The Mad Rush & Aroma Of The Bazaars

As soon as the train entered the Noida City Centre station, people became impatient and hasty and quickly started forming groups. The groups were positioned according to the doors of the train. Everyone was looking to grab a seat in the peak hour rush. My friend Preetesh however informed that it was not the ‘ideal’ peak hour rush, and that I was to witness it at Rajiv Chowk. I could not make out the ‘threshold’ for the rush he referred to compared to what I was witnessing at that moment. The train stopped and the groups started jostling. The doors opened, and as it happens in non-metro Indian trains (without automatic doors), external passengers fought their way forcibly into the train without even waiting for their internal counterparts to disembark. This caused a massive hullabaloo- a mini-stampede, few slangs exchanged and some isolated quarrels. Since Preetesh, my brother and I were standing in the front row of one of the groups, we could manage to take seats. The compartment soon became pretty much crowded, and my first Delhi Metro ride kicked off in fashion. The train made its way through the flyover amidst beautiful residential colonies, numerous sectors and pockets and finally reached Rajiv Chowk where we were to change for our ultimate destination, Chawri Bazaar. We scampered our way to the exit door but had a hard time finding our way out. The same internal-external conflict was visible. Very soon we got a push from behind and discovered ourselves out of the train. The doors were about to close and hit us but we managed a close shave. Once I got out of the train, I saw numerous people rushing in different directions and jam packed escalators; as if everyone was running short of time or was desperate to catch the last train available in this world.

Up next, we had to line up for one more challenging entry into the connecting train for Chawri Bazaar. Here it seemed a bit disciplined with barricades in the platform around the doors of the stopping train and security officials cordoning off each entry point. Rajiv Chowk being one of the busiest stations and junctions was aided with these facilities. This train arrived, and people started pouring out- just like someone having overeaten was vomiting out. Again we got a thrust from the back and entered the already crowded train, struggled our way into the middle and quickly caught hold of one of the hanging danglers lest we fell down or stamped on someone’s shoes. Just a couple of stops and we reached Chawri Bazaar.

We climbed upstairs and came out of the station to find ourselves in puraani (old) Delhi— sparse lanes, traditional businesses, aged buildings, small utility shops, food stalls, roadside vendors and steady state of affairs. We boarded a three-sitter rickshaw, and made our way through those slim lanes infested with so many people and events happening here and there. I had the back view being the pillion rider facing the opposite side. There were faces at every nook and corner and something or the other taking place— someone laughing loud over his mobile phone while speaking, someone toiling hard to carry heavy merchandise boxes over his head, someone abusing his fellows, while someone simply watching the proceedings. I continuously stared at those people while our rickshaw got stuck in the middle. There was activity all around— traders selling their wares of trade, buyers weighing their options, food stall owners trying their level best to preserve the hygiene in their ‘open’ food on display, a beggar collecting alms, school children making their way back home and few policemen chatting over tobacco. I noticed a couple of monkeys in the overhead electric wire on the rampage making their way into someone’s balcony.

We got down at Jama Masjid and entered Gali Kababian— the famous lane of kabab restaurants. There were restaurants lined up one after the other, all claiming to be big shots in the field of kababs and Mughlai cuisine. However, we knew beforehand that Karim’s and Al Jawahar were the best in business when it came to Mughlai food. We decided to enter Karim’s and savor our taste buds. Established in 1913, the ancestors of the founder of Karim’s were chefs of the Mughal dynasty and were known to serve the Mughal emperors. The seating occupancy inside the restaurant just went on to prove the goodwill Karim’s possessed. We had to wait for a moment for people to finish off their meals and vacate the seats for us. A scrumptious lunch consisting of Chicken Jehangiri, Mutton Korma and Roti made the day for us. It satisfied us to the core of our hearts. Tutti frutti ice cream with freshly cut fruits on the top was the icing on the cake. By the time we finished off the ice cream, we were fully contended, on seventh heaven.

It was time to get back home and gear ourselves up for the metro rail ride. But there was no sign of fatigue within us; rather an indomitable spirit rejuvenated our minds. Some invaluable memories and unforgettable scenes formed our key takeaways from the express tour.