Episode 2

As soon as we got off the train, our eyes fell upon an unkempt looking man with a long beard and even longer hair.

“In six months, magha, we won’t be able to recognize you. You’ll probably be like him”
said Gupta to Rakesh, pointing to the bearded wonder. (How can anyone translate the word ‘magha’? The term of endearment is only rivaled by ‘machan’ in Tamil. The word ‘mate’ doesn’t even come close). Rakesh seemed excited by the prospect.

We started bargaining with the auto rickshaw drivers outside the station to take us to Pahar Ganj, as our bible Lonely Planet had recommended it as an area where we could find cheap accommodation. The drivers kept telling us that they knew sastha hotels in other areas but we put our foot down. So, Pahar Ganj it was.

We didn’t know it then, but Pahar Ganj is what people would classify as a ‘dodgy’ (wink! wink!) locality. Considering the front of the auto was filled with stickers of gods and goddesses, I wonder what the auto-driver thought of us. It appeared that he became more talkative after we told him that Gupta had to write an exam.

“Oh! Paper dhenai hain?” he asked, in a perceptibly changed tone which seemed to exonerate and accept us as ‘good clean’ boys.

If not for offending Gupta, I would have probably said, “Yes, but it’s a foregone conclusion. A hopeless case.” (After the results were announced a month later, Rakesh said very comfortingly to Gupta that he hadn’t passed because he was too good for the institute).

As we rode through the heart of our national capital, our conversation varied. Right from the morbid thought of being mowed down by Delhi’s notorious buses to the best way to nick a brochure from a five-star hotel, we discussed everything. The answer to the five star question being “Tell the receptionist your uncle from Singapore is visiting India soon and would like to know the tariffs”. This is of course a tried and tested method and never fails to impress.

We entered Pahar Ganj and the auto driver negotiated a maze of streets before finally dropping us off at the rather suspiciously named Hotel Anand. I have no doubt that the driver had an arrangement with the owner and took his ‘cut’. To us, that seemed like a fair arrangement as long as everyone got his due share of ‘Anand’.

We registered rather hurriedly and without checking the colour of the water in the rooms above (which turned out to be a healthy yellow).After daring to freshen up, we had lunch at a Dhaba nearby, thoroughly enjoying every aspect of its filthiness, as we assumed all seasoned travellers would. Rakesh and I abandoned Gupta, for he had to ‘study’, and ventured out bravely to explore Delhi.