Midnight Strolls

Having recently shifted to yet another address in this city, I find myself having the opportunity of going out for long ambling strolls in the night, unfearful of the dark or the dangers that habitually lurk within it, in Delhi.

Walking seems to be one of the recent habits I've picked up, not having been much for physical exercise before. And Indeed, I do not walk for my health, but to think and reflect.



I now live at Raksha Bhawan, smack in the middle of the line joining India Gate and the Indian President's Estate. Going by the norm, it is one of the poshest areas in the country's capital, and it does live up to that image. Mostly.




I go for walks around India Gate's lawns and the other heritage-like buildings that dot the area. Starting out of my house after about 10 in the night, I often stay out till 0030 or so. As the hour grows later, a kind of peace seems to descend from the air. To be frank, I guess I go out for this feeling.





But India Gate at night, isn't vastly different from India Gate by day. The crowds are almost the same. Crying babies, happy families playing on the lawns, couples taking quiet walks away from the bustle of seething humanity, Police PCR vans patrolling and making sure the visitors from overseas aren't hassled too much.

A good many people taking photographs of the imperious monument even after the night-time shutdown of the huge banks of stage lights, the innumerable masses of vendors selling everything from stuffed toys to ice-cream.

In the 8 years or so that I've lived in this city, India Gate's environs haven't changed that much. In the evenings, as night throws her blanket of darness over the scorching day of the famed Indian Summer, the only new thing visible in these Central Parks of Delhi, are a new brand of ice-cream being sold, and a few flashy battery-powered devices emitting a kaleidoscope of colors, to attract the young ones.


And yet, when you visit the place for a week, everyday, you start to see things that were rendered invisible by the novelty of the attraction. The Police smoke beedis in their PCR vans, the ice-cream vendors and snack-marketers puff away great clouds of smoke, and the famous India Gate Boating Club is hosted in a pond filled with filth (no pun intended).




Yes, the ponds are really dirty. In an image I took a few nights before, an entire corner of the shallow pit of the water body is choked with plastic bags and bits of unidentifiable rotting mass. And this just next to a high-pressure Gas Pipeline. When I was trying to find a good angle for the snap, in the dim light, a few local tough-guys came around to ask me what I thought I was doing. Not wanting a confrontation, I blithely told them that I was looking for a good spot to hold a photo shoot for the Youth Chronicler (which is a figment of my imagination, in case you were wondering).

Thus having escaped the clutches of misguided vigilantism, I then proceeded to look around the whole place with a bit more of perception. There are trash cans overflowing, vagrants sleeping under trees, and young men on bikes performing stunts that I thought were crazy and suicidal.

You often see drunkards at India Gate. While I was not foolish enough to try to film the antics of one particular duo of boys (they seemed to be about 15-16 years of age), their ambulatory motions and unbound speech shall remain engraved in my memory for some time to come.

This particular, peculiar couple, named Jay and Ajay, from what I could gather, had had enough to have considerable difficulty walking. They achieved this otherwise indomitable task by literally hanging on to each other. Thus supported, they managed to walk an entire five meters in about fifteen minutes, yelling, screeching abuses and singing (somehow all at once) all the time.

While I was highly amused (and secretly sad at this sort of display for ones so young), the real kicker didn't come up untill both of them tumbled onto each other and lay panting and making other sorts of weird noises. Then, Jay I think, proceeded to take out a mobile phone ( a nokia N73, if I wasn't mistaken) and dial a number. When the person on the other end turned out to be a male, instead of the girlfriend he was expecting, he yelled and said a good many things I was hard-pressed to understand. This sort of thing went on for a minute of two. The person at the other end of the phone (the conversation was on speakerphone, with the volume turned to ful) kept trying to fugure out just who was calling.

After about 5 minutes, it turned out that Master Jay, in his hurry to profess his love to his girlfriend, has instead held his heart (and his rather admirable store of invective) out to the poor lady's elder brother.

Now, this seemed to sober Jay a little. Meanwhile, Ajay had been lolling about the place, trying to sit up, and generally failing to do so for more than fifteen seconds at a stretch. When Jay tried to help him up, presumably to lead his now less sober companion home, Ajay promptly kissed him. Screaming as if he'd been bitten, Jay then started to run away from his hitherto beloved companion. Ajay wouldn't let his lady-love go, so there proceeded yet another scuffle, which let Jay's short spell of clear-headedness pass, and the two then slumped back on the kerb.

I then left these two to their devices, not wanting to disturb their privacy further.

Apart from this interesting incident, my stroll that night was mostly peacefull, except for the omni-present mosquitos.



India Gate is a wonder. Even in the night. Even with not many rules being followed, there is virtually no crime, not even indecent behaviour towards others.

In short, it is an ideal place for me to go walking in the dead of the night, and feel good about it. I shall go again tonight. Hope you can experience the same pleasure sometime.