Photo by Susmita ChatterjiWe arrived in New Delhi in January when the weather was still mild, and the three of us had to adapt to a new school: The British School.
Mom and dad quickly became friends with the ANC representatives in New Delhi: Aggie, Mosie and Zubie. We got to know the Msimang kids and my brothers became firm friends with Fabian.
When you teased Fabian he didn't laugh, he just smiled, stood up straight, feet planted slightly apart, and looked right back at you with a fist under each bicep.
The twins were 13 and more adventurous than I. With our parents' approval, they travelled with Fabian all over town. Fabian knew the ropes and they tried all the different kinds of street food together without falling ill.
But the twins were a bit girlish; their voices hadn't broken and their long hair was turning from light brown to straw blond in the sun, so Fabian found himself protecting them from the seedy, bottom pinching men that there always are on crowded buses. He probably stared them down too - smiling.
How difficult it is to make sense of the world and your place in it when you are 15. On the bus Nicola, a young Italian who looked a little like Sophia Loren, pointed at me and said loudly: "
'I'm not going to sit next to him.' and I thought: Why does she make such a fuss?" and Why am I so embarrassed?
Moving to New Delhi from Nairobi made growing up even more complicated. During my first few months in India I just stared out of windows - I was passively absorbed with the challenge of comprehending where the the hell I was:
Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab, Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna. Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna. Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna.
By late June it was so hot that after school we rarely went out at all. We stayed at home keeping to our air conditioned rooms. To get cool, our pie dog plastered his hairy body against the air vents, bared his teeth and panted wolfishly. Perhaps one of the most familiar sensations for anyone living in northern India during the summer, is the unpleasantness of having to move constantly between refrigerated spaces. I would open my bedroom door, cross four feet of rippling heat haze, then re-enter the deep freeze of another bedroom. Lots of people catch colds this way.
There was the promise of a trip to the hills. As soon as Mom and Dad finished writing up their reports on Kerela and Bihar off we would go. The choice was of Simla or Nainital and they chose Nainital, because it was closer, only 300 kilometres away via Meerut, and because the journey looked more interesting. And because they had read The Man Eaters of Kumaon.
We got up early, two hours before dusk, and drove off in Padma, our long wheel base Landrover, but the heat caught up with us shortly after dawn. We were submerged in it. Dad accelerated towards the hills as the sun rose higher and the rubber wheels hummed against the rough asphalt.
Towards late afternoon, the countryside slowly emptied of people and the vehicle started to climb. We reached pine forest at about 3 pm. The trees were ash-brown closer to the plain, but greened as we rose.
Mom and Dad had chosen the route which bordered the Jim Corbett National Park and the road was dangerous. It hadn't been repaired since the last monsoon. We were negotiating a curving track that was barely wider than the Landrover itself and from back right hand side window all we could see was the bouncing horizon.
In front, and on the left, we saw evidence of rock falls and mom got increasingly nervous. Then we came to a place where part of the road had actually fallen away. It seemed impassable. But the thought that we would have to return to the heat of the plain made dad determined and it was now about 6.00 and night was approaching.
We got out. Dad engaged 4 wheel drive and revved forwards, The Landrover's front wheels tilted in the dip, the car righted itself. The back wheels and back of the car tilted right. Then the vehicle was level again, and on the other side of the broken track.
After about 40 minutes more, we saw lake Nainital as the light fell. It was far down in the valley. The lake looked a little like a damm and at the far end it seemed to be tipping a trickle of its dark waters into air.
It took us some time to get to the hotel and it was night when we arrived. We stopped and got out and smelled woodsmoke. It was large and form the time of the colony, and mostly made of wood and we were among the only guests there.
By now it was dark, and we found a restaurant where we ordered sandwiches and It was actually cold enough to wear the soft woollen jerseys mom had brought. They were playing billiards in the restaurant and so we played too, and I can still hear the clicks of the balls and see the green baize. With the sandwiches they served us tea sweetened with condensed milk.
The following day we rested, but in the afternoon my brothers and I heard music. We found a concert hall where inside they were playing rocky Bob Dylan covers. The band was called Waterfront. They were playing to an empty hall. The three of us sat down there to listen to them.
For five days we ate together, walked through the forest and My brothers and I listened to the band and as we did so all the heat and confusion seeped out of us and little by little we came to a halt. The hotel was empty, the concert hall was empty the hill station was empty and we too soon emptied. Our bodies, minds and souls stilled right down into...
Shanti, Shanti, Shanti
Moving to New Delhi from Nairobi made growing up even more complicated. During my first few months in India I just stared out of windows - I was passively absorbed with the challenge of comprehending where the the hell I was:
Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab, Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna. Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna. Lajpat Nagar, Safdarjung, Quatab Minar, Chandigarh, Maharani Bagh, Jamna.
By late June it was so hot that after school we rarely went out at all. We stayed at home keeping to our air conditioned rooms. To get cool, our pie dog plastered his hairy body against the air vents, bared his teeth and panted wolfishly. Perhaps one of the most familiar sensations for anyone living in northern India during the summer, is the unpleasantness of having to move constantly between refrigerated spaces. I would open my bedroom door, cross four feet of rippling heat haze, then re-enter the deep freeze of another bedroom. Lots of people catch colds this way.
There was the promise of a trip to the hills. As soon as Mom and Dad finished writing up their reports on Kerela and Bihar off we would go. The choice was of Simla or Nainital and they chose Nainital, because it was closer, only 300 kilometres away via Meerut, and because the journey looked more interesting. And because they had read The Man Eaters of Kumaon.
We got up early, two hours before dusk, and drove off in Padma, our long wheel base Landrover, but the heat caught up with us shortly after dawn. We were submerged in it. Dad accelerated towards the hills as the sun rose higher and the rubber wheels hummed against the rough asphalt.
Towards late afternoon, the countryside slowly emptied of people and the vehicle started to climb. We reached pine forest at about 3 pm. The trees were ash-brown closer to the plain, but greened as we rose.
Mom and Dad had chosen the route which bordered the Jim Corbett National Park and the road was dangerous. It hadn't been repaired since the last monsoon. We were negotiating a curving track that was barely wider than the Landrover itself and from back right hand side window all we could see was the bouncing horizon.
In front, and on the left, we saw evidence of rock falls and mom got increasingly nervous. Then we came to a place where part of the road had actually fallen away. It seemed impassable. But the thought that we would have to return to the heat of the plain made dad determined and it was now about 6.00 and night was approaching.
We got out. Dad engaged 4 wheel drive and revved forwards, The Landrover's front wheels tilted in the dip, the car righted itself. The back wheels and back of the car tilted right. Then the vehicle was level again, and on the other side of the broken track.
After about 40 minutes more, we saw lake Nainital as the light fell. It was far down in the valley. The lake looked a little like a damm and at the far end it seemed to be tipping a trickle of its dark waters into air.
It took us some time to get to the hotel and it was night when we arrived. We stopped and got out and smelled woodsmoke. It was large and form the time of the colony, and mostly made of wood and we were among the only guests there.
By now it was dark, and we found a restaurant where we ordered sandwiches and It was actually cold enough to wear the soft woollen jerseys mom had brought. They were playing billiards in the restaurant and so we played too, and I can still hear the clicks of the balls and see the green baize. With the sandwiches they served us tea sweetened with condensed milk.
The following day we rested, but in the afternoon my brothers and I heard music. We found a concert hall where inside they were playing rocky Bob Dylan covers. The band was called Waterfront. They were playing to an empty hall. The three of us sat down there to listen to them.
For five days we ate together, walked through the forest and My brothers and I listened to the band and as we did so all the heat and confusion seeped out of us and little by little we came to a halt. The hotel was empty, the concert hall was empty the hill station was empty and we too soon emptied. Our bodies, minds and souls stilled right down into...
Shanti, Shanti, Shanti
Hey
ReplyDeleteThanks for providing link to my blog and felt good when I saw you used my photo at the top of your blog post with my name mentioned.
Thanks buddy.
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ReplyDeleteSchools in Nainital | Engineering Colleges in Nainital | MBA Colleges in Nainital and many other educational resource.
My pleasure, what a beautiful photograph.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the resources anonymous