Dilli Abhi Door Hai!!! - Not A Delhi Diary

Some of my best vacations have been the ones on work and out of office. Away from the physical reach of the editor, I start dreaming of unknown adventures. Even if it is just a visit to the next town. I just love the drama of reaching a destination.

Last week was one such experience.

Imagine sleeping in three different beds on three nights, not counting the forty winks on the plane and drooling all over the co-passenger's shoulder in the car in two trips of 8 hrs each.

The journey began in Mumbai on Jan 29 after I reached home at 1 am (that's the least time the clock can show you). A tired day was behind, a drunk present was evident and a three-day intensive tour was ahead. What was between the present and the future were about four hours and an unpacked suitcase. I present here the diary of one of the nights on the trip.

Jan 30, 2009, Saturday 8.30pm

After a two-hour flight and eight hours on the road I landed in a small town. There were five of us, I, the lone reporter from Mumbai, and four public relations executives. We were here to cover a high profile function at a village two hours away from the town featuring a top cabinet minister and a public sector company chief.

Our lodgings for the night were to be in a hotel with a heritage name and rooms fit to match the ruins. Only they were already occupied...by thirsty mosquitoes - the biggest of their species - circling like choppers around us - the prey for the night.

After turning our rooms into smoke chambers with mosquito coils, we headed to a close by banquet hall to find more of my species circling around warm beer bottles and whiskey without ice. They were mostly chiefs from the city bureaus who had separately travelled for the event.

After gulping down a large whiskey with warm water, I had my stomach in knots. The crowd however looked immensely satisfied with the warm spirit. I took aside my PR friend, who was as restless as me to get drunk, and said it was important for us to make whatever is left of the night. It was nearly 11 but we decided to try our luck.

Both of us didn't know the local area or the dialect but daru is as universal a word like water or mother. So the conversation to ask directions goes like this,

My friend hollers from the car window to a group of localities

- Daru, daru? (liquor) ,

- Band (Closed),

- He gestures kahan milega?(where)

- Black (you can get it in black - our term for paying more for our enjoyment),

- Kahan? (where),

- Hotel.

So with the knowledge of the world, we reach an almost shut seedy hotel, get in, buy a bottle of our trusted advisor - Old Monk and zip off.

The heritage rooms have a deathly silence. Bodies of asphyxiated mosquitoes are lying around. We begin our session. The first peg goes easy, the knots open up, the shoes are off and we have curled up on the bed. The conversation is intense. Careers, bosses, office bitches and the stupid company which has brought us here. By the second peg, the smoky atmosphere of the room has acquired a divine aura. We begin talking about "experiences" at religious places.

By then our teetotaler friend has already decided to retire to the other room, visibly uneasy with where the god forbidden people were headed - hell for sure.

In the third and the fourth peg - we are united in our misery, together against the world full of deceit and craftiness which drags us down professionally, we are the epitome of excellence and very very articulate.

It is the last peg - the Patiala.

It is 2.30 am, the dawn is near, the tubelight is dim, our eyes are shining. And then the big question emerges - Where do you see yourself in the next five years? My PR friend lifts up the glass to announce - "I would retire and I have a plan" . My other friend propped up on pillows says - "I want to have a published work in the next five years." Another one all wrapped up in a shawl says -"I want a house and a car but I know it will not happen." All of us pounce upon her with perfect clarity of thought on how you have to dream to do it and think positive and you could attract your success with your own thoughts. She settles down on a big house and a BMW.

My soon-to-retire friend suddenly thinks about a Rs 3 crore watch that he would surely buy.

I'm drunk but not sleepy, just tired. I have nothing to say I cannot look beyond the next day. I try hard to decide on the next five-year-plan...someone offers me a half drunk patiala, I gulp it down...still no clarity. The journey is not over yet. I have two more days of travelling and maybe some more journeys to reach the destination. Dilli Abhi Door Hai!!!