Happy Diwali

So what were you expecting , another starical post :-),
Well On Diwali no , Sethi sahib is really happy today , he is going back home , so everything is happy , joyous and fun.
Sethi Sahib wishes all you guys a very happy and prosperous diwali.
Have a blast and keep smiling.

Cheers to life !
Puneet

TMC's loveletter!

It’s been long that I have posted something, but the fact is, I was constantly searching for the right incidents from the life of Seth sahib’s eventful past that would suit the flavor of this site.

And finally I did manage to get one. This is about a Bong friend that was once a very close part of Seth sahib’s life. As the rule has been, we will not name him but use an acronym for him instead. So let’s refer to him as TMC.

Well one more reason for choosing the “Amaar sonar bangla” guy because Durga Puja is in full swing and so this one goes to all the bongs out there.

Now TMC is very typical Bangla babu moshai . Thin body, thick specs, trying to look more intellectual than he actual is and interested in every damm thing in this world except for the ones on which he has to concentrate. And as with majority of bongs there, he believes in talking a lot, working a little and always taking a stand which by default will be always against the world’s opinion. And like all typical bangla babu moshai’s in Delhi he is studying in JNU specializing in economics. He has just joined the semester but the Bengali blood in him has already made him believe that if there is any Indian (oops Bengali) out here who can take on from Amartya Sen, then it is him. I love his Bengali Optimism and the sheer passion pouring out of every inch of his thin X-rayed frame and thick oil gelled hairs.

But this is not a story about his ideas, his believes but instead, what I am penning down next is a love story. Love story which shows what all men can do to woo their first love love story which shows the intensity of man’s emotions , love story to show how the entire world chips in when you know that’s the love at first sight ……….

It happened around 7 years back, I was in JNU campus to meet TMC. TMC as usual was standing near the Panwallah opposite the JNU main gate and indulging in what he cherishes the most, emptying packs of Navy Cut cigarettes one after another and commenting about what’s going wrong with India and its leadership, India and its cricket team, India and its business community and anything else that you can associate with India. I loved his banter because I knew if in any debate I had spoken against any topic all my points were courtesy TMC.

But suddenly TMC stops smoking and chatting. When these two things stop simultaneously in his life, rest be assured that there is something wrong going around in his world. And I knew what it was; I looked straight and found out the object of his undivided attention. As it happens in lives of all Hindi movies inspired guys it turned out be a girl and to be more precise a typical college girl.

I tried to bring him back to his anti India world but of no avail and I concluded this is one of those serious cases of incurable diseases where the cure lies only in the hands of God Almighty and mortals like us can only provide moral support and daily prayers for the patients.

TMC disclosed he was in love, a concept that was totally incomprehensible to Sethi sahib’s mental frame but since TMC meant business we decided to discuss it over a cup of tea in the canteen. And as we ordered tea we saw the JNU’s union guys coming towards us.

Dressed in long and disheveled, colored Khadi kurtas , and equally long and disheveled beards complete with long jute made jholas (bag) they lived their union image very seriously.

After greeting with folded hands and squeezing us with breath stopping hugs, they inquire if everything was all well. I always wonder how these guys would always be present at the precise moment when a student’s life is going through some major crisis. But since they were India’s political future , I guess it was their job to know about each and every crisis going on in their territory.

TMC told them about this girl with whom he was bitten with love at firs sight bug and as it always happens the girl was totally ignorant or pretending to be ignorant about the whole issue and was not giving any chance to TMC to say his heart pleas apart from occasional Hi’s , byes and side glances. The longest piece of conversation TMC had with her was the two page answer that he dictated to her on some complex micro economic theory.

Anything that is taken up by politicians (budding politicians in this case) becomes the issue of national importance. The case is even worse if you have attended a boozing session with the union guys because then you become part of their brotherhood and entire Union’s strength will always stand by you ,whether you want it or not, in every crisis of your life. As luck would have it both TMC and me were present at one such session (If my family is reading it ---guys trust me I was their but I have never touch alcohol till date).

So everyone was called in, TMC and his friends, Me and my friends, Union members from JNU and DUSU and everyone who wished to be a part of this next love legend in making. Even the canteen’s owner came to the meeting and sponsored the tea and snacks for everyone. After long discussions, it was unanimously decided that a letter would be sent to the girl prophesying everything TMC felt for her.

Union guys took out the official University’s letter pad and students from Arts faculty were asked to come up with best of English phrases. But TMC politely refused their help, accepted just the pad and poured down all his feelings on that JNU’s official letter head.

Well for the first time in history, a love letter would have started with University’s logo on the top and reference number on the top right. The letter was sealed and somebody sprayed his latest deo to make it smell good. (It was an all boys world so no perfumes to sprayJ)

As it’s always a momentous occasion in a boys life when he proposes a woman for the first time, it was decided to begin the event by going to the temple close by and ask for God’s blessings too. The entire troupe Me, TMC, union guys, our friends some 20 -30 guys went to the Kali baari nearby. The Pandit there thought that some wedding Baraat has come there seeing the number of cars, bikes and jeeps in the temple complex. Union guys explained him the situation and he took the letter in his hands and placed it in the thaali for Aarti and did a round of Aarti and Pooja with the letter. He applied tilak and painted swastika on the envelope and distributed Prasad to everyone. Since it was durga puja going on we also roped in the Dhaki , the drum beater and what a party it was everyone dancing on the Dhol , the letter being rotated with the Aarti plate in the temple complex so that every one could bless it and everyone stuffing his mouth with sweets sent by Canteen owner.

The next issue was as to how the letter was to be delivered to the girl and we required some professional help for it. And who else could help us other than the Postman who use to deliver all the letters to the University campus. We all reached the University’s post office and called out for our beloved kaka. Kaka is about to retire and in his last forty years of his service as a postman he has delivered umpteen numbers of letters to all most everyone passing out from the university. But we now see very less of him as Kaka himself says that emails have almost drastically cut down his working hours. Kaka was very happy to see and hear about this all important event. He took the deo scented, swastika marked enveloped in his old but experienced hands and advised that TMC should himself deliver this letter to the girl. But since he admired the respect of us coming to him for his experienced advise , he reciprocated by taking out the read seal from his bag and sealed the letter with official Government of India Seal, Ashoka emblem shining brightly now on the flap of the envelope.

The work was done , The God was with us ( Swastika symbol) , The Government was with us ( The Ashoka emblem) and even the Goons( Union guys with their official letter head) were with us , so when GOD , government and goons are on one side no power on earth can stop the ultimate to happen.

Girl’s classmates have already informed us of her location in the campus and we all decided to immediately go the Books shop at Ber sarai where the girl was coming to get some Xeroxes done.

We reached the place just in time; we all stood near the footpath as TMC moved forward with letter in his hand. Everyone was waiting for that ultimate moment to arrive when TMC would hand over the letter and proposed to that girl and everyone would then jump in some chorus Hindi move number with Girl saying yes to the guy. We Indians do take Hindi movies seriously sometimes.

TMC reached near the girl, we could see his lips moving from the other side of the earth as he gave that blessed letter to the girl. And suddenly the only words we could hear from the lady’s mouth right up to the other side of the road were “TMC grow up”, she mercilessly threw the letter on the pavement and moved away without even opening it up. The three words from her had suddenly changed the entire scene. TMC picked up the letter and quietly moved towards his hostel room, I picked up my scooter and headed back home, union guys were seen reversing their jeeps and canteen owner was back to his stall. No body said a word to anyone and silently everyone got back to his back.

For next one week TMC was not seen in the campus, Union has closed its office for two days as a mark of expressing deep sorrow but the fact that the union office always remain closed except for election time is altogether a different story. Canteen wala also showed his sympathy by removing Today’s Special Item for next few days.

After one week life was usual, TMC was back smoking and Chatting his Anti India views, Canteen resumed its today Special Item , Union guys roamed and hugged freely in the campus. It was discovered that the girl was looking for some top notch economist as her future mate and like all well educated and practical women of today ‘s jet set age she finds it better to be practical than be a romantic in life.

Situation Now

Union guy is standing for the municipality election in Delhi, Canteen Owner has opened a small South Indian restaurant now, Postman Kaka has retired and went back to his village and TMC is now working as a economist in WTO, Geneva and since then has proposed and flirted with many women. He is about to get married now, the Girl is studying at JNU and he tells me she too is very cool and practical about life. But he still keeps that letter with him, still sealed and mildly scented and when he boozes in the night he confesses that he can never experience those same emotions for anyone after that .Neither could we TMC. A lady may get a top notch WTO economist but you never know he might have that secret letter in his drawer which was never meant for her because the one that was meant actually for her might have been thrown on some pavement nearby.

Aati Kya Khandala Part 3

We decided to push off and within next five minutes touched the Bushi Dam. If you are imagining Bushi Dam to be some sort of huge mass of concrete, spread across acres of land from which tones of water oozes down, then as George Bush would have said it, makes no mistake about it, what we had was something drastically opposite. I am still not sure, what we saw was the complete Bushi dam or just part of it but whatever it was , it lived up to its name. A dam hidden in bushes.

As soon as we braked at the base of the dam ,we were surrounded by mass of humanity offering us to take care of our bikes, shoes, helmets and parking space on simple request to have the wada paav and chai on their tea stalls after we came back from our trek to the dam. We parked the vehicles on the roadside in free parking and proceeded towards the climb. Before you can reach Bushi Dam there is a pool of water which you have to cross on feet before you can reach the base of the dam. We folded our trousers, picked up the shoes in our hands and started to walk through the water. It was slippery and cold but we managed to cross it without any acrobatic falls. PNL was questioned on why he didn’t went for the under water photography in the pool. May be PNL camera didn’t supported it, other wise I am sure that photo freak would have done that also and we would be obliging him striking mermaid poses in the water.

We climbed the slippery rocks and reach the top of the dam. There were Tea stalls all around but surprisingly no one inside them. The dam was filled up to the top. It was like looking into the glass filled with water standing on the Brim of the glass. We literally saved our photo man from taking dive into the water as he stood like his favorite mallu hero Mohanlal on the topmost grill of the dam for what else but a photo pose.

The next halt was to be the trek towards the waterfall. We trekked on the slippery rocks, made more dangerous because of ongoing rains. Higu was crying his BGB’s once again as we finally stopped at the base of the waterfall. I decided to lie near the stream as AJ, Higu and PNL went around nature gazing. Lying near the stream and gazing aimless at the monsoon clouds was one great feeling I experienced after many years. Trust me, there could be nothing as soothing as the feeling of staring with empty minds at the sky above

I was suddenly awaken from my peaceful slumber by loud splashing sound of water and when I saw on my left towards the stream , I saw another dam being constructed in the stream . Well, there was a wrestler straight out of WWF arena, bare bodied deciding to take a dip in the minuscule stream. He lied horizontal to the stream blocking the force of gushing water through the sheer strength of his body mass.

By the time, all the three guys hard returned and I saw Higu and PNL discussing something very seriously. I thought some change in plans in our route might be underway and when I reached closer I knew my guess was correct. PNL and Higu had spotted two beautiful ladies, who had come along with their families to the waterfall and both of them were now discussing how the things would take shape, in case their parents decided to give the hands of their daughters to these two John Abrahams. They had agreed upon who will have which lady as their life partners and were now discussing that me an AJ would take train back to Pune and these two guys will be coming on the bikes along with the two ladies. It was height of creative imaginary and heart filled optimism. I knew it, they are stuck with AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) something that bikers and trekkers experience at high altitude and make your mind goes numb. Before the guys could go any further and ask me and AJ to bring their kids also back to Pune, we decided to retreat back to the Bushi Dam base.

The road from Bushi Dam to Lions Point towards Amby valley can be described as the stair case to the clod number 9. Well can’t help it with this comparison, being a Bryan Adam Fan myself. But yes, its undiluted magic to bike along this curvaceous climb to the top of the mountain. Smooth as Silk Road, new shining barricades all along, glittering neon light symbols and cloud falling all over your face, this stretch stirs the poet within you. And it did succeed in arousing the poetic feelings in Higu who with his vast knowledge of slang’s vocabulary came up with following quotes shouting full throttle from the pillion. “Man its plain orgasmic”, “It has touched the bottom of my**”. I knew Higu was having fun and I too was driving pleasure out of the joyous moments that nature can offer you. We have switched on our head lights because of clouds all around us. It was like once again in Delhi with dense fog all around you in winters. We reached Lions Point, it’s a plain spot on the mountain from where you can see the entire valley but because of clouds on the ground nothing was visible. There were many families and tourists al around and makeshift tea stall serving pakodas tea and cold drinks to the people. We stayed their for around 15 minutes and decided to head back towards lonavala. We were in love with the road we cam from and wish to be driving as soon as possible. This entire stretch from the Bushi Dam to Lions point is known as Jal Vayu Marg and is jointly maintained by Indian Air force and Navy. And if you have promised your girl to take her to the cloud number 9, take my advice, a ride on this road will dutifully serve the purpose.

Reaching Lonavala city back we turned towards the highway once again on or way to Khandala.

In Khandala we visited Rajmachpoint and Sunset point which has some real breath taking views of the mountain , waterfalls , the express highway thousands of feet below and off course SRK’s Bungalow. That’s what guide there told us when he charged 5 rupees from all for us to peek at the SRK bungalow from his binoculars. We never knew SRK had four Bungalows in Khandala as all for us saw four different houses from his binoculars. We still don’t know who among is the lucky one to see the real bungalow of SRK.

We plan to head back home as it had started raining and rains on the hills could be real dangerous. PNL was forcibly dragged back as he was still in mode to click some more picks. His second stick of 1288 MB was half filled or In other words still some 100 picks could be clicked. Sensing danger from both PNL and the falling rain, we rushed down before the rains could get us.

We Halted at Lonavala, just to buy chikki for everyone’s homes in Delhi, Mumbai and Kerala and tank up the fuels and then zoomed back to home sweet home.

Any Road back home is soothing and reflective. The road seems easy, the sights seems familiar and even the painful stretch seems to have suddenly become more sober.

Me and Higu touched Pune from khandala in 1.hrs 15 minutes flat. PNL tried once again to overtake us by a giving full throttle chase with his Yamaha, though in his bid to do that he took a wrong turn as a result reached home hours late.

I now stand in front of mirror. Dark eyed, dust covered, tired but extremely happy. One more Journey ended, one more experience gained. What next, a biking trip to Leh perhaps someday. Amen!

Aati kya khandala part 2 .

PNL and AJ join us from behind, PNL waving his hand fanatically asking us for a halt. We stop on a small bridge just below the descent. We are about 40 kms away from Lonavala.

Everyone thought that PNL is once again in Photo session mood as the place where we halted was indeed beautiful .Descent from the hill has just ended, one km of flat stretch and then other long hill in sight to climb. On the left side of the bridge were scenic mountains and on the right side, a long track for railways running parallel to the road. The sight of the crossing train on one side and mountains on the other was amazingly magnificent. The sight was glorified more with PNL standing high up on the bridge barricade and answering the nature calls. I am sure everyone on the passing train enjoyed this sight of being one with nature. After PNL was done with it, he conducted the mandatory photos session and we were off again.

The road after the second descent was surprisingly straight out of the F1 Track. Sometimes life offers you the best only after you have tasted the worst. It was a six lane road with a clear barricade dividing it into two halves. No holes, no bumps , just miles of pure black piece of shiny metal lying quietly as far as your eyes can reach. I started to increase the speed of my bike, 50 -60 -70 – 80 -90, it was sheer fun. The best part about higher CCs bikes like Pulsar is that even at 90 + speed you don’t feel the machine shaking or out of control. It as smooth as it’s on 50 -60.

Suddenly we saw a separate group of 3 bikers overtaking us on the road. Nothing can stir more passion in a biker than the sight of someone overtaking him on the road. Higu gave the war call from the behind. Don’t ask me what because I know you must have guessed what he would have said. Speed throttle was pressed to full. Legs firm on Brakes and we sped off, my bike crossed 90 then 100 and finally for the first time it was touching 110.
A thought crosses my mind, “Speed Kills but it does gives you a ride to heaven”. No doubt it was a ride to heaven. We finally manage to overtake them; they gave us thumbs up sign from the back as the 3 of them turned towards the motel on the highway. The stretch of road ended at the beginning of Lonavala expressway. We stopped there as PNL and AJ were lost far behind.


After about couple of minutes we saw PNL on his Yamaha joining us. Considering the two stroke 100 CC Yamaha he drove it was an applauding performance.

We reached Lonavala city where I guess the only item sold is the Chikki. This sweet delicacy peeks at you from every nook and corner of Lonavala. Everyone from the roadside vendor to the biggest hotel there is hell bent on you to take at least one packet of Chikki back home. But I guess their efforts are genuine as at least one packet of Lonalvala Chikki does deserve to be taken back home on the sheer merit of its taste..

We halt at Maganlal Chikkiwaala , he gave us the map of the place and we decide upon the future route. It is planned that we move towards the Lonalvala Lake for Bushi Dam, from there to Vayu Jal Marg toward the Amby Valley on the way towards Lions Point. From there hit the road back home to Lonavala and from there move towards Khandala to check out Sunset and Rajmachi Points.

We halt at the bridge road over Lonavala Lake. One of the very good photo op sites with Lonavala Lake flowing down under and two huge mountains, turned entirely green because of ongoing rains, joining together at the far end of the road. We stand at the middle of the road with the two huge converging mountains in the background and the Lake beneath us. The way PNL made us pose there with our bikes, each one us was thinking himself to be no less than John Abraham. We did mange to get some admiring glances from the college group trekking towards the Bushi Dam.

Aati Kya Khandala? Part 1

Well I thought really hard what should be the title of today’s post but I guess that’s probably the best one that I could come up, with whatever creativity left in me after measuring 250 Kms of country roads in one single day .

And if you have been thinking this is once again one of those women admiration/deprivation stories that I have been penning off late then I am sorry to disappoint you because what I am planning to write down in next few lines is the account of my first long road biking experience which has nothing to do with being boys or being girls but instead it has something totally manly about it.

I know with use of the phrase being “manly about it”, I may have attracted some of the most twisted glances from my female readers but yes I cant help it, believe it or not when you take on the roads, totally geared , helmet locked, speed throttle zooming on full blast , zip zapping across metallic monsters , where even a slightest judgmental error taken in splits of seconds can leave you with broken jaws and powdered rib cages the only word that can come up in my mind with whatever limited vocabulary I have is simply “manly”.

Please note that during the course of the journey you may encounter certain offensive bikers slang and if you are planning to nail me down on that then forget it because without them any adventurous fun is like “Dal tadka without a laal mirch”. Forgive me for my poorest of the poor creativity with the preceding comparison but you know I have already described the reason for this loss of creativity in the very first paragraph of the post. So if you are ready to eat the dust, face the wind and burn the rubber you are welcome aboard to be the part of one of the most thrilling experiences I had in recent times.

Adventure begins at 7 o clock in the morning when four of us meet at “Prasanna”. It’s the name of the restaurant where we have tried each and every dish available on the menu card in the last two years of our kitchen less existence and yet are every time hopelessly indecisive about what to order, whenever we go there. Translated to English, the name means “Happiness” but to my best of my knowledge nobody has ever left happy from the place after having tasted the food there.

But yes, as the life without a wife must go on, we have finally zeroed down on the only possible edible breakfast of Poha, Sheera, Upma and more Poha, Sheera and Upma, as few of us are really hungry and equally brave enough to go for a second helping and 4 cups of his special Masala tea. Don’t go on the words “Masala tea”, man that Masala could be as lethal as the latest biotech weapons for the first timers. It has made us begged, made us cried, made us screamed to the waiter not to add that special masala to his tea but we are damn sure hearing the begging pleas once again this morning, his dose of sarcastic pleasure is only satisfied unless and until he has made us gulped down that cupful of Masala.

After having survived the breakfast ordeal, we are confident and ready to face any challenge for the journey ahead. The fuel tanks are filled, tiers checked and engines are warmed up and we decide to start off. On the pillion of my pulsar is Higu, my roommate. And on the second bike, Yamaha RX 100 we have PNL and AJ.

Higu has contributed some real good swear words to my vocabulary in the last six months that I have the pleasure of knowing him. We will hear more about them as we move ahead, but yes this guy has unique talent of describing the most beautiful or ugliest creations around him in the best of poetic fashion using words from his infinite vocabulary of choicest of abuses.

The second biker PNL is as enthusiast a guy as his Yamaha RX 100. They both share the same qualities of having small thin light weight frame with quick pick up and an ability to go from zero to 80 and 80 to zero in couple of seconds. I guess they are perfectly made for each other. PNL has jut bought a dig cam and since then has become paranoid about taking pictures of everyone, everything, everywhere and every time. And since the last two weeks of him buying the dig cam, not even a single day has passed since each one of us didn’t had a detailed photo session whenever we have visited his house. He has clicked us watching TV, eating food and even us kicking him when he followed Higu to the loo with his digi cam in hand.

He as already exhausted many GBs of his hard disk hard disk, clicking picture of every dabba, spoon, and dustbin of his house. We genuinely thank god that he bought only a camera to shoot and not a pistol because in that case the entire Pune would have been wiped out by now.

The third man apart from me, Higu and PNL is AJ. Its good that he is the pillion rider behind PNL because if someone who can stop PNL being crazy then he is the right man with his cool as ice cool attitude.

Well the journey begins, with us touching the Bombay Pune Highway. The highway till the express way is cool. No pot holes, no bumpy roads. Even Higu behind me is calm and absorbing himself in the morning breeze. I am flirting with my bike, speeding up in the range 60- 80, just getting used to her sound and feel.

PNL and AJ are following us, on the Yamaha. With monsoon in full swing this time the highway has turned really beautiful. The hills on both the sides have turned green , the air is fresh , sun is playing hide and seek and its all grey up in the sky and soothing green on all the sides.

After moving some 15 km we turn towards the old Mumbai-Pune highway and gradually begin to discover the unique challenge Indian roads can offer to adventurous bikers all around the world. Man! Trust me this adventure tourism can be a big business. The smooth road give way to small bumps, bumps make way for holes and hole after some time transforms themselves to craters and after sometime you realize you are on the surface of planet mars. 15 minutes of ride on the highway and you will encounter one of the biggest patch of crater ridden hole and that too when you are climbing up the hill on your way towards Lonavala. Higu has risen from his morning quiet and has begun to warm up for the occasions with gradually increasing the intensity of his swear words. And then as we reach on pinnacle of the painful stretch where the shockers of my bikes have been put to the maximum possible threshold test, Higu says the biggest of his swear words which he only utters when he reaches the midst of Pune roads on his way to his office .He shouts “Man its BGB, its BGB since morning.” If you are wondering what the hell is BGB , then it is the acronym for words “Balls getting Banged” and trust me when Higu says it in Hindi , its really means we are going through some real painful times. But thankfully we are on the descent and road seems to be gradually improving. Higu also settles down but I could still hear some lighter version of his gaalis from behind. I am happy to have successfully passed over the stretch and it assures me that my confidence on my bike has increased. I am now more in touch with her inner emotions.

2 nights with …………….????

The hopeless romantic that I am, this weekend, I once gain fell in love as one more love story unfurled in my life. With my room mates dispatched for their respective homes in Mumbai and Delhi, and there being no one except for me in the house, I decided to spend the two nights with the most beautiful creation that I had set my eyes about one month ago.

I finally brought her home this Saturday night and since that fateful night I have had just 3 hours of sleep in the last 36 hours trying to discover each and every aspect of her magical mystique.

Well before you get me any more wrong, let me clarify that, I am referring here to one of the best written and well though provoking books that I had a pleasure to read this weekend.

It’s titled Shantaram and is authored by Gregory David. I know this personal blog is not a place to write book reviews, but this 900 + page beauty has touched me in so many ways that any blog on Sethi Sahib will not be complete without a word about this book.

It’s an epic story about a fugitive from Australia, who lands up in Mumbai faking as tourist from New Zealand., starts living in Mumbai slums, runs a clinic for the slum guys, falls in love with a green eyed beauty Carla, Learns to speak Hindi and Marathi, learns the art of black market, drug trafficking, gold smuggling, fake passport making, joins the Mumbai mafia, go to war in Afghanistan and still manages to emerge as a hero for everyone.

Well so much happening in one single life and if you thought it’s just a piece of fiction then mind you this is 90 % real life account of the author who took 13 years to pen down this book. Twice the manuscript of the book was destroyed by the Jail authorities and was again written from scratch. As the author puts it, it’s a story written in pain, blood and sweat. Sheer passion flows through the entire narrative.

The philosophical discussions between Abdul khader, the learned Mafia head and Lin Baba, as the protagonist is known in Mumbai ,about what is life, why we are here, what are our objective and his theory about what is good and bad is a sheer piece of poetic wisdom.

And yes not to forget the lady love of Lin baba, woman named Karla, I am myself smitten by her intelligence and the numerous one liners from her that are quoted and splashed across the book. Sample these “Happiness is a myth that was invented to let us buy things”. “Dreams are places where wishes and fears meet and if your wishes and fears are same it’s called a night mare”. I sincerely hope there is at least one lady with intelligence and charm of Karla in the real word.

And then there are others powerful characters Prabhakar, Johny Cigar, Vikram, and Didier, each one forcing you to sit and reflect on the lessons from their lives.

If you are looking forward to read a sheer piece of super genius creativity and for some profound thinking for your head, do read his book and if you have read it do let me know, I am dying to discuss each and every thought presented there with anyone who have the honor of becoming Lin Baba’s fan.

For more info about the book and author visit

http://www.shantaram.com/

Here are few more quotes from the book for your reading pleasure.

“A man has to find a woman, then earn her respect and finally cherish her trust” Vikram quoting Karla

"It is always hard to love a person you cannot forgive" – Linbaba

“It's such a huge arrogance, to love someone, and there's too much of it around. There's too much love in the world. Sometimes I think that’s what heaven is - a place where everybody's happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever.” Karla

When you are sober, It's the world that's f**ked (there are many more and better ones like this but I guess my blog is a family blog (sic) so read them when you read the book :-))

Sethi Sahib Proposes a woman

Well if you have read a posting about what women think about Sethi Sahib then you must have figured out the enormity of the statement made above and if you have not read it then I would suggest reading it first so that you can enjoy this post even better.

The statement above will have the same level of shocking intensity in Sethi Sahib’s world as the statement of Musharraf saying Kashmir being an integral part of India.

In short, these are something’s that can never happen in Mr. Sethi’s life, but to my surprise it has happened and given below is an interesting account of the story when Sethiji had proposed a women for first and only time.

Well, to begin with I come from a very prestigious university which apart from giving top notch academicians and professionals to Indian society, has also given many of the country’s biggest politicians. Simple reason being, its located in the political centre of India, the student politics too is equally lively. So whether you want it or not after every two months you have thousands of students being taken to Vice Chancellor office to protest against one cause or the other. Many of us don’t even know why we go there because for us it’s a mass get together of all the college students at one place and you have a chance to look at the latest fashion and the hottest chicks on the campus. We call these bi monthly outings as Dharna.

So on one such Dharna, Sethi sahib along with one of his friend nicknamed Kaadu by his classmates decided to go there. Kaadu is a tall, dark guy and had dressed himself handsomely for the occasion. After all, it was in such Dharna outings, you got to meet gals from other colleges. Kaadu was looking for lady luck to smile on him and Sethi Sahib as usual were interested in the eloquent speaker and his speech.

Suddenly, something stuck in Kaadu’s mind, I would not say stuck but instead hit his mind like a thunderbolt. He turned to me and announced, “I have got enough of your anti –women stance. Today you will have to propose a girl and find out a bhabhi for me”. I turned to Kaadu, are you crazy man? I thought for a while, “21 years and without a woman have taken serious toll on Kaadu’s mental abilities”. But he was serious, damm Serious. He has pledged not to let me go before he has found a girl for me. I don’t know what made him do that but yes he gave me every reason on the earth to have a girl friend in the next half an hour ,screeching at the top of his voice quoting from Adam’s Garden to SRK’s latest flick. The crowd which till now was hearing what the Union’ President was saying, had now suddenly turned and staring towards us. Before things go more awry I gave in to Kaadu’s demand and told him “OK for our friendship sake I give in, but you have only my name to use and rest everything will be taken care of you”. Kaadu’s expression changed as if he has taken the Tiger Hill back from the Pakistani Army. He was ecstatic and immediately proceeded to make arrangements for this historic event.

The first step was to identify a lady or as Kaddu would say a Bhabhi for him. From hundreds of female present there he selected a fair looking smart lady that I would have to propose. The lady was wearing a red cheque shirt and blue jeans. What stuck me most about her were her Nike shoes and believe me the shoes were really good.

One of the most expensive pair I have ever seen. Anyways shoes apart Kaadu now wanted me to write a letter to her. I simply told Kaddu, “boss this is your show, you will have to do everything and I have only my name to give you. And moreover if I write, I bet nobody on this earth would be able to understand what I have written because of my amazingly bad hand writing.” Kaadu got the point, he immediately arranged for a paper, pen and wrote a letter that would have put even Dan Brown to shame in writing cryptic puzzles. Sample the contents below “I know u r the best and best deserve the best but what about the rest who wish to have the best but have to put the dreams to rest because they themselves are not the best.” There was much more crap like that but I will stop here as I don’t want this post to be torturous for my dear readers.

Anyway with girl being identified and letter written by Kaadu and signed by me ready, it was now the time for delivery of the letter. Kaadu started marching towards the lady, a la Aamir khan in movie Mangal Pandey. He handed over the letter to the lady and then pointed the lady towards me. And before I could grasp what was happening , I saw Kaadu running like hell towards the scooter parking , he was waving fanatically towards me and asking me to do he same . I sensed something dangerous and I too made a rush towards the parking lot and what I saw there was something that can take a shit out of man. Kaadu was being chased by a Dark heavily built man. His unkempt long hairs were falling on his heavily pimpled face as he rushed towards Kaadu with a iron chain in his hand. That Boxer looking man was that lady’s boyfriend and when I turned back, I saw two similar clones of that boxer closing towards me.
I ran like mad, Kaddu by now has started his Baja Chetek, I still wonder how the hell he started that rickety piece of metal in single kick which till date has required at least 20 kicks and equal number of swear words to start. But I guess when it’s a question of life and death you got to make things work. Kaddu Skidded the scooter in front of me, I jumped in the pillion and speeded away from the campus. It was only after one year that we gather the confidence to return to main campus for a new Dharna meeting.

What Women feels about Sethi Sahib!

I have met many women in my life, I won’t say all type of women because it is very difficult to find a different women but I am happy that I have met some of that kind too

But this post is not about women, it’s about what feedback Sethi Sahib has received from women about being Sethi Sahib.

Let’s start from the child hood.

In school, I was the biggest rival girls could always get. I thought I was always third in class because the first two were girls. The only reasoning my young thinking mind could garner was that we being boys we have lots of work after school, like going to play cricket, drive cycles around the society and occasionally going to the market to bring eggs and bread for the snacks in the evening . Now with such kind of work load how a boy could ever think to come first in the class while girls just have to go home and have nothing else to do but only studies.

Also I have never met a women with a bad hand writing till date , one reason could be that my hand writing is so pathetic that every handwriting in comparison to mine will look like most beautiful piece of calligraphic work.

So with two biggest handicaps: Busy workload and Bad handwriting, I could never come first in my class and beat my female counterparts (literally I felt like beating them). It was at that point of time that I decided to beat my female rivals in other fields. So whether it was debates, poetry recitation, Speech competition Sethi Sahib was always there fighting till the very end, screeching , yelling , talking and emerging victorious in one competition after another.

Girls use to hate when they would see my name in the participant list. So at that point of time when my peers had girl friends, I had girl enemies. There was an entire gang of them .So this was some of the privilege compliments I got from my female batch mates snooty, proudy (I still don’t know, why women think being proud is something wrong:-)). One young lady even called me Shitty Sahib.

And then I graduated to college. In college women found me as a high headed fellow and the problem was they never came to tell me this , It was always some of my friends who were told such things about me so that they could be passed to me indirectly .

I had built a strong reputation over the years and like light flashes before the sound in a thunderstorm, stories from my past preceded me wherever I go.

I am working now and today I don’t even care when women refer me as narcist or more creative ones like some one suffering from Bhaau Khaau personality syndrome but what amazes me is guys have always found me diametrically opposite. Please don’t think about it in some other over tones, I am a perfectly straight guy but now it’s high time to find a woman for myself.

And I am seriously worried about the consequences. What could be the consequences ill post in some other blog :-)Till then enjoy reading ….

Why Sethi Sahib ?

Why SethiSahib? This question I have been trying to answer ever since I have set up this blog of mine. And what a better place than the blog itself to demystify it.

Well to answer this let me take you some 20 years down the line when I was around 6 years old and the only time I ever had a girlfriend.

Well I don’t exactly remember about her ( boys will be boys after all :-)) but my grandmother has done her level best in the following years that this story is made available to each and every homo sapiens she was acquainted on planet earth. I know if she would have known Yash Chopra, we would already have SRK enacting my role.

Well according to reliable sources her name was Monika Behl and my parents tell me she was crazy like anything about this six year old stud. We use to travel everyday in the same Tonga to school and according to my mom, I use to buy her Churans, candy’s after the school gets over. It amazes me how every mom keeps track of how much money her son spend on his woman. But yes, what a rich man I use to be in those days. Chauffer driven Tonga, pocket full of money and a girlfriend for company.

And then one day I could not make it to school, this lady got panicked and came running to my house and met my grandmother to ask her about my where abouts. Indeed she was crazy about me :-)

Standing akimbo on the door she asks angrily to my Grandma “Where is Sethi Sahib”
Grandma replied “He has gone to office” ,thinking she was asking about my father. The lady then said, “Not yours but mine Sethi Sahib”. What a romantic line , i cold have given anything for it but yes also an apt example of how possessive a lady can get about her man. My grand ma was so happy and proud of her lineage. The boy in the house has made her first girl friend and that too at tender age of six, breaking of all previous records of bringing your girl friends home. From then on the word “Sethi Sahib” stuck with me.

I have very beautiful first name and I am really proud of that but in last 2o years since that fateful morning I have been called in various flavors of my surname. Some call me Sethi sahib or Sethi sahab ,some takes it a tone lighter with Sethi ji or Sethi sir , office mails have me as Mr. Sethi and for close friends its plain vanilla Sethi .

So I have decided to dedicate this blog to all those who have ever addressed me by my surname.
And now if you are wondering what happened to the first lady of my life then to disappoint you all even I don’t know about her. My parents got the hint of things to come and they promptly shifted the residence to some other place within 3 months of that incidence and since then I live my life with the new identity she has christened for me.

That heavenly glow

Day is about to end
Winter breeze begins to flow
Cool, moist it’s a full moon night
Descends down, that heavenly glow

Freeze I am,
Falls from sky fractals of snow.
The search gets end, I tell myself,
Staring at that heavenly glow

Gold and yellow the colors she has
Warmth I missed begins to grow.
Magnificent, mysterious, magical she is
Covers me that heavenly glow.

I feel myself, myself she is,
A musical silence begins to flow.
Of flowers she smells, I feel so pure,
Made me complete that heavenly glow.

Years

Dawn strikes in sky,
Night is about to leave.
A year has just come to an end,
Another just begin to conceive

This year I never saw you,
But I watched you million times.
Every second that the clock hand moved,
You were imprinted on my mind.

This year I never touched you,
But I felt you million times.
Every time the sun spread it rays,
I found your warmth, in bright sun shine.

This year didn’t had your dark dense hair,
Neither had it had your pearl like eyes.
But like your darkest curls, night breeze covered my face,
Your pearls I saw, in stars up in sky

This year we did talked a lot,
We spoke some million times.
With words alone we built a small secret world,
In which I became yours and you became mine

Another year stands in front of us
This year, and year’s ahead even words might not come,
But deep down, our souls somewhere, a bond is formed
That shall always keep us one.

Roti Kapda Makaan & Bandwidth :


“India needs Roti , Kapda , Makaan & Bandwidth”, proclaimed a leading Indian daily. “Bandwidth ?” I thought for a while. I agree that the wedding season is in full swing and it’s a possibility that all the Marriage Bands in town are heavily booked but I had never imagined that this problem would have taken such an enormous proportion that the next thing people want after Roti , kapdaa and Makaan from Government of India would be bands for their marriage.

Even before I was able to come terms with it, my sixteen year old cousin came rushing and snatched the newspaper from my hands. “He is so cute naa!”. I thought she was referring to Hrithik at the back page but I was surprised when she pointed out to the photograph of the person responsible for the shocking headline above.

I have seen this guy. Yes! believe me, despite his huge side locks hiding every inch of his face . He has appeared in many other magazines and newspapers too, always demanding something or the other from the Government and this time this IT man has asked for bands for his wedding? After all he is one of the most eligible bachelor in the Indian IT industry as my cousin just told me.

“ So the whole thing is concerned with computers”, I said to myself and decided that its time for me to explore them. Not the cream colored box on my desk but instead Common Persons Understanding of Technology Emerged Recently.

And as I stepped out my eyes fell on the mouse pad lying on the table with lines “Even Lord Ganesha goes around the world on a mouse” printed on it. “ A good omen! ”, I said to myself. So gods too knew few things about computers and thus its high time for me to move ahead with this world.

Next day standing on the bus stop suddenly the person standing next to me questioned, “Are you trying to learn computers?” Shell shocked I stared at him. Is he the Lord Ganesha himself? Or a great saint just back from Kumbh?” I pondered or how else he knows what was going inside my mind. As I was about to fall on his feet I asked him “ How do you know my Lord?” Calmly he replied,” It’s a national hobby these days. Everyone is doing it.”
These words of wisdom could have come from the mouth of saint only.

I looked around and found two young men engaged in a heated conversation. The only words I was able to retain from the lengthy conversation were JAVA & H1B. I tried to clarified but the CV’s in their hands said “Languages Known: C,C++” and unfortunately I could communicate in English Hindi and Punjabi only .Perhaps JAVA was some kind of cult whose followers were blessed with H1B. Heaven Bound 1st, I suppose or in other words a quick way to Nirvana.

Totally bewildered I quickly boarded the bus and moved out. At the red light halt, I came across a board which said Your Government moves to E-Governance. ‘E’ was a grade which I use to get when I failed in my exams and I always rated the Government with the same grade . Whenever I see the deteriorating conditions of the city. But never in my wildest of dreams I could have imagined that the Government would accept it and that too with such a zeal that the whole city would be painted with boards proudly displaying the grade .

Totally confused I gazed around, a sticker in front of me read tavel@yourownrisk. And once again I encountered what else but the foray of Information Technology in everyday life or maybe the ultimate death I should say. Even the confines of a blueline bus were not spared.

And as I moved down , from the bus I knew computers are here to stay and India for sure needs Roti Kapda Makaan and Bandwdth , meaning of which I still don’t know.

SD

I will be failing in my duty if I deprive my readers from meeting another peculiar habitant of my society

We all call him SD. Please don’t confuse him with legendary musical director SD Burman whose songs have mesmerized many generations of Indians, In fact he has nothing to do with music in hundreds of kms of his existence but yes this chap is capable enough to take music out of your life anytime anywhere.

Factually SD is the initials of his name Savant Dhavle but they are also acronyms for Hindi word “SavDhaan”. Translated to English which means “Beware”.

SD is a 5 year old man. To anyone new in the society he seems to be an innocent looking kid, merrily idling away his time in the by lanes of the flats, looking with insatiable curiosity to the outside world. But that’s where his line of innocence ends.

And please note that look in his eyes is not of curiosity towards the world but if you ask an experienced guy like me, it’s the “I am a psycho, looking for my next victim” kind of look

And if you are wondering by now what’s so murderous about this five year old man, then imagine the following Scenario.

You enter a beautiful society. Near the garden you see a very innocent looking child with big dark eyes; hairs properly gelled with oil, busy in his own world. You remember your own childhood and magically you are pulled towards this chap. You say “hello” to him and that’s where your happiness ends as you have nailed the first nail in your very own coffin.

SD warms up and comes running towards you. He opens up his mouth with a mischievous grin and will begin with explaining some of the observations he has made in the last 24 since he has met you. You feel ok I can handle it. By this time he would have grasped your hand and would you drag to each and every coroner of the society elaborating upon all his philosophical thoughts. You still feel you can take it but now the sound of his voice starts climbing new heights, his pitch become shirker and words come out at a much rapid phase. You forget why you actually came to this place. SD will now be in full swing, even his language would change now, Language that no mortal can ever dare to understand and by any chance of luck, if you might try to do that, trust me you are doomed.

You try to move away from this words guzzling monster, but this monster won’t release you from his crutches, bombarding you with his meaning less but equally lethal words, sentences paragraphs pages and whatever lava his volcanic mind can produce. Finally you shrug away his hands with whatever energies left in your body and simply run away. SD will give you an athletic chase till the very gates of the society and as soon as you are out he will again suddenly transform himself into that innocent looking kid look, waiting patiently for his next victim.

It is said our society is one of the safest in the City. Its not that we employ one of the most sophisticated security systems available or we have the smartest of guards. But it’s because we have SD. There are many legends how SD drove away many of the furious thieves by bombarding them with the nucleic bomb of his explosive tongue. People in the society have also dedicated a song for SD: “Who Let the SD out?”

And Can you Believe it SD has developed special affliction towards me. I don’t even have to say hello to him. He waits for me every evening on the society’s gate. As soon as I get down from my bus and enter the building SD leashes out his entire day’s arsenal on me. I run for cover, towards my flat and SD gives me a full throttle chase. Finally I bang my door on his face a before I fall on the floor inside, deprived of all my bodily powers. And this happens to me everyday.

Books, Bike and Bachelorhood

Today I shall discus about an alpha bet which has been the most influential force through out every turning point of my life. And it’s not Ekta Kapoor’s “K” but it’s my very own “B”

I am sure if Ekta Kapoor read this piece, next time you will switch on your TV sets it will not be “Kyonki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi” but instead “Bahu kyonki saas bhi thi” or may be “Bahu bhi thi Kabhi saas”, or whatever crap she tries to package in most expensive Kanjivaram sarees on TV, the only funda being it will be “B” that would rule the list now.

Well to Begin with, my entry to this crazy planet was termed as “Birth” and I was launched here as “Boy” and boy I knew then and there that this alpha bet will play some important role in years to come.

And then I was “Brought up”. I n school my favorite grade was “B”. No matter how much I tried I was always stuck with that wonderful “B” s and there came a time when I realized that “dude even if you are the only one in class you will always land up getting “B””.

Like every growing boy, at one point of my life, I too desired of having a girl friend but surprisingly I would always land up in company of boys. Mine was a coed school but in the entire school mine was the only class sans any girl.

And then someone pointed out the word “girl” starts with “g” and the letter “B” of boys will always over power the humble “G”. I was destined to become a Bachelor, and you guessed it right, I did become a real good one.

In college I tried getting to “Arts but I landed up perusing “BE”. The B was now my constant companion and then I finally decide to have someone special in my life and I was happy her name started with B. Yes finally I fell in love and these were my Books. And unlike girls I can have them as many as I want without a complain from even single one of the.
Like all beautiful girls , they looked extremely inviting on the shelf and then once you start reading them page to page , uncovering the hidden mysteries you realize only one in ten was worth your time and attention.

It was time to enter the Buck making phase of my life and I knew before hand that apart from the receptionist on the door, it will be all guys world for me and how closer to truth I was, but this time even the receptionist was a heavily built male security guard. Good “G” was still eluding me.

But now I had a second lady in my life. I know you by now would have realized that it won’t be any real women but yes this time I was content having one unlike my polygamous existence with my Books.
It was my Bike.Her Beautiful Black Bulky Body would drive me crazy every time I ride on her.

My job Band was “B”, My appraisal rating showed “B” and even the most sought after onsite opportunity to US of A was not for me as I knew the only place I could go would be “ Bangladesh”, “Burma” and “Bhutan”.

I was coping up Bravely with all the Bs in my life and then I met a Buddhist monk who made a prophecy for me. “So what if you can’t have G for “girl friend” but one day you will have a most Beautiful, Bright, B for “Biwi” and from that day you will be a free man”

I hope the day comes soon but for now I am content with my Books Bike and Bachelor hood.

Yeh Dilli Hai -Part 2 :

Dellhiwallhas: And now few words about the people. It’s said that 50% of Delhites are VIP’s and rest 50% are known to VIP’s. A typical Delhi wallah is aggressive competitive, believe in getting the work done ( By any means off couseJ ) and loves to celebrate life in his own way by public display of wealth ,and emotions. He is open to everyone irrespective of caste, creed, region or religion the bottom line being it’s should be profitable for everyone.
The zeal, the highly energy levels and happiness from within is unmatched and he lives on the motto of work hard and party harder.
Another particular trait of Delhi Guys is their quest for networking, so next time u meet a Delhi wallha outside Delhi , probably the first question you would hear would be , “ Any more Delhi guys around here?”J
Politics : Well if Mumbai lives by Sensex then Delhi definitely lives by Sanasd . It’s a national hobby of every Dilliwala to dissect analyze and comment upon latest geo political scenarios and as mentioned above half of the Delhi population is VIP and rest are know n to a VIP every political move is taken close to heart J

Climate and Culture : Delhi is a city of extremes , If its summer , you sweat like the newly Inaugurated Dam with water rushing out from every pour of the body , And when its cold , the only difference you can find between the south Pole and Delhi is absence of Snow
There is no other feeling like sitting in A Rajai and sipping red hot Tomato soup and discussing India’s Politics with TV switched on at Full volume and a news reader reading out the entire day’s news in the back ground.
And in summers, taking a nap under the dense shade of a Neem tree in a community park ,after savoring safeda aam and playing a tiring match of cricket.

And some words about culture:, Its amalgamation of people from different region section and levels of society . Punjabi Boastfulness exists equally with the South Indian Intellect. Anyone who comes here become a Delhiwallah. Delhi is for everyone.

Delhi Music: Punjabi Pop rules, Karan Johar’s flicks sell like hot cakes, SRK is God and despite recent likings to English Rock , pop and Jazz .Venga Boyz and Daler still rules the wedding bands. In fact inclusion of any song in a Delhi Wedding band is the greatest honor the piece of music can get from people of Delhi

Delhi Weddings : One must attend at least one Delhi wedding in his life time.
They are the 5 days extravaganza , it begins with Kirtan or Jagran (A whole night public broadcast of your religious allegianceJ) , then there are ceremonies with peculiar names like Mehndi ki Raat , Mundoyoon ki Shaam( bachelor’s night) followed with wedding Baraat and ending with a reception with wine dine and dance.
Pages can be written about these wedding but one must watch out for specially Delhi Wedding Bands , mixing with ease Punjabi Pop and songs from latest bollywood block busters. “Taqila” and “Yeh desh hai veer jawanoon ka” are mandatory numbers
And At the end of the Barraat is a Maruti Omni van usually Driven by some one known as shoki, vickki or Bunty and has unlimited supply of liquor.
People come to back pep themselves up and go in front and dance till they drop in the front and then come back again .Also Never miss a sight of overweight ladies loaded with heavy weight ornaments moving hapzardly in 2 meters of radius in a zig zag fashion and describing these elegant movements as dance ,But yes it is something to be loved and admired for its sheer innocence and happiness.

To Conclude, Delhi is like a Bollywood superstar lot of show biz , lot of glamour, layers of makeup , multiple role plays , shades of white and shades of green , A couple of flops and number of hits but in the end even the bollywood star turns out to be a simple human in the night on his bed and do note that Delhi goes to bed a bit earlier than rest of India J.

Yeh Dilli hai - Part 1:

Delhi Food: One must have heard of the famous phrase Delhi belly”( Well I also proudly possess one :-)) , and the reason The Delhiwallas get their famous bellies is attributed to the delicious food that you are able to savor . Whether its mouth watering Kachauris, Bathure chholes and samosas or the famous Delhi Chaat, Delhi is definitely a Mecca for the food lovers

Special mention is also reserved for the sweets that Delhi offers to its food lovers. How can one forget The Ras malais, Dhoda and the Hot Gulab jamuns?

And the best part is its omnipresent availability. You walk out and chances are real hot that within 100 meters from your origin you would find a resta urant, a Hotel or a road side dhaba catering to your taste buds well within every kind of budgets. In fact Delhi’s Dhaba a culture is unmatched. Hot spicy Veg and non veg food, a chilled glass of lassi and Punjabi pop blaring at the highest decibel levels from a rickety stereo is definitely a out to heaven experience. If you are Food Connoisseur like me, grab the first opportunity to feast on royal Delhi Feast


Delhi Girls: Well going back to Delhi, has once again filled me with confidence that there is no dearth of beautiful girls in India and despite nearing 25 I still stand a good chance of getting married to a Soni Delhi Kudi.

Delhi Girls are one of the most beautiful creations of God you can relish on earth. The honor specially goes for the Punjabi Kudis, some of them may be low on the brains, and high on Ekta Kapoor serials but yes when it comes to dressing up no one can beat them.

I develop a special liking for the “ in fashion” Punjabi Salwars and low rise Kurtis
Another one that swapped me off the feta was a lady dressed in complete white colored chicken churridar Salwar and Kurta and a red colored Jaipuri chunni with it , A la kajol from KKHH. (Thanks to my Mom for telling me the names of the materialsJ)


Delhi as a City: The most admirable thing about Delhi is its openness . Mumbai has everything but it looks like that everything is stuffed in a cramped box , unlike Delhi where it is more spread out and open . The other thing noticeable apart from Metro gradually covering the landscape of Delhi are its the play grounds and parks .Even the flat in which I stay is surrounded by 2 green play grounds and huge community park spread in acres of land , now that kind of luxury you cannot ask for in place like Mumbai

Delhi is changing , its landscape the multitude of fly overs , the Spread of metro , the dwindling Blue line private buses but one thing that should change but is not happening is Delhi’s traffic
Nobody loves to Drive in the right way , its Ayan rand visible on the Road every where , “Me first”, without any concern to the fellow travelers , there is never a time I have gone back home and had not got a dent or two in my now aging Maruti 800 .

If u have driven on a Delhi road and not got stuck in the JAM ( Now restricted to few places) and not got your vehicle dented and missed out having a verbal duel with fellow road revelers , your Trip to Delhi remains incomplete