I have been in a decompression chamber since arriving in Delhi; learning that night is day and day is night. I find myself suddenly awake at one in the morning and hungry for supper, or nodding of at 8 in the morning over my morning coffee. As Jill, speaking from years of experience, said, ‘just take a few days and arrive. After all you go back in time coming to India.’
Ekta Parishad has a third floor office in the Janpura Extension, an area of New Delhi near Nizamudeen Station and the Bhogel (or Thieves’) Market. It also doubles as a living space. When I was met at the new terminal, it was by Jill and Rajaji (who had just come down with a viral fever). Both were living in the back room of the office. Ramesh Sharma was also staying here and so, since the place was full, I was put in a room across the Market in the West End Guest Home. That is where I have been waking up at three in the morning suddenly expecting supper and generally decompressing from the time change.
I
have not run into any thieves yet but have enjoyed watching the street awake and wind down at night from my window. It is hard to describe--so much takes place out on the street here ( as opposed to inside the houses)--a jumble of living and working and playing. Animal, vegetable and mineral in a lively kaleidoscope. The vegetable seller walks up and down with his cart of produce and distinctive chanting call. Four young men are sitting on the sidewalk and with a hammer and tongs, rhythmically breaking off pieces from some kind of mysterious metal plating. Saried women are everywhere sweeping up the nights’ refuse, hanging wash, shooing neatly uniformed children off to school. Two young men are carefully washing a new car on a street that is mostly rutted with mud and rickshaws and piles of abandoned bricks. And dogs. It is a wonderful jumble of the life and its smells that is urban India.During the days, I have been happily following Jill around on various sorties in networking and advocacy work, uptown and downtown. Yesterday we went to India’s famous ITT campus (a bit like MIT) to visit Prof. U
padhyay, an economist involved in publishing the annual “Alternative Economic Report”. We had a nice tea and chat about the alternative economic possibilities and families. Today we went south of Delhi into the so-called industrial area of Hockla (?) driving with a man called Arvind, who knew another man called Arun, who runs a large PR firm with an office in the area. Arvind believed that Arun could help EP with its PR preparation for the march in 2012. The industrial area has become something quite other than was originally envisaged; there are factories (proudly acknowledging that they have no child labour), but there are small shack-like houses, working spaces and offices scattered along the almost impassable mud roads.Our meeting unfolded slowly and unexpectedly in what I now have come to think of as a typical Indian fashion. Arun’s BMW broke down and he had to wait for them to pick him up, and he called to give us progress reports on his progress. So we met for several hours with two younger staffers, highly professional ad-men and asked for their advice (all of which was very good). Our friend Arvind eventually had to leave, but we were urged to wait for Arun himself and treated to many coffees and lunch at his desk by his staff.
Arun a
rrived with a flourish and much charm and we had an hour of his undivided attention and advice. Clear, decisive ideas about what should be done and a real nobility of spirit. Jill spoke to him at length about Ekta, Rajagopal and her own life while Arun himself decided to drive us all the way back to the Thieves’ Market, noting how rare it was for him to meet people who are working for a social justice cause.As I come out of the decompression chamber this is all quite a wonderful reintroduction to the India I am coming to know: above all, this large- and warm-heartedness for what is noble and good. A kind of spontaneous generosity that is beyond expectations. I am sure there is the other, darker side about as well, and no doubt many thieves, but I have not run into them yet.
Rajaji has gone off to Kerala with his viral fever to an event he just could not miss (which is the only kind of event he attends) Jill and I will travel to Bhopal on Sunday morning.
