Park Life (part 2)
on Roundabouts in Delhi (India), 09/Mar/2011 17:10, 34 days ago
View from remaining secret location of solitudeIt’s not that I am someone who enjoys long periods of solitude or prefers to be alone. Mostly I am happier amongst a crowd, which is just as well when I live in Delhi. However, occasionally I do need time away from the hustle and bustle and time to sit and think or read quietly. There have been manyfailed attempts at finding a place where it is possible to do this without being disturbed by school children, students, families, etc. (note earlier entries on Lodi Gardens and Jama Masjid) but for three months now I’ve managed to maintain one place where I could sit for a whole half hour outdoors at a time undisturbed. Until today.There is a small park just the other side of the road from my office where I often go at lunch times. I sit in the same spot each time, on the flower bed wall just next to some benches where the local grannies usually congregate to do their knitting. I like to sit there and listen to them chattering in Hindi and I also think that them being there helps to ward off any unwanted attention. If there is one force you don’t mess with out here its elderly Indian ladies. Occasionally I have two small friends, Vivek and Mishra, who come and sit with me when it’s a school holiday. They are the grandchildren of one of the grannies and usually run between the grannies’ bench and my seat asking various questions in English about where I come from and what I’m doing in India. I suspect they are sent by the grannies as spies to interrogate me and I’m just waiting for the, do you have a husband and how many children do you have questions to come up. The other day they turned up with accountants’ ledger booksand proceeded to ask me whether I had anywhere to live and could they take down my telephone number. I told them thank you but I already had somewhere to live and thought it wise to give them a fake number. It seems one of the grannies is also running a side business as a broker (UK equivalent of an estate agent without the fancy office and the BMW).I enjoy talking to my two small friends turned entrepreneurs and they only pop up once in a while so I don’t mind when they interrupt my solitude. But today the game was well and truly up. I’d been sat for about 5 minutes reading my book when someone in pink moved into my eye line and then sat on the flower bed wall a metre or so to my right. I continued to read my book but was conscious of the factthat they were sat turned towards me, staring at me whilst I read. I pretended to not notice and continued to read. “I see that you are reading your book!” Damn it. I’d been discovered. I looked up, smiled and nodded hoping that this would be taken as it was intended, a polite but firm, yes Iam reading my book and would prefer to not be disturbed thank you. “Where are you living? What are you doing in India?” Fail.The girl in pink was aptly named Angel and had decided that I would be her confidant for the day. Essentially she wanted to talk to me about boys. Why are all boys cheaters, how do you know if you can trust a boy, what should you do if your parents see you with a boy and get mad, why do married couples sometimes fight, why do boys never think with their brain (her words, not mine!)…the list went on. I attempted to give a few half-hearted answers where I could get a word in, “I suppose not all boys are cheaters, you can trust some of them, some think with their brain…” none of which seemed to be considered very satisfactory. I was quite taken aback as I’d not heard an Indian girl (she was 19) in India speak quite so frankly and openly about men before. In comparison I felt like quite the prude, especially when she mentioned her twelve “most recent” boyfriends.After a while I tried to extricate myself from the conversation and said I really must be getting back to the office.“Ok, we’ll get something to drink.” So we started walking. I said thank you I wasn’t thirsty, she said yes but what do you want to drink and bought me a coke. I said I really must be going, she said yes ok I’ll take your number, grabbed my phone, typed her number in and proceeded to ring her phone from my mobile. “You come to the park every day? I’ll call you when I’m here. If you disconnect I’ll know we’re not friends.” I wasn’t really quite sure what was happening during any of this transaction but I knew that any hope I had of being able to return to the park to readmy book undisturbed was scuppered.I do have one place left. It is quite literally out of reach of most human occupation with just one small rickety ladder leading up to it and a view over all of south Delhi. It is the only place outside of the flat where I can go and feel confident that I won’t be disturbed, but it can only be a matter of time before I’m discovered.