Mirza Ghalib, brought to you by Skeets

Ye to kaha ki unke aur humare zayke kaafi mel khate hain, par ye na kaha ki hum unki haveli ki kuch jhalakon ko qaid kar le aaye.

On one of my 'off' days, officially and mentally, I walked down Gali Qasim Jaan at Ballimaran, Chandni Chowk, to have a dekko at Ghalib's Haveli. Nah, I am no fan of his, just general curiosity and search of solitude took me there. I reached Chandni Chowk by car, got off, hired a rickshaw (just for the fun of it), and reached Gali Qasim Jaan. The rickshaw-puller kept pedalling his (read our) way forward, and I remained mum, awestruck (as always) by the old world charm. Mouth open, eyeballs out like that of a frog's, whiskers up, Skeets must've made quite a picture. Haha. Heee. Gawddd. I have noticed this before, that when I go to places of particular interest, I tend to forget that I have a tongue, and that I can speak. If there are people with me, they think I am unfriendly, or perhaps plainly uninterested.

His last photograph

That day, thankfully I was alone. And as I rode past the narrow lanes of Ballimaran, a gong rung somewhere in my head and it struck me that I would have to ask for the directions. Lost in the rustic charm of that part of Dilli, I had reached way ahead of my destination. People were friendly enough to guide me and my rickshaw-puller to the Haveli. The Haveli, as I gathered from my 1-hour stay there, was where Mirza Ghalib stayed during the last phase of his life. What is interesting is that he stayed there as a 'tenant'. Only a part of the Haveli remains now, as it has undergone quite a bit of alteration and demolition since Mirza Ghalib's death. Thanks to the efforts of the Delhi Government, some portions of the Haveli have been turned into a Memorial in remembrance of the great Poet.

Chandni Chowk mein CHAPPAL...

...toot gayi.

Legwork down the gallis of Old Delhi can be highly intoxicating. Like a kid has to be dragged out of a toy shop, I dragged myself out of Chandni Chowk. After having done the business I had there, no matter how hard I tried, I found myself not budging an inch. Awed, I was, to be in those constricted byways of Purani Dilli.

It was a first visit in ages. A lot has changed, and still, a lot remains unaltered. I admit, if I have to go there daily, I'd choke. Yesterday's visit was an impromptu one. And the pleasure derived from it, is inexplicable.
There she was, shopping for her wedding outfit. I knew she wanted me to be there. And with a single click I popped there. The mammoth task got over in I think a little over five hours (which according to me was super-quick). We were at this shop 'Anarkali', where this sales-boy was putting in all his might to sell us his stuff. Having tolerated him for quite some time now, when the decision (regarding the outfit) was finally made, I was most eager to leave the shop. And it was then that he caught hold of us again. He called to her in the tone of a whisper and with a chuckle he said Ik gal dasan hun twhanu...Ai na Jiju nu na dikhana! Una leyi enu surprise rehn dena (Lemme tell you one thing....Don't show the dress to your fiance, let it be a surprise for him). Quite nonsensical, but then that is their modus operandi, and that is how they 'think' they make loyal customers. Also shopped for some Indian sweets for Mr.P.
On the way back, I was left alone for the 5 minute walk to the metro station that I managed to stretch to about 30 minutes. Couldn't help gazing around me. The garmi did not seem to deter me from admiring the place. Neither did the overcrowded streets. Though on more than one occasion I did find myself swearing aloud at passers-by. And then, Chandni Chowk mein CHAPPAL toot gayi.
There is no such thing as a free lunch, but then one thing you really can get free in India is free advice. Girls tend to get a lot of it. In the Metro, if I prefer to stand some mudblood would say "madam baith jaaiye" and presently, when my footwear malfunctioned in the midst of the busy street of Chandni Chowk, this old chap says "pick it up in your hand" and some more blah that I didn't even care to hear. Huh! Guess he wanted me to walk barefoot on the muddy, animal waste laden streets. Anyway, this old chap, giving free advice got what he deserved by way of verbal action from me. I don't mean to be rude, but then I am fiercely rude when it comes to men trying to act superior in any way.
Anyway, the journey continued and I have promised myself a longer lasting trip to Chandni Chowk as soon as I get the next best opportunity. For, I was amazed to find a big McDonalds' outlet standing there, trying to lure customers from the paranthewalas.
The rest needs to be explored.