On the lamp trail

Apologies to the misinformed, this is NOT a blog about Alladin's magic lamp.

I'd read sometime back that the annual book fair at Dilli sells the most number of books in India. I haven't conducted a survey, but most friends who are bibliophiles love curling up in bed with a book.

The two above statements are not directly related, but linked by a common object — the humble table-lamp. This happens to be the preferred light source.

But my experience this afternoon makes me wonder if Delhiites curl up in  bed at all with books. Do they read the books thery buy? Or are they showpieces to adorn the study's shelves?

My starting point was the Bong ghetto, C.R. Park. 

We Bongs are known to love things literary, but sadly an exhaustive search of all markets at C.R. Park revealed the table-lamps are obviously imported from Calcutta. We did not find a single shop that sells them. You'll get everything else, albeit at a premium, from your favourite Anandabazar Patrika to masala bodis.

Our quest brings us next to Kalkaji market... but lo and behold, only one shop stocks them. And they are either of the premium variety — either they cost the earth (Rs 900/- for a Philips contraption) or look really atrocious (Rs 270/- for a local device, with a "branded" CFL and one-year warranty).

My well-meaning friend, on whose bike I was riding pillion, tried to make the shopkeeper see reason and settle the deal for Rs 250/- but the fellow sees no merit in that. 

We do come across another shop in Kalkaji, but its run out of stock.

Ah! Off to computer heaven — Nehru Place. A fellow helpfully offers a USB-powered lamp, thats about it.

Next stop, Alaknanda.

What a wonderful market. It has ATMs of possibly eight banks and innumerable gift shops. The only lamps we come across are emergency lamps.

Off to GK-II then. Again a quick scan of markets reveal zilch. And we come across a shop that apparently  stocks these elusive lamps but wouldn't open before half past five this Monday evening.

Hang on, should we visit bargain bazaar then? Off to Govindpuri.

My friend, with his hawk-vision stops at anything that remotely says electric. One shop between GK and Kalkaji says yes. False hope, it turns out. This guy repairs them, doesn't sell them.

But he helpfully guides us to a wholesaler in DDA Kalkaji who stocks the item. 

After navigating through an unusually narrow lane, we come across something that looks like a roadside stall outside a closed shop nd the back portion of a warehouse.

Fellow cheerfully tells  us he does stock them. And disappears.

A couple of minutes later we get worried. Hope he isn't planning to report uss to the cops. Who knows, table-lamps might be the preferred items for terror attacks these days.

Aha! Here comes the fellow with two enormous cardboard cartons. One indeed holds a gigantic ivory version of the lamp. Ditto the second box. And no, he doesn't have more colours or models. Take it or leave it.

While we look heavenwards in despair, a new fellow comes carrying three new boxes. And one does hold a rather dusty smart-looking lamp. We ask the fellow to dust it and to us it looks quite hep.

Turns out the price is cool as well. Rs 150/- with the lamp, but no warranty as it's made in China.

We make the deal. Who cares about a warranty when you've at last found a lamp to your liking. After a three-hour quest.

I'll keep my fingers crossed. And happy reading!

A 'forgettable' Independence Day

It was an Independence Day I'd like to forget. While I don't remember what I was doing on Republic Day this year, this August 15, my first in Dilli (hang on, maybe not the first, but first as a resident), didn't go off too well.
The day began on a sour note. There were traffic jams galore thanks to the rain on the night of August 14. As a result, my place of work was unable to provide me a cab after I was done with my night shift at half past one. The cab came over an hour late. Then we made a minor detour to Ferozeshah Kotla, before we mad it to our final destination — Noida — the "jewel" in UP's crown.
Now my friend I hear you exclaim: "Noida? But that's way beyond city limits. How can you say something about the city when you don't even live here?"
Well, um, its true. I live in the NCR region technically. That is why this is my first post after moving to the city way back in December. But I spend practically all my waking hours here, in the heart of the city, near CP. I work here!
Now that the purists, myself included, have been satiated, let's get on with the tale of woe. I got home a shade before 4am. Terrific!
A quick shower and a late dinner (or shall I call it an early breakfast?) later, I was set to enter the realm of dreams. Only there were no dreams. I was too tired to dream.
A friend woke me up around 11 when he called for the nth time to say he was set for Noida and would like to meet. Great! Meet him or not my obsessed mind said I'd like a ride back to Dilli. Friend said OK, but won't you get late for work? I countered I was on night and could walk in anytime I wanted. Ride acquired, I went back to sleep.
And the dreams came. Or was it a nightmare? It  was as if I was in a racer video game. Instead of avoiding obstacles, I was ducking people spitting all over (in case you don't know, the average Delhiite considers the city an enormous spittoon.
Blob! did the above mentioned hit me. No, it was my immensely helpful bai sprinkling water on my face to wake me up. Why? She wanted my permission to leave. when did she come? It transpired my flatmate had let her in and had fallen asleep. He wasn't working so he was snoring away to glory having warned her not to wake him up. And my bai who thought nothing about taking unscheduled days off, could not leave without telling us!
OK, back to sleep. Then my flatmate wakes me up at half past two to enquire if I'd like to have lunch. After a sumptuous meal of cream chicken and lachcha paranthas, I decide to catch some action on the telly — and that is when Noida's electric supply company decided to remind us to be self-reliant — generate your own power coz we stop supplies now.
Without the luxury of an inverter, we sweat it out, till my friend decides to let me know he has been delayed and I shouldn't wait.
Thus I venture outdoors outside five to make my long trip to office. Thanks to the stupid politicians, auto-rickshaws with UP numbers are not allowed into Delhi and so we have to take our pick of limited dilli autos when we use this expensive commute. And 90 per cent of the drivers are out there to fleece you. So I had no option but to get fleeced on 15th August as I was late for office and there were no buses in sight. It felt criminal to waste that kind of money, but then I guess that was the way the Capital wanted to drive home the message — be self-reliant. Don't depend on public transport, get your own vehicle.
Thankfully, things were much better once I got to office. You see, the superboss had ordered pizzas for all. And before that we had our own gobble session from McDonald's. And the pizza was Dominos.
So, sadly, this Independence Day, things that made my day were all of foreign origin, while the country and its citizens tried their level best to spoil the day of an unlucky one who did not have the luxury of a day off.
Jai Hind!