Domain Maximus

Over the last few weeks many people have asked us why we chose, of all the places in Delhi, to live in Dwarka. Isn’t it boring? Are there any restaurants? What do you do for coffee or IIT coaching? What do you do with the money you save on rent?

And we say:

1. No it is not. We have old men who come outside our window every morning and do laughing yoga. I have never had better digestion in my life.

2. There are tons of restaurants. KFC, Bercos, Moti Mahal, Colonels Kababz and, most of all, KFC.

3. There is a Costa right across the road from an Akaash Institute.

4. I buy Blackberrys. The missus buys blankets. We have two of the former and thirty-seven of the latter. Apparently blankets are a Delhi thing. The in-laws gift us three or four every weekend. We have no idea where they keep them. My ’study and writing room’ is now mostly a ‘blanket and knitted goods room with laptop.’

But the single most important reason we have moved to Dwarka is for the cultural scene. Surprised? Don’t be. Peruse below the poster of one such cultural phenomenon snapped by the missus at Dwarka Sector 5 market, near the ICICI bank on Saturday. Watch in wonder. Also weep:

Faaaahhhhhhn Claaaahhhhhb

I particularly like those spectacles.

Those two heads at the bottom, if you are wondering, are the national chairman and the Delhi chairman of the fan club.

P.s. I do not mean to mock Kumar Sanu or his fans. That man was truly a bollywood phenomenon in his time.

P.s.s. But then so was Mamta Kulkarni. I am just saying.

Yes, yes I have finally moved bag, baggage and missus to Delhi and have spent the better part of the last week sneezing in our flat in Dwarka. (Thinking of the mammoth savings in rent I make here compared to my place in Wadala is somewhat comforting.)

But before I launch into blogging-as-usual-from-Delhi I must drop a line about an interesting incident that happened on the Metro a few days ago.

So there I am with the in-laws and the missus on the blue line from Connaught Place to Dwarka. The train is crowd-less but there aren’t any seats free. Somewhere mid-way, after Rajouri Garden I think, the mom-in-law gets a seat. She is wedged in between a Japanese mum with a PSP-clicking child, and a couple of African guys.

One of the African guys get up, my dad-in-law ushers the missus towards the empty seat. But before she can sit the African guy mumbles something and and scrambles his way back to the seat. The dad-in-law is very miffed and begins to say something when we calm him down and tell him to let it go.

Someone mumbles something about “better not take pangas” with “these African types”.

There is much wrathful eyeballing happening all around till both men get up just before Nawadah. Both the missus and dad-in-law take their place. I still stand. One of the guys comes over and says: “I give the old man a seat but he give it to that young woman. Young woman can stand. I want him to sit because he is old. In our country we respect old people.”

He sounds half-offended when he speaks.

I tell him that we respect old people in our country too.

Soon, but of course, we begin talking about India and Nigeria, which is where they are from. “Some things about India we like. Some things we don’t,” they say honestly when I ask them about living here. Turns out both guys are professional footballers with the Ruia Royals, a football team in the local Delhi league. (Anyone who can throw light on this please do. I could’nt Google up anything.) Both of them live in Nawadah and they were just back from a match.

When their station came we shook hands, patted backs, traded smiles and then they were off.

“These African types” were actually very nice people indeed.

I felt very, very sheepish after the whole incident.

Regular nonsense postings will resume from this weekend. Have a fantastic 2009 everyone!