It was one of those Sundays, when for a change I was sure of one thing I just had to do that day – to visit a Gallery I had gone to see the day before (the Wonderland in one of my previous posts). Camera in hand, I went hopping to the place to find that they were sure of one thing this Sunday – we won’t be open to visitors.
So with a dismal step I turned to go back. My heart ached for something and I decided to at least see a new street and took the street in that came up. As my eyes travelled over the houses, one house held my gaze; frozen. A colonial bungalow, soaring over the neighborhood in its majestic stance and a belly swollen with stories, memories and seasons. I peered through the gate and saw some rustic chairs lying in the porch. I checked the gate and found it locked. From the inside. A shiny new lock. Aah.
I called out but no response. Not the one to give up, I saw a man coming out from the opposite house and asked him. He told me that it’s habitated and there’s another gate further up. Through that other gate I spied this lady sweeping the dust and the dry flowers spread over the drive way like a thin summer sheet. I called out again, no response. I gingerly turned the gate’s tiny handle and put a foot inside the vintage territory – that’s when she looked up. I made eye contact and walked in softly.
“Hallo. Good evening!”
Removing her mask and in a menacing tone, “Hi. What do you want?”
“Uhh..ermmm…I found this house really nice. It’s beautiful. Can I please take a picture of it?”
Now in a less menacing tone, but menacing still “Yes sure. But you can’t go inside.”
“Yes, yes. That’s alright.” *already thinking of ways of most graceful exit*
But something, very gradually, made my comfortable in that space. The lady kept sweeping with her mask on while I took 1-2 pictures from afar, not intruding beyond a safe zone. What happened after that, I’d have never expected. And I’ll save that for another post. Till then, stay afloat!
So i had gone down, half-asleep, to throw out the garbage when i spotted my building’s guard in this space. I immediately rushed back upstairs, pulled out my cam and came down to take this shot. Such excitement early in the morn, made my day. :D
His name is Prem Singh and he’s a sweet, nimble person who talks to everyone with a consistent politeness. :)
Clicked at one of the still surviving and oldest coffee shops in Delhi. They don’t even bother you if you don’t place an order here. They just give you a space to tune in, unwind and get in touch with things usually forgotten.
Oh and probably the only left that i’ve come across which still has “paisas” on its menu.
I’m sitting here in the boring room
It’s just another rainy Sunday afternoon
I’m wasting my time
I got nothing to do
I’m hanging around
I’m waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder…