convenience. In the course of time I saw many foreigners in the same floor as ours,which was amazing.  You do remember the concept of Medical Tourism right? otherwise why would they settle for a place like Jasola, where the only point of attraction is a Fat Bihari guy selling ‘garam garam jalebi’.

This is my effort for an extention to significantly define what kind of the place is Jasola.  The setting is of somewhat an old village,narrow lanes,women peeping over the balcony, as if every other guy was born with the sole intention of judging you.Although the people of Jasola don’t restrict themselves from having thrills in their lives. They have this public vehicle,Imagine a motorcycle and a rickshaw going to a sick-ass party, they eventually get drunk and get laid,what you get after 9 months is called a ‘Tuk Tuk’. Imagine Mad-Max series,coming to life,where people as savages compete each other over the dusty tracks of Delhi,In vehicles which runs over batteries, because let’s be honest,Delhi is concerned about population… Did I say population? I certainly meant pollution…

The day 2 ended with me accompanying mum with the 'Shopping for family' session. Did i mention my mother is sick, and it’s difficult for her to walk? We took a metro from Jasola to LajpatNagar, which is apparently 5-6 stations away.We meet all sort of people in Metro, maybe one morning, you get to encounter a person,by the evening he is flashed into breaking news as a serial killer. So basically it is a land of opportunities.In my case I met the worst type of body shammer in the history, if someone body shams you over your facebook wall,you will still consider yourself lucky, because I got body shammed inside a Metro, by two “who-the-fucks”. It started from the person, who looked around his 30s, left me a seat. Now as a courtesy I smiled to him as a sign of  gratitude,that was the point it all started… “Bhai aap na bohot jyada mote ho, kuch karo iss charbi ka, Mujhe dekho, Lagta nai hu, par mein do laundo ka baap hu…” the opinion of the stranger was seconded by the old fella sitting next to him giving one word opinion from his side, “Kasraat”:the secret behind his ripped abs. Towards the end he just says out loud, “Bhai, Saandh ko na, laundiya nai milti”,that was the point where the two passengers sitting opposite to me break into laughter. Metro ride sure is a lot of fun. In Lajpatnagar my mother,she revolved the whole market, four freaking times. In the streets of Lajpatnagar, there are old folks, who yell out and address the passersby to check out their stall for once. I especially noticed this one guy, mid 60s, sitting just outside his own stall, addressed my mum for the first time, "Behenji, aa jao, bohot samaan he", on the second time around his same stall, the words were somewhat identical, "Behenji, ek baar ghus jaeye, saare samaan he humare paas". By the time we revolved the third time, he just said "arey behenji, iss baar toh ghus jao".

Day 3:Jasola to Central Secretariat:I was to meet a friend of mine in Central Secretariat which was around 30mins away from our hotel. Fare is around 36 rupees. Since the guy was coming along with his girlfriend, I insisted my mother on staying back over Bus-Stand. So I met him at Gate 2. By the time I returned, I saw a lady, over the Bus-Stand, weeping and complaining about how I left a helpless woman in an unknown place like Delhi. I tell you this, nothing is as humiliating as standing there as some decorated abusive son, who literally tortured his sick mother. Well that’s what the other people over there interpreted the event as.

We then took a Metro, following the Yellow line to the Chandni Chowk. Wow, that place, it’s like all the hells are set loose. The rush there is unparallel to anything I have witnessed so far, And the worst part, it was still Saturday. The streets of Chandni Chowk, is flooded with cars, rickshaws, people, and whatnot. Evidently within the distance from Metro Station to Red Fort(around 600-700m), our rickshaw hit two people and was rammed constantly by the rickshaw behind us just to give us a head-start. Now Delhi can’t afford paragliding or skiing, or trekking for a change, but if you wanna risk everything, hire a rickshaw and whisper these three magical words to them, “Bhaiya, Jaldi Karo”… The defining moment of your life is just an inch away. From Chandni Chowk we went to Sarojini Nagar Market, via INA Metro Station. The market was recommended by a person, Amlan(Fuck you Amlan).
If you ever wondered what exactly a hostile marketing strategy is, I strongly recommend you to visit Sarojini Market, a place where 'no' is not an option they consider. As soon as we reached the market, i was surrounded by a 3 member gang, whose sole intention was to sell me socks,shades and wallet, all at once. Unfortunately, they weren't there for a 'no'... One of the guy asked me to remove my glasses and as i did, he just tossed one of his many shades saying, "Dekho bhai, kya jach raha he..." when i refused the offer, he misinterpreted it as a bargain and started lowering his price. At one point i said,"Bhaiya, mujhe nai chahiye",to that he replied, "Kese nai chahiye, free ka hota toh zaroor leke jaate". 

Day 4:Jasola to Airport: The flight timing was at 1340 hours. But my mother lived with the idea of, “Better reach before than to be Late”. In this situation, ‘before’ meant 3 hours roughly.Inside the Airport, 3 hours is a long stretch, so eventually my mother got tired and sleepy and asked for a coffee.NOTE:Give your mother anything but an espresso. Imagine a complaining women, who is complaining about her coffee for the next two hours and ten mins because she can’t sleep after that strong ‘shot’ of caffeine. That’s certainly not a good picture.

Here I am back to Guwahati again. If I say that my weekend at Delhi was ‘good’, that would be an oversimplification of the series of events. I won’t term it ‘bad’ either. It just insisted me enough to draft a slot over my blog.

Chandni Chowk,Old Delhi