I recently visited
old Delhi or the Walled city as it is commonly known as. Irrespective
of the time of the day and part of the year that you go ,it is always
bustling with people.Navigation through the streets is no mean task. People transacting,buying and selling and
conducting the business of life.Some go there for work others to
experience the old world charm,other find old delhi alluring for the
food that it offers. For me it was time to retrace my roots. Actually
I am a true Delhiite or Dilli Wala and I can trace back by roots up to
4 generations who were born and grew up in Delhi.In good old days of
life in Chandni Chowk life was quite different. In the times when my
grandfather or his father used to lived there and whom of course I never met used to be
quite regal. In the lane that led to our ancestral home there were
quite a few landmarks that one could recognize as I visited that
place as a child. The path of Navigation down memory lane is not
always smooth. As we entered the main gate of what once used to be a
familiar lane bore a distinctly different look. Almost all the
familiar landmarks of that lane have been erased. The first thing
that we missed was the coal seller and his shop which was right at
the entrance, Gone is the coal seller and gone are the coal marks that
were there near his shop perhaps erased by the passage of times. The
whole lane has been converted into a commercial market. There are
very few homes left. Once we could hear the sounds of All India Radio
playing out old peppy songs but now those homes are no longer there.
Neither are there any familiar faces. The place where my great grand
father used to sit and chat with his friend has also been demolished.
Luckily the temple is intact where my grandmother used to go and
pray.Our maternal home which was on the end of the lane is locked
away as no one stays there any more. The walls either got demolished
or could not stand their tryst with time. Yet the memories of this
place are still intact somewhere on the canvas of my mind. I look
back to take another look at my ancestral home or what is left of it
and moved on as I walk along BaghDiwar and walk towards Fatehpuri. As this
roads ends I find myself standing in from of a church that has stood
the test of time. On my right is a peanut seller. Selling hot peanuts
and popcorns. I buy some to eat and the hot peanuts are yummy.
Perhaps I should take some just as we used to take them back home when I used to visit with my grandfather. I request
him if he can give me a bag to carry the hot peanuts in and he gladly
extends a bag. He begins to share his pearls of wisdom with me by
saying “Pyar se maango to Sab kuch Milega” meaning if you ask
lovingly you would get everything. Then he says now a days every one
is living for one own self parents do not have time for children. Nor
children have any time or love for their siblings.Then he asks me do
you live here ? I point towards the direction of my maternal home
“there is my Nanihal” or maternal home. Mr Md. Wali the peanut
seller nods and smiles and say do come again.
I collect my bag of
peanuts and a bigger bag of fantastico memories and walk away
This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.
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