Tag Archives: new delhi

Delhi once again

Status

1

Back in the city where I lived for two years as a correspondent. Fortunately it’s not that hot today (29c). It’s not expected to be so for the rest of the week except for Wednesday (35c), according to the Weather Channel. The heat of Delhi terrifies me. That’s the reason  why I have written a couple of articles on the Delhi heat (and cold). Expecting to be in a cooler place this weekend.

(This trip interrupts my UK entries though I will post one this evening (about revised impression of the Speakers’ Corner at Hyde Park) and the rest after I am back in Kathmandu next week.)

1.Heat and Dust of Delhi (talks about the curfew)
2. Delhi is getting hotter (around this time 3 years ago)
3. Dinesh Wagle Has Moved to New Delhi, India (announcement)
4. Reasons to Come Home (announcement and impression of India)
5. दिल्लीबाट काठमान्डु (for Kantipur)

And on Cold
6. Winter Flagbearers: Delhi Cold and JNU Food Festival (winter cold gets as bad as the summer heat)

About these ads

Nepal should help Indians understand our society and people better

Posted on by
7

promoting nepal in india kathmandu post 8aug10

click to enlarge

Excerpts of an article published in the Kathmandu Post today:

Despite being so close and sharing a border there is an unimaginably high level of misunderstanding about Nepal among Indians. Some of those misunderstandings are based on rumours and hearsay (all Nepalis smoke pot) while others are created by the Indian mainstream media that is most of the times frighteningly immature and trivial when it comes to covering Nepal.

Tens of thousands of Nepali students study in India—right across the country. They are more likely to meet educated and influential Indians (some with misinformation about Nepal) all over the country. That is why these students, not the diplomats, are the real ambassadors of the Himalayan republic in the world’s largest democracy.

Sometime the arguments turn into unreasonable blabber. “When they have nothing to support their argument, they just try to bring in nationality and say ‘you Nepalon, keep quiet’,” said a student who studies in Delhi University. “In such cases when they just argue nothing but keep repeating about the size of their democracy, we also say: if you are the largest democracy, don’t forget, we are also the highest democracy,” said another student at Jawaharlal Nehru University.

Lesser known or politically and economically less powerful countries try to promote their interests in important foreign societies and markets through various means. But Nepal hasn’t found ways to promote itself among the Indian public.

[Here's the full version of the article. Or, click on the photo above.]

Related links:

1. Face Value: Being a Nepali in India

Only a person with a flat nose and, I hate to use the word here but I must, “chinky” eyes, passes as a Nepali for many Indians…..Going by their reactions and comments, I have come to the conclusion that only those with Mongolian features are considered Nepali in India.

When I hear the same from educated Indians like journalists, software professionals, bank employees and university students, I seriously try to explain to them the diverse nature of Nepali society that lives at different altitudes, eats varieties of foods, speaks many languages and sport different looks.

2. Chance Encounters (with Nepalis) In India

It was the lunch hour and the concrete shade, not very far from the showroom, was his favorite spot to eat. Not that they didn’t let him eat in a corner of the showroom itself; but, he said, he found peace here. “And some time to rest,” he added. Hundreds of thousands of uneducated, unskilled and unemployed men (and women) from Nepal come to several Indian cities to take up low-wage, laborious and sometimes humiliating jobs. One can find such Nepalis almost everywhere in India.

India: Ten Years After

Posted on by
Reply
sarojini nagar market
It was a sobering moment when I recently saw a plaque erected beside a wall at Delhi’s another well-known market in Sarojini Nagar. “Condolence to those who died in the bomb blast on 29 Sept 2005,” said the plaque. It listed the names/identities of 47 people. A total of 50 people died on that day. Three of them couldn’t be identified.

On the last day of 2009, India’s Home Minister P. Chidambaram appeared before the media as part of his monthly schedule to provide his assessment of the security situation in the country. The next day’s headline quoted the minister, “Eventful, but peaceful year.” That’s a jolly good headline to begin a new year with. In a country like India that is so wide and so populous, it is indeed a feat to make a year “eventful but peaceful”. Particularly so for a country that is so targeted by terrorists of different kinds and that cannot recall a year in recent times being peaceful in the true sense of the word.

Forget about the November 2008 terror attacks in Mumbai that dominated the “peaceful” year of 2009. Just look at the major markets in Delhi, for example, and you can see the scars everywhere. The Flower Market at Mehrauli was hit by a bomb in September 2008. The famous Karol Bagh market witnessed a blast in the same month that year. Blasts also rocked the markets at Connaught Place and Greater Kailash. It was a sobering moment when I recently saw a plaque erected beside a wall at Delhi’s another well-known market in Sarojini Nagar. “Condolence to those who died in the bomb blast on 29 Sept 2005,” said the plaque. It listed the names/identities of 47 people. A total of 50 people died on that day. Three of them couldn’t be identified.

Visitors to every major market in Delhi have to pass through metal detectors seen only at very important locations such as Singha Durbar, the central administrative complex, and airports in Nepal. Many of the security equipment installed in Delhi’s markets have become dysfunctional because, after all, Delhi is Delhi — the capital of India. The impaired detectors remind us of the fact that India, despite its recent economic growth, remains India, an improvised nation of a billion plus citizens with millions still in poverty. And those places with useless security equipment could still be vulnerable to attacks. If untoward incidents didn’t happen in 2009, it was not entirely because of the strong vigilance and policing, but perhaps because the terrorists were busy in other activities.

sarojini nagar market

May such blasts never occur in Delhi, but the bright fact is that Indian society is vibrant and its power to get over such attacks has grown over the years. The critically acclaimed 2008 movie Mumbai Meri Jaan, based on the July 2006 train bombings in Mumbai that killed 209 people and injured over 900, tells it best. Whatever happens, life goes on. You survive to live your life. In fact, India is too big to be intimidated by such attacks and incidents. Society can get over the wounds quickly and move on. The pace is increasing as ever. As the New Year rung in, Indians welcomed it with a bang. Delhi was completely soaked in celebrations and parties. Big hotels and expensive restaurants were booked to their full capacity. Entry fees alone for many of the parties were in the range of Indian Rs. 10,000 per couple.

While providing his assessment, the home minister didn’t forget the Maoist insurgency that is spreading all over India and remained in the headlines throughout the year 2009. Termed the greatest internal security threat to India by its prime minister, the problem that is igniting Maoism in India is certainly a grave challenge for this country. “I am disappointed over the Lalgarh situation,” said the minister referring to the district in West Bengal that hosted a major part of the Maoist agitation last year. “It’s pretty depressing,” he said.

Depressing it certainly is, but overall, the situation in India is pretty encouraging. Some headlines are even more enthusiastic. Under the banner headline “Happy New Decade, India”, the Indian Express on the first day of the new year published the findings of a study that said, among other things, even if no reforms happen, India’s GDP can grow at an average annual rate of 9.6 percent for the next 10 years. “Nine percent growth for 10 years with no reforms — that’s how well-placed India is as 2010 begins,” it said. With rapid reforms, it said, India could achieve even more. Even without reforms, the per capita income will grow at an average of 8 percent per year. By the end of the decade, incomes will be almost double compared to now. Roughly 800 million Indians will be middle class — defined as those earning between IRs. 75,000 to Rs. 10 lakh a year — out of an end-of-decade population of 1.3 plus billion.

Going by the findings, it seems another challenge to the Indian government is reform because reform is directly related to the Maoist problem. If there are no reforms (policy status quo), and growth is 9 percent plus, more than 250 million people (out of 1.3 billion plus) will still be very poor in 2020, according to the study. The number of Indians not literate will fall by 10 million in 10 years, but that will still leave nearly 200 million non-literate citizens. The more poor and non-literate people in society, the more intense are the movements like that of the Maoists. The study says only drastic reforms in fiscal, education and other policies will help India become the global powerhouse that its citizens so badly want it to be.

This article appeared on today’s Op-Ed of the Kathmandu Post

A Tale of Two Cities: Kathmandu and Delhi

Posted on by
Reply

In Kathmandu, things are a bit chaotic for its size.

By Dinesh Wagle
Wagle Street Journal

Dharahara, Kathmandu is mostly surrounded by chaos

So how’s Delhi?” many of my friends asked me when I was in Kathmandu recently.

I had stayed away from Kathmandu and lived in Delhi for a year.

The question expected two different answers: Some wanted to know about city life while others were interested in the political happenings in the Indian capital vis-à-vis the Nepali situation. Some had asked out of curiosity while others for formality. The conversations inevitably moved towards comparison. Some said “Delhi ma ta ramro hola hai?” (It must be good in Delhi, no?) citing things gone disappointingly bad in Kathmandu.

Delhi isn’t a great city of the world that is vastly different from Kathmandu. The only major difference is that the Indian capital is, to some extent, cared for by its government and citizens. It is well served. The government is pouring money into the city to build infrastructure. Apart from creating the “world class” metro rail system, they are making flyovers to free the roads from traffic congestion, paving roads and constructing stadiums to host games of international importance. A new flyover was scheduled to be inaugurated this week on the outer ring road of Delhi (Kathmandu has been only talking about the outer ring road for years). Delhi is gearing up at war pace to host the Commonwealth Games next year. Apart from the developmental activities, a general sense of order and discipline prevails in Delhi though incidents of crime, some of them horrifying, do occur. Continue reading →

A Tale of Two Drivers: Delhi Autowallah and Shillong Cabbie

Posted on by
2

Some people complain while others struggle to make their lives a success.

By Dinesh Wagle
Wagle Street Journal

Hom Bahadur Rana from Tanahun, Nepal is an autowallah in Delhi (click to enlarge the photo)

In the hilly north-eastern Indian town of Shillong, music is your identity. More so in the case of a cabbie. What the audio cassette player in your taxi blares says who you are. When I heard Sanjeev Singh asking, “Why did you put chokho mutu tikho chulesima from inside a cab that was parked at an intersection of Police Bazaar recently, I instantly recognised the man behind the wheel.

“Wassup!” I greeted the man in Nepali without being too excited because the Nepali sound wasn’t unexpected in Shillong. This is part of a region that is home to hundreds of thousands of Nepali Indians. The cable network here distributes TV channels from Kathmandu. Some of the Nepalis in the Darjeeling area of West Bengal are fighting for a separate Gorkhaland state within the Indian union while Shillonge like this taxi driver, resident of Meghalaya, are quietly struggling for their own right to live a respectful life without humiliation. Their own sorry state of being a marginalised minority was in a way similar to the tragic song’s theme.

“We live a torturous life here, daju,” said the driver.

shillong taxi driver

He is a Nepali Indian and drives a cab in his hometown Shillong, Meghalaya (India). (click to enlarge the photo)

Meghalaya is a Khasi majority state where Khasis claim to be “the sons of the soil” and exploit resources without sharing. Nepalis are a minority and, therefore, sidelined and deprived of opportunities, he complained. Perils of federalism, I thought. But I sensed he was slightly exaggerating the situation because there’s no atrocity being committed against the Nepali community in the region these days as it was during the 1980s. At that time, thousands of Nepalis were chased away from Meghalaya and neighboring states like Manipur and Assam. It was noted that India had breached the now controversial 1950 treaty of peace and friendship with Nepal by failing to stop and being a mute spectator to the exodus of Nepalis. The driver insisted that Nepalis still had no equal rights, and that they were not represented well in government services.

“Many young people like me have become drivers,” he said. Some of them drove shared taxis, the primary medium of transportation in Shillong, like him while others went out to cities like Kolkata for better options. Ultimately, they return empty-handed as they fail to struggle in those cities that have a different atmosphere and cultural environment. “We are hill people,” he said. “We can’t live in hot places.”

I was amazed, albeit understandably, to see him at so much ease while talking with me in Nepali. It was his language as much as it was mine. The language brought us so close that, at one point in a similar situation the previous evening, I felt my two Indian co-travelers, students of the Indian Institute of Technology Kharagpur, found themselves excluded when I was talking with another Nepali youth on the streets of Shillong. That young man also complained about a difficult life in a state where Nepalis are a minority lot.

Some people complain while others struggle to make their lives a success. They are not discouraged by countless humiliations and obstacles. They keep on working towards achieving their goals despite facing serious setbacks. They keep journeying despite being cheated sometime by their own comrades and on other occasions by fate. This is the story of Hom Bahadur Rana, an autowallah of Delhi.

Twenty years ago when Rana fled his home in Bandipur, Tanahun, he was 15. Unable to bear the torture of her drunkard husband, Rana’s mother had killed herself a few years ago by hanging herself from a tree not very far from home. He couldn’t continue studying, and thought life wasn’t going anywhere. He arrived in Delhi along with a neighborhood dai. Like millions of other migrant workers in India, he went for whatever work came to him. Money didn’t come. He was already dreaming about Bombay. He found a friend in a Nepali guy he met in a farmhouse in Chandigarh. They decided to catch a train to the seashore.

“We had this dream to make it to Bombai,” (that’s how he pronounces it) recalled Rana. “We wanted to see the sea.” They arrived at Old Delhi railway station only to be tactfully looted by a Nepali-speaker who pretended to be going to Bombay. Rs. 1200, half of the total money they had, was gone in a jiffy. Then they were cheated another Rs. 100 by the railway ticketing agent who sold them “seats” in the general compartment. The journey itself was unforgettable. “We didn’t get space to sit inside the dibba,” Rana said. “We went near the lavatory and sat on the joint that connects the train compartments. In the morning, we saw that our clothes had all been covered with feces.”

In Bombay, they were clueless about the destination. They walked up to the sea and wandered around the city until a taxi suddenly halted in front of them. Two guys got out and started beating them. “You Nepalis,” they said as they threw Rana and his friend inside the cab. “Why do you come here? Take out money.” Another Rs. 300 was gone. The only remaining Rs. 200 was hidden inside their collars. “We knew Bombai was a city of looters,” Rana said. “We had hidden some money in our collars. We were forced to take off even our kattu, but they couldn’t find that money.”

Terrified, they went back to the railway station planning to go back to Delhi without a ticket. If caught, they thought, they could at least get free food. There they met another Nepali who, like the one in Delhi, offered help. This one turned out to be genuine, and they found a job. They thought it was a miracle. After a few years of struggle and stints as security guard and painter, Rana was making money. But he lost all his earnings, Rs. 12,000 in total, in an incident that involved one of his friends eloping with his co-worker and the girl’s relatives filing a complaint to the police. He had to leave the job and the city.

But he wasn’t defeated. Coming back to Delhi, he decided to start all over again. He drove an auto, the three-wheeler that is, in a way, the backbone of Delhi transportation. After a few years of working up to 18 hours a day, he bought a small piece of land in Rohini, west Delhi. There he set up a shack, and for the first time in about 10 years, returned home to marry. Three years ago, he finally bought his own auto on installment. Ownership of an auto has given him a sense of liberation. By the end of next year, he would have made all his payments. Then the profits will come. A week ago, when I was in his three-room home, he served me with a cup of milk tea and some cookies.

“A month ago during Dashain, I organised a small gathering here,” he said, beaming. “I invited many Nepalis living in Delhi and served them masu bhat. I had bought a goat costing Rs. 7,000.”

I have met many Nepalis in India as part of my work, but Rana’s story was by far the most inspiring. He was happy except that his wife badly wants a child, and they haven’t been able to produce one. The day I visited his home, Rana had invited a Nepali jhakri (witch doctor) for jharphuk to satisfy his wife.

This article first appeared in the op-ed page of today’s Kathmandu Post.