Delhi - Gurgaon Trip

Day 1 Evening (14-Mar-2014) – Reaching Gurgaon

“Air India announces the departure of its flight AI840 to Delhi. All the passengers are requested to proceed for boarding via gate number 24A. I repeat, Air India announces…” the speaker blared over the hustle of the people at gate 24A at the Rajiv Gandhi International Airport in Hyderabad. I tore my eyes away from my father’s mobile phone and looked up at my parents. My mother gave me instructions with her eyes to get up. We hurried over to the counter where a security guard was checking the passengers’ boarding passes and letting them pass.

“Ah! Thank goodness! I’d thought that the flight had been delayed yet again,” my mother said, relieved.

“It is Spice Jet, which always delays, and not Air India,” I reminded her.

“I still remember the day when the Spice Jet flight we had to board to Coimbatore was held up for FOUR SOLID HOURS because of some reason,” my father piped in, “God! What a nightmare that was!”

“Nevertheless”, I said, smacking my lips “their food was good!”

“You may proceed to the flight, sir”, the guard finalised, after checking our boarding passes.

Five minutes later, we were seated in the aircraft, tying our belts.

“Manikkutta, it would be better if you would take a nap”, my mother advised me.

“Mother, don’t even think of me being sick”, I pleaded, “I've grown up”.

“Yeah, you could watch a movie”, my father said, pointing at the screen in front of me, “There will be movies in different languages from which you can choose. All you have got to do is plug the earphones provided into the audio port on the armrest.”

And saying that, he sat at the perfect angle, shut his eyes and went off to sleep.

“Let me also take a nap, Manikkutta”, my mother said and following the same steps as my father, she too fell asleep.

Meanwhile, I switched on the television and browsed through the channels and settled on “Bullet Raja” on channel number 8. I plugged on the ear phones and watched the movie with interest. After a short gunshot-filled hour, at 8 PM, dinner was served. I quickly woke up my parents. We had the choice of having vegetarian or non-vegetarian food. I chose non-vegetarian without a second thought. When I opened my box, I felt confused whether they served me vegetarian.

“Which one of these is supposed to be chicken curry, ma’am?” I asked the air hostess who served the food.

The air hostess’s face turned red.

“Uh, well, both curries look identical”, I stammered

“Manikkutta, shut up” my mother whispered angrily, and turning to the hostess, she said “I am sorry, he was…”

“Humph”, she walked away angrily without listening to my mother’s explanation. There is one thing you notice with the air hostesses of Air India. They have a frustrated and serious face always and never smile.

“My dear boy, why do you have to open your mouth unnecessarily?” my father said outraged

“Do not talk while eating”, I said with my mouth stuffed with food

“All right, do whatever you wish to”, he said and opening his box, furiously attacked his food. The remainder of the journey was spent with anger in the air.

The anger stored up within us vanished into thin air when we arrived at terminal 3 of Delhi’s IGIA (Indira Gandhi International Airport). We could only gape at our surroundings as we passed aero bridges, automatic travelators, carpeted floors, statues and malls. We hurried towards the conveyor belt. While waiting for the luggage, my mother even posed for a photo in front of a display where an Oracle Server advertisement was screened. After collecting our luggage we headed out of the airport.

I first caught sight of Smitha auntie with a smile lingering on her lips. Standing behind was Sujith uncle, her husband and my father’s classmate in Engineering College, and Rahul aka Appu, their only son and also a great friend of mine. It was in their house we were going to stay during our trip. Despite our friendship, I felt shy to interact with Appu. That is a starting trouble I always wanted to overcome. Though my parents were urging me to talk with Appu, not much of interaction happened between both us, for that day.

Sujith uncle seated us in his Corolla Altis and drove us out of the parking lot. I was astonished to know that there were six levels of parking and 4300 cars could be parked at any given point of time. As we tried to drive ourselves out, Sujith uncle was bombarded with suggestions from Smitha auntie and Appu.

“Sujith, turn left!”

“Father, that way!”

“Appu, shut up!”

“Mother, you are confusing him!”

“Sujith, Sujith, take a U turn!”

“I don’t think so; we should take a right turn here!”

After a few hundred suggestions, we finally wound our way out of the airport. At the entrance / exit gate, a security guard asked us for the parking ticket.

“I don’t have any parking ticket!” Sujith uncle exclaimed

“Then you have to go back , pay and get the parking ticket...” he said and then stopped after looking at the expression Sujith uncle bore “Uh, sir?”

“N-Nothing” he said “Here we go back to the mazes” he muttered under his breath.

“Please take a right turn here!” the security guard gave his piece of suggestion

“Mother”, Appu shouted “Why didn’t you listen to me when I told to take a right turn at that place? We could have saved so much time!”

“And patience” , Sujith uncle muttered.

After buying a ticket, making it out of the airport again, and showing our ticket to the security guard, we were finally free to head towards 1C, Tower 9, Central Park 2, Sohna Road, Gurgaon.  Smitha auntie seemed very excited to meet my parents. Four of the grown ups kept talking, while two of us just remained silent listeners.

 On our way, we passed a lot of big and new looking complexes, seeing which Smitha auntie changed the subject of the talk. “That is DLF’s head office and that one is Nestle’s. This one’s Deloitte and on your right you can find the head office of Barti Airtel. Did you know that there is a special metro named ‘Rapid Metro’ which covers only the DLF townships? Oh that one is…”

I started nodding off due to the drone of the car’s engine, and fell asleep.

I woke up to my mother’s shaking. “Wake up Manikkutta, we have reached!”

I got out blinking my eyes. Despite my sleepiness, I have to admit, their complex looked fabulous. There were many towers apart from the tower 9 in which they live.  Several street lamps lightened up the whole area. The surroundings were futuristic looking, so green. I felt like I was dreaming. I walked drowsily along with them to the lifts, which took us to the first floor. Smitha auntie opened the door and ushered us into the living room.

“The interior is no exception”, I thought.

I felt attracted by the recliner set in the living room; where I laid down to continue my sleep. But Smitha auntie stopped me from doing so, by shouting, “Manikkutta! No! No! Don’t sleep! I made Palak Paneer for you!”

I really wasn’t in a mood for another dinner, but at the mention of Palak Paneer, I really couldn’t stay put. I quickly got up, washed my face with freezing water (Yikes!) and seated myself at the dining table. Smitha auntie disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a platter full of rotis and a bowl full of yummy Paneer curry. When it was served, I gobbled down the delicacies in no time, and even asked for a second helping. After completing my dinner, as I sat rubbing my tummy in satisfaction, Smitha auntie brought in another platter which revealed a delicious looking chocolate cake. I tasted it, and after doing so, I could not stop myself from having two more helpings (by the way, I managed  to finish eighty to ninety percent of the cake single handed , before we returned to Hyderabad)

With a full tummy, my eyes started feeling heavy and as I crashed onto the bed, I saw both the set of parents getting ready for a long debate on the current affairs and Appu rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn.

“Sujith, how was AAP’s rule in Delhi…”

Day 2 (15-Mar-2014) – Exploring Delhi Metro and Delhi Haat

When I woke up today, I felt blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the window. The whole room buzzed with warmth. Slowly, as my eyes started getting used to the sudden light, I could make out my father at the other end of the bed. He was chatting animatedly with someone on the phone. I could catch few words “Gurgaon…yesterday…Sujith’s house…wonderful…”. When he saw me, he smiled at me and mouthed ‘Good Morning’ and mentioned me to brush my teeth, wash my face and go to the living room. I quickly did all these and hurried over to the living room where Appu was lounging on the sofa, with his eyes on his I Pad and occasionally tilting the device. I wished everyone ‘Good Morning’ and sat next to Appu on the sofa.

He was playing some sort of racing game, and when he saw me staring at it, he explained that it was ‘Real Racing 3’, one of the best racing games in the iOS app system. He even offered me a race in the game, but I refused. After all, I didn’t want him to know how bad I am in gaming.

Soon, breakfast was served. I enjoyed the food very much, because, as usual, Smitha auntie’s cooking was fantastic. After the breakfast, Appu and I played the card game ‘UNO’. He first explained me how to go about the game. After that, even though the game appeared easy, Appu kept winning the game each time. I suspected that he was cheating, though I had no proof. 

After some time, when I started feeling bored, I rudely interrupted the game and asked “Have you got anything else that we could play?”

He smiled at me and said “Well, I have got Monopoly…”

“You mean that board game, where we deal with money?”

“Yes”, he replied

“Hmm, anything else?” I asked again

“Oh Yes! Why, we have billiards, tennis, cricket, cards, football, hockey, squash, and badminton”, he said, imitating a shopkeeper, “what would you like to play, sir?”

“Uh, what about…”

“Manikkutta, if you want to play with whatever I’ve got, you are most welcome,” he said without allowing me to finish my sentence.

“Actually Appu;” I said, mimicking a dissatisfied guest, “I feel like reading something,”

 “Well, if you feel like reading…”

“Yes, I want to read. Can I?”  I asked expectantly

“All right. You can browse through the books I’ve got just in case, in the book shelf in your room.”

I ran to my bed room and scanned the book shelf.

“Hey, I always wanted to read this book! They don’t sell this along with the set!” I exclaimed, taking it out.

It was titled “Diary of a Wimpy Kid – The Movie Diary”.

“Hmmm… seems interesting” I concluded from the cover.

I leaped upon the bed and opening the book, I started reading. I had my nose in the book till lunch time, when I had a great surprise. My father rushed into the room.

“Manikkutta, get ready quickly. We are going out for lunch and shopping,” he shouted.

“Father, why do you have to shout unnecessarily?” I asked, rubbing my ears.

“Stop blabbering and start dressing!” he said with a mildly irritated tone, while buttoning the shirt he had donned.

After a few minutes, as I sat on the couch, waiting for everybody to get ready, I could hear another squabble going on in my room.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, everyone was ready for action. We followed Sujith uncle to the basement and into his car. We drove quickly out and did not stop until we reached ILD Trade Centre, a shopping mall.

We got out of the car and followed Smitha auntie. When I pushed the revolving door at the entrance, I used a little more force than required, which made the door go around faster and smacked Appu, who was standing right behind. Because of this, Appu made a rocketing entry into the lobby.

After he regained his balance, he tried chasing me around the lobby, but I was too fast for him. Smitha auntie led us to a restaurant named ‘Bikanerwala’.

“Isn’t Bikaner in Rajasthan?” I blurted out.

“Yes,” returned Sujith uncle; “and you know, the region was earlier called Jangladesh which…”

“Cut down your historical studies, Sujith”, my father snickered.

Meanwhile, as I was opening the door of the restaurant to get in, I could see Appu standing well away to avert any more disasters. My surroundings were suddenly filled with the noise of customers and the lovely smell of food. The latter made me look up at the menu which was displayed on a board.

“The service here resembles the one in a chaat centre,” Smitha auntie said, “The name too,” she added as an after-thought.

“Well, let’s get eating,” my father interrupted, “Appu, what would you like to have?”

“A mix of red and white sauce pasta,” he said, looking smug,” It’s my own invention”

He passed on the order to a person sitting in the cash counter. He looked confused.

“I’ll explain, bhaiyya,” Appu said.

“Well, the pasta counter is over there, he’ll make the pasta as per your suggestion” he said.

“Manikkutta, what do you want?” my father asked, shifting his attention to me.

“Chole bhature,” I said promptly.

“All right and …”

After all the orders were made, the dishes arrived. We finished our lunch in half an hour and walked out of the restaurant complementing the food.

“So, what next?” I asked my mother.

“We go to the HUDA CITY CENTRE, board a metro, alight at INA, shop at Delhi Haat and come back”, she said; with the speed of a computer processor.

I let it all sink in. Several questions started buzzing in my mind. What is HUDA CITY CENTRE? What is INA? How is the Delhi metro different from the Bangalore metro? Where is Delhi Haat ? Why is it so special?

Smitha auntie started explaining as if she had read my mind.

“HUDA is Haryana Urban Development Authority. You can see Qutub Minar and AIIMS on our way. We even go underground during the journey. You must be aware that the Delhi metro is the longest in the country and is built by Malayalees’ own ‘Metro Man’ E Sridharan. Delhi Haat is very similar to the Shilparamam you have in Hyderabad.”

“Then what is INA?” I asked

“Hmmm… Ah… Actually I have no idea what it is,” she said, absorbed in thought, “Sujith, do you know anything about it?”

“Uh, no…”Sujith uncle said, as he turned on the ignition of the car and we seated ourselves.

Appu and I started making our own expansions for INA.

“Could be International or National Academy,” he said

“Or Inter National Academy,” I countered

“Nah, that can’t be”

“Or Indian Nannies Association”

Both of us burst out laughing. Finally we settled on Indian Naval Academy.

We were a merry group, not bothering even to curse the heavy traffic which prevailed that day.

“Smitha, where do we park - the front or the back gate?” Sujith uncle’s question set Smitha auntie thinking.

“Try out the front gate, Sujith,” she reasoned, “they are usually empty”

But as the car neared the front gate, we learnt that it was fully occupied.

“I knew it,” my father muttered.

“How would you have known it, Salim? Sixth sense, eh?” Sujith uncle sniggered.

“Be careful, Sujith, or the car might dash something.” My father said, imitating an oracle.

CRASH !

Everyone rushed out of the car, causing a traffic jam, to check if the car had any damage.

“Thank goodness! There is no major damage;” Smitha auntie sighed with relief.

Sujith uncle came rushing.

“Dents?” he asked.

“Nah”, Appu replied.

“Bumps?”

“Nope”.

“Scratches?”

“Not one”.

Nobody had yet seen the big scratch the car had on its bumper, by hitting the tree.

“Thank God,” he said, “now let’s get into the car. We’ll try the back gate”

Sure enough, there was abundance in the availability of parking space in the back gate.

We got out, walked to the metro station and purchased tickets for our journey. In no time the metro arrived like a slithering snake. I stepped into the metro, and a blast of cold air hit me. Because of my swift-footed nature, I could reserve two seats, thinking that my father would sit along with me, But everyone dashed off to the five seats Smitha auntie had reserved, and even I had to follow suit. As a result, my father had to stand the fifteen to sixteen stops we travelled.

I looked around at the interior of the metro to see if there were any videos being displayed, as in the Bangalore metro, which I could watch and pass time. But I was disappointed. Appu, meanwhile passed away his time by peeping into the mobile phone in which the man sitting next to him was playing a game.

We alighted at INA and proceeded to Delhi Haat, which was just beside the metro station. We purchased six tickets and went in.

Smitha auntie and my mother could no longer suppress their feelings as they disappeared into the stalls displaying dress materials. As we went after them, we found them bargaining with the shop keeper over a particular piece. After some time, they came out of the shop clutching it, looking triumphant.

“We got this for Rs.800 when its MRP was Rs.1200!” my mother said cheerfully.

My father raised his eyebrows.

“This is a unique piece, which is available only in Delhi”, she said defensively.

“So what about the five other unique pieces you bought back in Hyderabad last week”, he asked.

Her face went red.

“Stop bickering and move on! I can spot a café up ahead!” I shouted, forgetting my parched throat.

There is a joke in Malayalam. ‘Edmund Hillary was astounded when he scaled the peaks of Mount Everest, because he found a Malayali selling tea over there!’ which came true in our case that day. The shop I spotted was no café. It was a cent per cent Malayali tea shop! Everyone was delighted when they saw the shop.

“Kairali,” my father said, looking up at the name board, “Perfect name!”

“Tea for everyone?” Sujith uncle enquired.

“And Mirinda for us,” Appu said and I nodded to support the statement.

Soon, we were sitting around a table, chatting with each other until the last drop of each beverage was finished.

We then walked aimlessly around the place, enjoying the fresh air. After that, we went back to the metro station and bought tickets for HUDA City Centre. During the onward trip, only my father had to stand, where as the return trip was spent standing by Appu, my father, Sujith uncle and me. As I stood trying to pacify my aching legs, I saw Appu making faces at his reflection in the window glass. I tried to hide my laughter, seeing Appu’s antics. I wondered what the people outside were thinking, it’s not everyday that a 12 year old travelling in a metro makes faces at them! The long aching and tiring journey finally ended as the metro glided to a stop at HUDA City Centre. I rushed out, plopped myself at a seat on the platform, and started massaging my legs (which I started immediately, lest my father should ask me to massage his). I dragged myself wearily into the car and lounged on its seat. Sujith uncle revved the engine and the car shot off to their apartment.

Back home, I freshened up and sat down with a good book. Meanwhile, Appu was playing a CD on the telly with everyone watching it. Just out of curiosity, I looked up from the book. It was his parent’s wedding CD! Sujith uncle looked so young and handsome and Smitha auntie looked childlike! The video was really long, and by the time it ended, I had finished my book, and it was time for dinner. After dinner, I was thinking of watching a movie. But Smitha auntie sent us to our rooms saying, “Sleep early today, for we have to get up very early tomorrow for the long trip planned.”

Day 3 (16-Mar-2014) – Visit to the Wonder of the World

‘Ring, Ring!  Ring, Ring!’ went Sujith uncle’s mobile phone as Appu and I sat on the sofa early in the morning playing games in the I Pad, fully dressed up and ready for the Agra trip.

“Manikkutta, you continue with the game, I’ll hand the mobile over to my father,” Appu said, picking it up and running over to his father’s room. Meanwhile, my father was getting dressed up in our room and Smitha auntie and my mother were packing everything needed for the trip.

Sujith uncle came hurrying out of his room.

“The cab driver says that he’s been waiting for about half an hour and he’s getting impatient,” he said.

“Suggest him to take up Yoga. It calms our mind and helps us to be patient,” my father said coming out of the room.

“Smitha, we’ve got to pack faster,” my mother muttered.

After some time, we were comfortably seated in the Innova, and the driver turning on the ignition, let the car speed away towards Agra.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked

“Our first stop is at Taj Mahal,” my mother said, “where we plan to stop for approximately two hours.”

I gave a gasp of astonishment and mouthed, two hours?

“Then we will have our lunch at a restaurant,” continued my mother indifferently, “After lunch, stop at Agra Fort for another two hours, after which we’ll start of Gurgaon, and on the way, we’ll have tea.”

“Anyone cares for some cake?” Smitha auntie asked, holding up a box of chocolate cake.

After an hour, as we neared a toll gate, Sujith uncle announced “Now we are crossing the boundary of Haryana and Uttarpradesh.”

I looked at my surroundings with a new found interest. So, this is how UP looks! Good morning, everybody!

Driving through the potholes was not such a rewarding experience, and soon enough, I had a king-sized headache. As I sat trying to refresh myself up by the blowing wind, a boy of about 15-16 years in a lorry, who smiled at with his yellow teeth, threw a handful of Gulal at me.

“Holi hai!” he screamed, flashing me a yellow smile, as the truck passed on.

“I should have told you Manikkutta,” Appu said “this is Holi time”

As the distance between Taj Mahal and us kept decreasing, I spotted a rusted board passing us which read ’Mathura’.

“We have set foot in Mathura,” Smitha auntie said, “the birth place of Lord Krishna”

I knew enough about Mathura, as I’d spent hours learning the pasts of Mathura and other such cities in my History classes. So when I continued in Smitha auntie’s line of conversation, everyone seemed dumbfounded, except for Appu.

“I learned all that last year,” he muttered, “when I was in the sixth.”

After an hour, the car halted at our destination. I got out, along with the others, dusting myself.

“Welcome to Taj Mahal, sir. The tickets can be purchased from the ticket counter over there and then we go in through that gate,” heard a voice.

I nearly jumped out of my skin on hearing a stranger’s voice.

Oh, I thought, It was only our guide. Silly me!

We’d decided to hire a guide as my mother had insisted The first guide whom we’d met had an arrogant air about him.

“So, how much will you charge?” Sujith uncle had asked

“Since you are visiting Taj Mahal and Agra Fort,” he’d replied, ”I’ll charge 400 rupees.”

“400 rupees!” my father had exclaimed, “that’s too much!”

“But sir,” he’d reasoned, pulling out his identity card, “I am a government-authorized guide. I assure you, you’ll have a first-class experience of your visit, if I assist you!”

Meanwhile, another guide, with a humble look on his face, has approached us and said, “Sir, I am ready to accompany you and I’ll gladly accept whatever you pay me.”

All of us looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Sir, even I am authorized by the government!” he had said showing his identity card to us.

“All right, you are in,” Sujith uncle had said.

The guide’s chatter brought me back to the present.

“These are shoe covers,” he said, handing each of a pair of polythene shoe-shaped covers and keeping one for himself, “These have to be worn like socks on the footwear just before we step onto Taj Mahal, as the monument gets accumulated with dirt when people stamp on it with their footwear on.”

Clutching our tickets and shoe covers we hurried over to the queue formed at the entrance.

After a long wait, we made our way into the compound. Our guide, on reaching particular building, decided that it was the moment to start his business.

“These buildings, as you can see madam are…”

This statement made Smitha auntie and my mother inch closer to the guide. Meanwhile, my father, taking his camera out, started snapping photos all over the place, with Appu acting as his assistant.

“Salim uncle, a group photo next…”

Click.

“Uncle, that tomb…”

Click.

I watched Appu with admiration. How freely was he interacting with my parents! This was something I should definitely learn from him!

“Now, madams, we’ll make our way to witness the GREATEST MONUMENT IN INDIA!” the guide said, giving it a dramatic effect. As we followed him on the road leading to the Taj, Smitha auntie and my mother were discussing about the guide.

“He seems to be an expert in his field,”

“He explains very naturally,”

“Couldn’t it be that he copied all his information from Wikipedia?” Appu asked.

“No, I don’t think he did anything like that,” opposed my mother.

Finally, the great monument came into my view. My jaw dropped. It was really magnificent. It looked like a glistening pearl in the dazzling light of the afternoon sun. A sea of people was spread out in front of me, at different locations in the garden, posing for the cameras pointed at them. When we found an empty spot right in front of the Taj, the photographer in Appu aroused. On taking his DSLR out, he started ordering us about.

“Manikkutta, sit over there, on that bench. Salim uncle, beside him... Yes, that’s right…”

“Uh, Appu, may be …” I tried to intervene.

“Manikkutta, don’t interfere!” Appu shouted, “’cos I am the Gamma here!”

“The Alpha, you mean,” I corrected him.

After we had enough of squinting out through the blinding sunlight towards Appu’s camera, we got up. Our guide reminded us to put on our shoe covers. All of us pulled those out and started tying those. Meanwhile Appu’s face turned a little pale, as he searched the side pockets of his jeans.

“Uh mother, where are the shoe covers I’d given you for safe keeping?” he asked, uneasily.

“Given me?” Smitha auntie shot back, “Now don’t tell me that you have lost them.”

“He, he, I think I have,” Appu continued in his uneasy tone.

After a long search Appu found those.

“Where did you find it?” asked an irritated Sujith uncle.

“Er…” was his hesitant reply.

“Speak up Appu!”

“Uh, in the camera cover,” he replied, and shut his ears, anticipating a storm from us.

Soon, we were exploring the Taj with the guidance of our chaperon.

As the guide was rattling on his by-hearted information, Smitha auntie and my mother were all ears, but I was interested only in sight-seeing. After he completed his audio documentary, he led us into a hall inside the marble tomb.

There was a huge grille which surrounded a staircase leading underground. This, according to the guide, led to Shah Jahan’s and Mumtaz Mahal’s graves, which was open to tourists once a year for few days. But during the major part of the year, symbolic graves which signified their death were set up.

A man was standing near the grille, signalling the visitors to move faster. As we moved on, the guide explained that this monument, which is symmetrical in shape, was a fine piece of Mughal architecture – a blend of Persian, Indian and Islamic styles.

We noticed several beautiful semi-precious stones on the walls of the tomb, but at some places, there were empty spaces, as if they had been removed.

“It is sad,” the guide reflected, “to see people behaving shamelessly. These stones were stolen by vagrants.”

We got out of the tomb through the exit. My father, relieved that we were out of the ‘no photography’ zone, took his camera out and captured several more photos. We trudged back, tired after the sight seeing, to the parking lot where we got into the car as it got ready to leave for Agra Fort.

“Sir, I suggest we have our lunch before touring Agra Fort, as it will take at least two hours and it’s already 30 minutes past 12,” the driver proposed.

“Well, it’d be better if we …” Sujith uncle tried to reason.

“Sir, I have got a lot of experience.”

“All right, all right, let’s find a hotel,” he replied.

The first thought that passed my mind after I stepped into the hotel was, What a cheap looking hotel!

There was not one customer in the whole restaurant. Dusty chairs and tables made up a large part of the room. A waiter, on seeing us, hastily took out a cleaning rag and dusted two tables, joined them and motioned us to take a seat.

“We could find a better place,” my father said.

“Sir, this is the best hotel in the whole of Agra!” our driver said grandly.

“I thought Agra could do better than this,” Appu murmured, “Anyway, let’s eat something. I’m ravenous,”

Everybody agreed with him as we took our seats.  I ordered a bowl of paneer butter masala and two rotis, which was the best lunch I could find on the menu.

----------------------------

“It was not such a bad lunch after all,” my father said, wiping his washed hands on a towel, “I’d say it was decent,”

“Your bill, Sir,” the waiter approached us and said, handing the bill over to my father.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it.

He looked at it, and his eyes widened as he re-read the bill over and over again.

“I can’t believe it,” handing me the bill. “Mind blowing, I’d say,”

The figures at the end of the bill made my eyes nearly pop out.

“Mind boggling, I’d say” I muttered

Soon, we were on our way to the Agra Fort. It took us very less time to get there, as the hotel was pretty much in the centre of the city. On the way, Appu made a startling discovery.

“Hey! Hey!” he shouted, “Over there! Look at that hotel!”

All of us turned our attention to the place Appu was pointing to. On the opposite side of the road was a restaurant which was way better than the one we had our lunch in. We all turned to glare at the driver.

“…the best hotel in the whole of Agra,” Appu said, imitating the driver’s earlier talk.

“Er…he, he,” was his sheepish response.

The slowing down of the car signified our arrival at Agra Fort.

“Welcome to Agra Fort,” our guide said.

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“I would’ve liked to meet the architect of the fort,” I said puffing and panting as I trudged up the slope leading to the first floor of the fort, “Couldn’t he have designed rooms on the ground floor?”

“Forts were generally built for wars,” said the guide, “and were seldom comfortable, as these were not their palaces. But in the case of the Mughal emperors, this fort was also their abode,”

Finally, after a lot of heaving and cursing, we made it to the top of the fort.

“The fort is built over a vast expanse of land as…” the guide began.

As usual, my restlessness made me lose interest in whatever the guide was rambling on about. I even thought that my History teacher next year would explain better!

 I decided to begin an expedition (my imaginary quest) by picking up a stray twig (my imaginary sword) and making sure my cap (my imaginary helmet) was in place.

I could only make it to a storeroom inside the fort before a guard chased me out.

“Stupid bloke,” I said under my breath.

As I walked back to my starting point, I could see and hear a war of words between Smitha auntie and Sujith uncle. I regretted throwing my twig away as I thought I’d have made a good swordsman in the background. As I neared them, their talk became audible to me.

“…could you make Appu wear his thermal underneath?” asked agitated Smitha auntie.

“But Smitha,” Sujith uncle protested, “it was chilly in the morning. So…”

“Wait, wait,” I interrupted. “What exactly happened?”

“Appu is having dehydration walking in this hot Sun.,” Smitha auntie explained, “and to top it all, Sujith made him wear his thermals!”

“Oh…” I said a trifle confused, as I have no idea what a thermal was.

“Where is he then?” I asked when I found him missing.

“He’s removing it over there,” my mother said, pointing, “there, in that corner.”

After a while, Appu, clutching a white shirt, came back. He did look very tired, with his drooping eyes and sullen face.

“Do you want more water, Appu?” Smitha auntie asked, caressing him.

“No,” he said hoarsely.

“Suggest we leave for Gurgaon immediately,” my father said. “Appu could take a nap, and we could have refreshments on the way. I am sure he will be all right then.”

“All right,” Smitha aunty said, sounding re-assured, “off we go to the car.”

We paid the guide’s fees before we began our return trip. Funnily, we willingly paid him 500 rupees, where as the other would-be guide had asked us only 400 rupees.

Our driver started up the vehicle, and the car sped off through the historical streets of Agra.

“What about Fatehpur Sikri?” I asked aloud.

“There is nothing much over there. We can skip that.” Smitha auntie replied.

After an hour, I broke the eerie silence which prevailed in the car, when I spotted a shop selling tea, coffee and cool drinks.

We woke up Appu and asked him he wanted. “Sprite,” he mumbled and he sat up yawning.

Soon, after having refreshed ourselves, we continued our journey, with fresher minds. Appu, now wide awake, seemed to be filled with energy.

“Manikkutta,” he asked, “What do you want to become when you grow up?”

“A software engineer,” I replied, “What about you?”

“I want to,” he said proudly, “become a cardiac surgeon.”

“A cardiac surgeon!”

“Yep, you know why? I simply love to tear things up.”

“… and what other job than a cardiac surgeon would satisfy me?”

After  a few hundred minutes, the scenery changed into the familiar scene of Sohna road. As the car pulled into the drive way of our apartment, we got out and made our way to the house, but Sujith uncle stayed behind to pay the driver his fees.

We decided to have the  dinner from Bikanerwala again, as Smitha auntie and my mother were too tired to prepare any food.

Dinner over, we headed back the house, where I rolled onto the bed as soon as I got there.

Day 4 (17-Mar-2014) – Kicking Back and Relaxing

I opened my eyes at a quarter past nine in the morning (which I still think is a great feat). This surprised me a lot as I usually never have a nap for more than nine hours. I groggily sat up straight on my bed. Then I quickly jumped out and went through all my errands before I went to the living room.  I felt even more surprised there, as it was the first day in my stay that I woke up before Appu. But he was not much of a sleepyhead because, as I sat on the couch, trying to find out his iPad pass code, he made his appearance.

“Trying to crack the code, eh?” he asked me.

“Er…yes, but I have been trying for about 10 minutes, and yet I am not able to crack it,” I said, giving up the task.

“Hmm,” he said wistfully, “I wish I know the code, I gave up on it long before.”

“Breakfast’s ready!” called out Smitha auntie from the kitchen.

After breakfast, Appu begged Sujith uncle to unlock the iPad for him.

“Hmm, all right,” he said, “but don’t play too many games on it.”

After doing just the opposite of what Sujith uncle had instructed us, and making our eyes red and puffy, we got fed up.

“What next?” I asked Appu

“How about…some TV?” was his reply.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it,” I said absorbed in thought.

“Then how good would be UNO?”

“You mean that card game?”

“Yeap”

“Er…” I said hesitantly, fearing cunning tricks up his sleeve, “all right”.

For the first time, I started winning duels even with Appu as the opponent. After shouting ‘UNO’ for the umpteenth time, which made me the winner of that match, I stood up and said, “Now would be a good time for television.”

“But before that,” said my mother, emerging from the kitchen, “you’d better have some lunch.”

----------------------------

“Any good movies you've got?” I asked Appu, as chappatis and fried chicken disappeared down my gullet.

“Hmm.. I did have the DVD of ‘Amazing Spiderman’, but I kind of misplaced it,’ he replied.

“Appu,” Smitha auntie said, from across the table, indignantly, ‘You yourself told us that the top of the almirah in your room is the perfect place form safe-keeping such items!”

“Oh,” he said indifferently, “I completely forgot about it.”

After lunch we searched for the DVD and found it on the almirah as Smitha auntie had said.

“Spiderman, Spiderman... Does whatever a spider can,” hummed Appu as he inserted the disk into the CD player.

Amazing visuals, good background effects and a nice plot put Amazing Spiderman together. It was around five in the evening when the movie got over.

“Fantastic film,” I said, getting off the couch and washing my face, “what next?”

“Hmm…hey!” he said, something clicking in his mind, “I've never show you my bicycle, right?”

“Nope”, I said as a reply

“Then,” he said grandly running over to his balcony, “behold the magnificent Firefox SWR10- made for racers”

“Wow”, I muttered as I looked at the beast. It gleamed mischievously in the light of the setting sun, ready to be raced upon.

“Ready to go for cycling?” he asked

“Of course,” I replied readily

We wheeled the cycle to the elevator and pressed the ‘ground floor’ button. As the elevator slowed down and finally stopped, we got out.

“Manikkutta,” he said, getting on his cycle which he stationed at the start-point of his route, “You follow me on foot as I cycle trough my usual route, so that you get an idea of my route.”

I jogged at Appu’s side as he cycled past towers, a swimming pool, well mown lawns and the children’s play area. He halted as he arrived at the starting point, having cycled through a whole lap.

“Now it’s your turn, “ said Appu, getting off.

We played about like this until it started darkening. We wheeled the cycle back to the elevator and into his apartment which brought me a surprise.

“Finally!” said my mother, looking with disapproval at our dirty selves, “go, have a quick wash, for Smitha has prepared Paneer Tikka.”

Having cleaned ourselves and throwing on cleaner clothes, Appu and I rushed to the dining hall, where everyone was munching on the paneer tikka Smitha aunty was serving.

After every scrape of the meal was eaten up, Smitha aunty announced, “we’ve got to pack provisions for tomorrow’s tour around Delhi.”

“And for that,” continued my mother, “we need basic supplies.”

“Which is why,” interrupted Smitha aunty, “we’ve got the need to do some shopping. So, giddy up.”

We hurried to the basement, locking the door behind us, and got into Sujith uncle’s car. He drove out of the compound and rushed towards one of the biggest supermarkets in Gurgaon – ‘More’,

“All right”, said Smitha aunty, taking out a shopping list (which measured a cubit in accordance with my body!).

“Let’s start with the veggies.”

After a long period of shopping, Appu and I finally got something to enjoy.

“Have some ice cream,” said my father, handing us each a Cornetto cone.

On the way back home, we had an extremely light dinner from a wayside restaurant.

The moment we stepped into the house, my mother sent me to bed, saying “We’ll be leaving at half past eight tomorrow. Better have a good sleep.”