Tag Archives: University

Parthasarathy Rocks (and Flowers of JNU)

Dinesh Wagle at Parthasarathy Rocks in JNU. December 2008.

Dinesh Wagle at Parthasarathy Rocks in JNU. December 2008.

17th and 20th March 2013 When I was living in Delhi as a correspondent for Kantipur, PSR was my favorite place in the city. That, according to me, is also the most beautiful place in the whole of Delhi. I would spend hours at the Parthasarathy Rocks, located inside the Jawaharlal Nehru University campus chatting with friends and, when with Satish, strangers. The dhabas in the Uni during late evenings are great place to be. But nothing beats the experience of sitting over one of the main two rocks at PSR in late afternoon and watch planes fly and, if lucky, peacocks dance in the jungle that surrounds the rocks. I went there this time as well to spent a couple of hours along with Satish and Ishwari. Beautiful flowers of JNU campus deserve a separate entry- but for now I’ll limit myself to posting photos only.

One year into my stay in Delhi in 2009 I was full of praise for PSR and the “PSR experience”:

Back in Delhi, I am a grown up man with a responsibility to fulfill. It’s a blessing to me that my work not just involves sitting in front of computer with browsers open but also traveling and meeting new people. Listening to disheartening stories of poor, unfortunate and deprived Nepalis in Delhi is one of the darkest experiences.

Exploring the city, having dahi valla in Chandni Chowk and standing at the Parthasarathi Rocks of JNU have been some of the most fulfilling experiences. I would say being at the top of PSR, seeing peacocks singing and dancing and airplanes flying, is the best thing I have experienced in this city this year. That particular moment when I was photographed (by a camera!) at PSR was the best of all. I cherish that moment.

From  A Year in Delhi, India (6 Nov 2009)

Previous articles/entries on JNU:
1. Happy Holi India! (and JNU Chaat Festival)
2. Winter Flagbearers: Delhi Cold and JNU Food Festival
3. India, Universities and World Ambitions

Advertisements

Pasta and daal, for free, in the name of Lord Krishna

London-hare-Krishna-food-1

Just as I was about enter through the main gate, someone waved at me and extended a warm invitation.

“Come, eat,” he said. “It’s a very cold day today. You should eat something. It’s free.”

The white man, with a bald head and a huge tuppi, was wearing a yellowish dhoti. I was in central London at the campus of a well-known British school. I had gone there to see a Nepali-speaking professor. I had reached at the gate a good 30 minutes earlier after tiring myself of walking around and inside Hyde Park for a couple of hours. I needed to kill time.

I was hungry too.

Pasta, very thick daal and an interesting conversation were waiting for me.

The person who invited me for this surprise late afternoon lunch was accompanied by a man who looked like a Southasian and a white lady.

I could instantly recognize who these people were. A small board with words from Bhagawat Gita was stood on the food stall that stood on wheels. But I didn’t need to see that to conclude who they were. I happily accepted the invite. I was instantly given a plate full of food that I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish.

I ate along with other students who were offered the food in the same manner I was offered.

Some Indian students, while eating the same food as they stood not far from the food stall, were cracking some dirty jokes in Hindi.

I quietly listened to them while strolling around to suppress my laughter.

I couldn’t eat that all.

“Can I take a photo of you distributing food, please?” I asked.

“Yes,” said the Russian man. I was just guessing his nationality based on his ascent. Turned out i
I was correct.

“Oh, Nepal,” he reacted after I answered his question. “Ratna Park! I know. I have been there. Budhanilakantha. There is temple.” He was correct. Long time ago, I had gone to interview a Russian at the ISCON temple in Budhanilakantha. As far as I could remember, this man with thick tuppi looked like the Russian that I had met in Budhanilakantha in 2004.

The Southasian guy turned out to be a Sri Lankan. “I have a friend who worked in Nepal,” he said in a very excited tone. “He coached the national Cricket team of Nepal. Do you know Roy Dias? He is my classmate.”

“I know Roy Dias,” I told him, “But only through media. Not personally.”

“I believe he was quite a star in Nepal,” he added. “Many girls wanted to marry him. I understand that the boys (Cricket players, he obviously meant, I assumed) liked him as well.”

पढ्नेक्रम जारी राख्नुहोस्