Road to karol bagh

Page 1

M I C HAEL S M AL L, W RITER MONDAY, 7 FEBRUARY 2011

ROAD TO KAROL BAGH The taxi ride from Indira Gandhi airport provided an initiation totally unexpected. The back seat, comfortable as it was, had Darcy bunched up with personal baggage that he was clinging to as if he might be hijacked by a gang of starving desperadoes. He was already regretting that he had forgotten the recommended lock and chain that would secure his suitcase to a metal stanchion in bus or train compartment. Hidden beneath his wide-brimmed hat flopped down over his forehead and behind a driver and courier’s glistening black hair gave little protection; in fact, seemed to attract attention. The road running alongside the massive earthworks that gouged through the southwest of Delhi to allow for the Metro extension was chocked with four to six and a half streams of traffic that alternately snailed then gushed into invisible slip-streams. How on earth did that refined lady in an indigo gold-trimmed silk sari sitting aloft in a cycle rickshaw contrive to look so aloof, indifferent, calm in this chaos, her cowled head riding on a wreath of black exhaust and showered with incessant blasts of horn and temper? Occasionally caught off guard, Darcy was distracted by the dash of brilliant sapphire or flamingo or jonquil saris of elegant women balanced on the pillion of weaving, souped-up or sick Enfield Bullets without so much as clamping an arm about their husband’s cotton-clad waist. What a remarkable display of perpetual equilibrium, he had to concede, especially when he caught two women squeezed side-saddle onto one pillion swaying effortlessly with the sterterous rhythms of the bike, one with baby in a sling against her bosom. And no helmets either! Crazy stuff! Suddenly, while the taxi was purring immobile, three raps and a face at the window made him start. Ducking into frame was a mother, probably no more than early twenties, with pitiable entreaties that softened into a complicit smile that instantly hardened into a withering glare followed by more urgent raps. And those dark chestnut eyes, the shade of battle-hardened conkers. Darcy nodded tersely and


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.