Dilli Diary · Musings

Museum Culture

On the weekend, we visited the ‘Walking through the songline‘ exhibit at Kiran Nadar Museum. We found the museum and the exhibit 3-4 weeks back but did not have enough time for the emersive experience so decided to come back later. Unlike the quiet space with interested patrons, staff enthusiastically helping, chitchatting about the exhibit, we found crushing crowds, staff busy keeping people in single line, pushing through exhibits, somewhat like the 1 second darshan at Tirupati Balaji.

This kind of interactive and emersive installation cannot provide a good experience with heavy, crushing crowds. But in a crowded country like India, what is the alternative if you want a museum to be freely accesible for everyboady?

It was extremely noisy to the point where we could not hear the audio paired with the installations. Some of the screens had a pair of wired headphones which helped. It was perplexing though that hardly anybody was interested in the headphones or fighting over them.

I wondered if the noise was due to the sheer number of people or because the objective of the visitors were different and contradictory to each other and the space. Most thought of the installations as background decoration creating an ambience through which they could walk in packs, chitchatting about things unrelated to the subject of the museum. A lot of duckface and selfies even in front of the videos. People just walked in and out of the rooms playing 10 minute videos. Was it because 10 minutes was much longer than they were used to, in comparison to the social media reels? The cinematography was so beautiful. Even if you did not understand the language or were not interested in the content, the visuals of the landscape were mesmerizing. It still did not seem to keep viewers in place for 10 minutes. Not out of interest, nor courtesy to others watching intently.

We reminisced later about the crowded Metropolitan museum or other more emersive experiences in NYC, rest of the US, Canada, and Sweden that we have experienced. It did not feel the same way even on crowded days. Although, may be the space to people ratio yesterday was nothing like I have ever seen before. Last time we were at the Metropolitan, I remember seeing long queues outside the museum as they tried to maintain certain number of people inside.

We also talked about culture of going to the museums. Our friends from NYC talked about going to the museum as a kid. Growing up for us, this was unheard of. We started visiting the museums as adults. I remeber Parag getting bored in the Guggenheim. He has developed the interest and patience after a variety of such experiences.

Parag thought they should not allow very young children, which I think is counterproductive and not fair. If they do not experience it as a child, how can they appreciate it as an adult. The problem I think was the adults not actively interested, engaged in guiding their children through the exhibit. When a child looking at an aboriginal woman commented, ‘look at her fat lips’, instead of using it as a teaching moment, the adult with them turned their back at the screen and took a selfie of the spectacle. The aboriginal woman was narrating the place of the seven sister songline for her people. That was completely lost.

As I thought all this, I wondered, who am I to decide how an interactive, emmersive exhibit should be experienced. When I feel people need to be educated about experiencing an exhibit like this, am I being elitist? Does the team that designed it have a say?

Dilli Diary · Musings

Election time

Yesterday Delhi voted for their Loksabha candidate in phase 6. We managed to vote around 7:30am. We did not manage to move our name from North Delhi to South Delhi in time so our polling station was close to our old house, an hour drive away. It was too hot already at 8am. Not many people out to vote yet. Would have been earlier if people helping were not giving wrong information. Started with a voter coming out of a polling station gave me directions to the wrong school. Found the correct school. We had our booth and voter numbers ready, downloaded from the election commission website. But people inside the polling station were not trained to handle that so they were insisting I get a ‘parchi’. Then they insisted they will look through the entire list they had one name at a time. Sigh

It is not so difficult to find your booth and voter group number online if you have the EPIC number on the voter id card. Most people came there with their mobiles. If they knew how to find the booth number, the lines at the info counter would have been shorter. More information needs to be provided, a day before so people can come prepared. And then the people outside the booth need to be trained to handle this info, instead of looking it up one by one in the unending bundles of lists.

Last time I stood near the party tables telling people how to look at their records online. At peak hours it really helped cut down wait time. It is such a simple thing. Why are no parties or the election commission advertising it? Just a few lines added to the robo calls I got in the last 2 days would have helped.  

Parag had the same experience at the polling station he went to. But at his polling station, the people spreading misinformation were the citizens standing in the line. They sent 4 elderly people back asking them to get parachi when they already had their booth numbers. Today I talked with Somavati. She did not vote in South Delhi. They sent her back because she did not have ‘parchi’ She was devastated. She was skeptical to start with as she hadn’t received a ‘parchi’ this time or in last 2-3 years so her name was surely removed for some reason she thought. Had to explain that last election happened 5 years back. She remembered voting in that election.

Last time, I saw similar things outside Malikpur polling station. People dejected because they didn’t have ‘parchi’ and did not know if they had a right to vote. I stood outside the polling station helping people to find their name and polling booth online on the election commission website. I feel sad that I did not do something similar near our new place of residence this year.

The voter turn out was really low around 57% for Delhi. It is really sad. The heat wave is one of the culprits but so is this cumbersome process of finding polling station, booth etc. May be I can start something near my new home to create awareness a few days before the next election.

Dilli Diary · Musings

The International Book Fair

Yesterday we spent the whole day at the international book fair. It was heartening to see people from all ages and all walks of life engrossed in browsing and buying books. A lot of selfie points everywhere. People jostling to take ‘we were here’ photos. A lot of selfie points everywhere. People jostling to take photos with their kids. The Kashmir and Ladakh exhibit seemed popular for selfies rather than the display, unfortunately.

The exhibit was well done with respect to the information and the quality of display.
Would have been better off without the moving spotlights though

But then we also saw parents flocking to the children’s books section with their kids, young people’s excited chitchat about books they found, during our lunch break, we saw a kid browsing the book they bought.

People were also engaging with the interactive activities some stalls had set up as well as with street plays, and formal discussion forums. The interactive wall outside a stall got a lot of action. Many interesting quotes, names of books that changed people’s lives, with the usual spattering of ‘I love Madhu’

I was surprised to see pavillions from other countries. UAE and Turkey made a commendable effort to make it educational. Iran had books for sale. We got 2 about India during the British Raj. Very interesting to read about historical events from their perspective.

The author’s pavillion had interesting panels depicting timeline of major literary works as well as bios of well known authors and linguists.

This was the only place the multilingual India was visible in addition to the decorative posters. The books or stalls of other languages were missing. Although, there was a lot of advertising about Bahubhashi Bharat everywhere, the collection did not quite reflect it.
It was more of a selfie point. I hope this sentiment is actually put in practice.

Got excited to see Motilal Banarsidas.
There was a time when we frequented International book store on Deccan to source their books, which were not always easy to get.
Scored a book on Syadvad and relativity, something I was looking for a long time.

Dilli Diary

Chance Finds: जाते थे जापान पहुंच गये चीन

The Saturday outing to IARI Pusa campus yesterday turned out to be a bust. The idea was to visit their biomass utilisation unit to get some vermicompost, leaf-compost, and whatever else they could offer. Turns out the campus staff recently negotiated a 5 day week that was put in practice today. facepalm
That meant the entire afternoon/evening plans just suddenly evaporated. No compost, no seeds, no visit to their fresh produce store, no wandering in the campus enjoying the greenery.

Decided to salvage the day by visiting barafkhana area for seedlings. The 7 kms took more than 2-3 hrs due to a traffic jam. It became so ridiculous at a point that, for the sake of our sanity, we decided to stop at this quirky cafe set up in a double decker bus.

By the time we got to barafkhana, hurriedly bought last remnants of the seedlings before everything closed, and started back the journey home, it was sundown. On the way back we hit traffic again. Of course… what were we thinking. This time the shops in front of a Kalibadi caught our attention. We had no idea where we were. Had never been to this temple, so decided to check it out and may be make a meal out of the stop.

The temple and the huge pandal in front of it was bustling with festive energy. The Durga idols were closed to viewing with a curtain. Everybody was waiting expectantly. The main temple has a beautiful idol of Kali. A side shrine housed a shivlinga with the garbhagriha decorated with 12 Jyotirlingas. As I was exploring the surroundings, I heard the sound of dhak coming from the back of the temple. Some ritual was underway. I could see at least 6 drummers congregated outside a small enclosure with their dhaks decorated with red panache. The electrified energy was visible as they moved fluidly with the drumbeats even in that cramped space.

The party then moved to the pandal and set up in front of the Durga idols. The curtain was removed and the priests started what looked like rituals for invoking, welcoming the Durga and the family for the festivities. Each idol – Durga, Laksmhi & Saraswati, and Kartikeya & Ganesh – were offered flowers, tilak, fruits, and aarati. Every offering to each idol was accompanied by a short drumroll. This went on slowly and methodically for a while. I wish I had somebody to explain what was going on.

After all the family members were invited, a box of ornaments were brought in. Till now I had not realised that Durga as well as the others did not have आयुध in their hands. One item at a time patiently placed. Veena वीणा for Saraswati, mace गदा for Ganesh, a bow धनुष्य for Kartikeya, खड्ग/वज्र for the Mahishaura. With the spear भाला pointed at the Mahishasur placed with utmost care the picture was complete. I realised now that it was Shashthi, the first day of the Durgapuja festivities. Something I had not experienced the last time I attended it before the pandemic.

The process and the end result was mesmerising. The Dhaks were now in motion again. This time with more space, the drummers moving as a group, dancing facing inwards building on each others’ energy, plumes on the dhaks bobbing up and down rhythmically. Reminded me of JP Dhol pathak in Ganesh Visarjan procession.

When we were new to Delhi, I wandered about aimlessly, and got to know the city through such serendipitous finds. Covid shifted the way I approach the city, the spontainity is lost. This festive season, a chain of events, otherwise frustrating, helped me get back to that mood.

PS: Some other glimpses

Dilli Diary · Musings

Gardens that kept me afloat

I started keeping a facebook photo diary on my terrace garden in Delhi. As I share happenings in my garden, Facebook also keeps showing some memories long forgotten, and I wander reminiscing. Experiencing all over again the feel of each and every plant; the excitement of the first sprout, first flower, first gourd flower turning to fruit; taste of home grown veggies; mystery of unknown plants cropping up.

My garden in NYC started with a Mogra plant. I had a habit of wandering in the neighbourhoods on my way home instead of taking the subway near my university. One summer walking home from the medical campus I was pleasantly surprised, shocked, overwhelmed to see a mogra plant in a small shop selling garden supplies somewhere in Washington heights. Mogra is my soul flower. It was like a call from home. So I bought it for $14.99. An exhorbitant price at that time. For comparison, my eating out/pampering myself budget was $5/month.

That started me off on my journey of window boxes in the 1 room I shared with Selen. One room meant, 2 windows, 1 with a heating coil under it so effectively just one window. When Parag moved to NYC and we moved into a 1BR apartment. Suddenly there were 4 viable windows beckoning me. Unfortunately, as we moved in the dead of winter in January, in spite of all the wrapping and blankets, the first Mogra didn’t survive the move.

In spring, I experimented with daisies, asters. Mums in fall. With plants at home the empty squares on the sidewalk beckoned me and I started putting in seedlings wherever I found place. Everybody stared, finally a well meaning granny pointed out that I was digging in nasty stuff that should be left unturned. haha. Don’t remember how many of those sapplings took root, but that activity gave me a better eye for wild plants, flowers, generally flora and fauna. I suddenly started seeing many more minute details, the little critters, new life after the first thaw, changing textures and colours.

The NB apartment was the epitome of luxury after the cramped NYC apartments. We had a longish balcony, an actual open space attached to the house. Plenty of space and height for the indoor plant we inherited from Perien while we were in NYC. All the plants moved with us from NYC, and moved again to PVD, finally in their own space to expand rather than the cramped window boxes.

Providence garden finally provided the space for experimenting on a larger scale. Growing vegetables, trying out different seasonal plants etc but what I remember the most is the first spring and the entire summer after that. As the ground thawed, we saw various flowers and sprouts coming up one after the other. Some places like the corners next to the steps, obviously had some plants in hybernation but I did not expect the surprises popping up everywhere as the temperature increased. Grape hycinth, white grass lily, to bearded iris and black eyed susans. All an enigma.

Each and every garden was a salve for the soul. A link to the distant home, warmth and sign of life in the dead of winter, and as we grew with each other, a way to find home in the new places.


Dilli Diary

Eerie quiet

This is the second week in Delhi lockdown. The second wave or whichever wave it is, has been quite deadly and devastating. The appeals for oxygen, hospital beds on twitter, WhatsApp are heartbreaking. We are thankful to just be out of lozenges and other medicines that have substitutes.

The most surprising part has been the pindrop silence on the weekend it started. Generally, there are kids flouting the curfew. People walking. Vehicles passing by. This time it feels different. The air is thick with foreboding. I realized it a bit late in the week as we were struggling with health ourselves.

Then I start hearing reports of people from our 4 household building. An elderly neighbour is unwell and being treated at home with oxygen as there are no beds available. Another family in isolation. So 3 out of 4 down. And it dawns on me that each and every building around the neighbourhood garden in front of us must have covid positive cases. Delhiites otherwise do not let go of their daily rhythms for pesky rules and shutdowns.

Dilli Diary

The Kites

September 2018
Birds in our backyard · Kite. Ghaar in marathi. A bird of prey. But many times I see smaller birds like crows and pigeons chasing it.
There is a pair that has used the stadium light in the garden in front of us for nesting. So I have a clear view as their life unfolds. They also see them perched on the Tatasky dish on top of our building.

Baby’s visit, 16 January, 2019
The baby birds are used to our terrace and visit often. It is fascinating to see them changing so fast.

I can Fly, September 25, 2019
Yesterday, I was amazed to see the kite baby fly out of its nest for the first time. There is a very tall pole with floodlights on four sides in the garden in front of us. A pair of Black Kites seems to like it. This is the second year they built the nest there. I was staring out the door, while talking with my mother. And suddenly I saw a smaller bird coming out and standing on the edge as if contemplating. Then taking flight. I thought the breeding begins in winter and Kites were grown and ready to fly in summer. So may be it wasnt the first flight. Whatever it was, it was mesmerizing.

Nesting, September 30, 2020
The Kite is gathering long sticks for a few days now. Somewhere a nest is coming up. The place on the light pole seems to be abandoned. Proably because the construction right across from it is now taller than the stadium light.
It picked up a stick from our terrace from the bundle I have been saving to use in the veggie patch. Then quickly dropped it. May be because of the thorns or because I suddenly stepped out on the terrace exactly at that moment. It took a wide flight around the marsh/patch of grass in the forest behind us and then swooped in and picked up a stick. This one seems to have worked better. Balancing the stick in its beak, it flew around the pole and behind the building. I so wish I can go wandering, looking for the nest.

Dilli Diary

Story of a sapling

I was waiting imptiently for the weather to warm up a bit to make a garden shop run. A deadline for paper submission behind me in the first week of March I decided to go to Barafkhana to get some seeds and seedlings to start the season.

Not good pickings but we decided to get some anyways in case the Corona threat resulted in a lockdown. One of the wiser decisions in early March. The tomatoes, chillies, eggplants were all easy to pick but the gourds were a problem. Really small saplings with only one or two true leaves meant I wasn’t sure what I was buying. The seller had musk melons and some gourd variety vegetable.

I wanted a ridge gourd. Tori in Hindi. But we have seen some smooth varieties in Delhi that we don’t like. So we proceeded to explain what we really wanted. The ridged variety. A lot of confusion ensued as both the seller and us reached the far end of our vocabulary in each other’s languages. We looked for photos of a ridge gourd on our mobile to show what we mean by the ridged variety. After a lot of mumbling on his part we got a sapling. Me promising myself to come back after a week or so if needed.

Saplings all in their respective new homes that evening, I forgot all about the confusion and the doubt in my mind as we got busy preparing for the lock down. The vine grew beautifully and started flowering. Then there was a female flower. If you are a gardener you will know that gourds have a little version of themselves on the female flower. If you can’t identify a plant, looking at the female flower is a sure-shot way to know what the vine is proposing.

A beautiful round fruit to be. Surely not the ridge gourd I thought I planted. Parag and I thought back to our conversations with the seller trying to remember the names he was throwing at us. Parag thought he said Kakari. A cucumber? That didn’t make sense with the perfect sphere we had. Somebody on the gardening group suggested Kachri. With similar pronounciation to Kakari we thought that was a good candidate. Kachri is a wild melon that looks like a mini water melon, bitter when green and sour as it ripens. Used as a meat tenderizer. None of these things were super exciting or useful for us.

Somebody suggested it might be a Muskmelon but we were sure it had to be something different, a vegetable not a fruit, as the confusion was about the gourd sapling and not the Kharbuja, the musk melon. But we hoped and wondered as the fruit grew. The vine was trained on a vertical mesh assuming it was going to be a ridge gourd. Just in case it was a musk melon, I built a hamoc to support the weight of the fruit.

As the fruit grew in the hamoc, it started becoming stouter in a pumpkin kind of way rather than growing a bit oblong like a kachari. Was the hamoc shaping it differently or was it the natural shape? More discussions among my various gardening groups ensued. It is a musk melon I thought. In the meanwhile Parag tried to taste a fruit that had dropped due to heat. His contorted face said bitter as hell. Kachri it is then.

The color started changing and we waited with bated breath. Smelling it once in a while. Musk melon smell is unmistakable and the aroma catches attention when it is ready, I was told. No aroma. Kachari it is. And then like magic, one evening we found the fruit sitting in the hamoc, unattached from the vine, exuding its signature smell.

Looks like the seller gave us a sapling from the wrong tray. I have never grown a musk melon before so this whole process was utterly fascinating, especially the back and forth every few days wondering if it was Kachri or a musk melon. The aroma was so intoxicating (may be more so after all the drama) that I kept walking to the kitchen to smell it every half an hour. We compared it to the musk melon we had bought the previous day. The size isn’t too small in spite of the limited resources. I am not a fan of musk melon but this one was the most wonderous fruit I have had in my lifetime. Definitely a keeper in the list of plants to grow next spring.

Dilli Diary

Lock down diary

As the lock down progresses, our understanding of what is most important keeps changing. Most important ‘thing’ that we are afraid we cannot procure. If you were thinking about a philosophical reading about importance of family, love, acceptance etc, this is not the post. 😉

I started on March 3 thinking about the dry groceries we needed to stock up on. I had just finished the proposal for AoIR so now I was fully focused on preparing for Covid19. Nobody around me thought it was necessary, so started the uphill battle to convince my spouse and my mother that we need to stock up. Lists were made, groceries and medicines were bought. It was beginning of the month so it wasn’t an odd exercise. It was just a bit more methodical.

Next was a trip to Barafkhana for seeds and saplings. In spite of the slight panic about stocking groceries, the trip for Spring gardening supplies didn’t feel like an emergency. I did not buy a single thing at the garden show on Feb 28 because I thought there was still time. First week of March, we ventured out and got some seedlings and vermicompost. The stock wasn’t that great and I thought I will make it back some other day. Things moved way to fast after that to risk an outing in a tuktuk to get seedlings so now we have to make do with whatever seeds are available in the kitchen.

The panic slowly moved to availability of milk and veggies. BigBasket distribution was disrupted and walking down to the dairy for milk every other day became problematic. The online delivery of milk and the occasional veggie vendor making the rounds fixed much of that.

As we approached April, it suddenly started heating up. I patted my back for getting the ACs serviced in March. Way too early than our regular schedule. As the temperature soared, so did the mosquitoes. Swarms are now attacking every evening. The prized possession of the day is the mosquito bat. haha

कुणाच काय तर कुणाच काय

Dilli Diary

Basant at Nizamuddin

We had visited the dargah once during a heritage walk of the Nizamuddin Basti organized by the group Sair e Nizamuddin. I had heard about the Basant Panchami celebrations at that time. I finally made it yesterday to see what it was all about.

The story goes like this: Hazrat Nizamuddin was sad after he lost his nephew, who was like a son to him. One day Khusro saw some women decked up in yellow saris, holding mustard flowers, and singing songs. He asked them where they were going. They were going to the temple for Basant Panchami day. He asked if it will make their god happy. They said yes. This gave him an idea. Khusro, decked up in yellow sari and mustard flowers went to see Hazrat Nizamuddin and sang Basant songs to him. This brought a smile on the auliya’s face. Since then Basant is celebrated at the dargah with Khusro’s songs. You can read more about the story and history of Basant at Nizamuddin in this article on Scroll from 2016.

I had not seen this article or any other information about the schedule anywhere except a guided tour that was supposed to be there at 3. So I decided that must be the key time. I promptly reached at 3pm, picked up a place at the back of the seating area in front of the Dargah and waited for what seemed like forever. It was sunny and the dargah looked beautiful under the blue sky. Some people had tied yellow scarfs on their forehead. Some more were brought in. I got fidgety and decided to explore the complex a bit more. A lady beautifully dressed in yellow from head to toe was hurrying around. People were milling about. It was like an Indian wedding celebration. Many people doing many things around me but I didn’t know what actually was going on. Although, I must admit, people watching was the best. Everybody was decked up and excited. People were posing for selfies everywhere. Starting conversations with random strangers.

I got up from my seat when I could hear singing coming from the back entrance. People wearing yellow and holding Sarson ke phool were singing the famous songs – Sakal ban phool rahi sarson, Aaj basant manale suhagan, followed by one more that I hadn’t heard before. They entered the courtyard and sang the same songs again. Then everybody dispersed. A wide area was cleared off in front of the dargah. The kids holding Sarson ke phool, sat down at the back. It was time for evening prayers and everybody dispersed.

After the evening prayers, the groups of singers started again from the previous point in the courtyard behind the dargah. After singing for some time, they walked in procession the dargah at the place cleared out. It was a riot of yellow as the singing progressed and people threw marigold petals in the air.

Sakal ban phool rahi sarson
Umbva boray, tesu phulay
Koyal bolay daar daar
Aur gori karat singaar
Malaniyan gadhwa laya ayin karson
Tarah Tarah ke phool lagaye
Kwaza Nizamuddin ke darawaze pe

The procession then moved to other parts of the dargah complex. Overall it was an interesting experience but would have been much better if I had accompanied somebody who knew what to expect. It will also be good if you can find a place higher up around the dargah to avoid all the media people and professional photographers and videographers who were a menace to say the least.