2009-Nov :: Delhi – Gurgaon

Ludo being choked for being an alcoholic and a waste of space. So voted by band consensus.

Wed 18 November

We reach early for a change, Ludo and I, despite several unsuccessful stops at IMFL shops. They’re all shut for some reason. This is solved by an emergency call to Rahul to pick up the stocks. Sealdah station is crowded as is its wont. We locate Rahul and Sukanti without much difficulty. People stare at Rahul’s cornrows and my mohawk. The porters ask their usual exorbitant rate and we brawl till things settle down. The walk is long to our compartment right up front near the engine of the Sealdah Rajdhani Express. We’re soon settled in. One of our co-passengers has occupied 3/4^th of a seat with himself and his baggage so we fish-eye him till he feels guilty. We’re headed to Delhi and Gurgaon to play a couple gigs.

Our new manager Shreya has left by an earlier train. She will be spending a couple of days in Gurgaon, meeting contacts and carrying out general PR for the band, before coming to stay with us in Delhi.

The train moves off and soon we’re plied with tea and refreshments. At the mention of refreshments, Ludo and Rahul realize that they have forgotten to pick up Cola for the rum. More confusion. Ludo has staked his claim on the side-upper berth, which he loses no time in occupying, falling asleep forthwith and sending forth great rumbling snores. Rahul is immersed in a Jim Morrison biography. Sukanti and I, bereft of occupation, spend some time using various unsubtle means to rouse Ludo. We’re unsuccessful. =/ But lo and behold! Just as the train enters the outskirts of Dhanbad, our first stop, his incredible sonar sends pulses to his somnolent brain and we watch him galvanize into action, returning with the requisite bottles of Coke.

Dinner over, the conversation has taken a turn for the cerebral, aided in part by Ye Olde Monk. It’s pretty late before the rum finishes and we wrap up for the night.

Thu 19 November

Rahul cutting off bits of Ludo's hair!

We awake stiff from having to share bunks with our guitars. Breakfast’s over and soon we’re passing Ghaziabad. Delhi’s air is still fresh and chill from recent rains. We catch a cab to Patparganj where my sister Lena stays. It’s good to be back. It’s been our refuge on most of our Delhi trips and it feels like a homecoming. Lena’s home and after hot showers to wash away the

journey, we lose no time in making ourselves a fine lunch of dal, chawal, saag and fried pork kebabs from Khub Chand. Lena’s hired some mattresses and we camp out as usual in her living room. We arrange for hire cars from Amarjit Singh’s rental agency and when they turn up, we head to Vasant Vihar to play our first gig at the new Turquoise Cottage.

The evening opens with Manta Sidhu and her band. She’s a guitar-wielding singer-songwriter whose music evokes strong memories of artistes like Alanis Morisette & Sheryl Crow. She has a way with words and can string together a great melody.

Our gig’s on and Sidhu has provided us with fine sound on stage. We have a great time regaling the audience with a selection from our set. They love it. There’s a bunch of homies in the house – Diyasree, Aritra, Tukan, Madhumita, and then some. They take the front-of-house and set the tone for the set. School of Fish, Only For a While, Higher, Caesar, Story of My Life, Satyr9, Voivoid. We rip through an abbreviated list – a “Best of …” kinda set.

But it’s over all too soon and PINKNOISE from Cal’s up next. We pack up and listen to some of their songs, wandering off at times to scrounge some refreshment. But it’s getting on and we’re pretty much wasted, so we decide to head back to Lena’s for the coup-de-grace. So we say our goodbyes and leave with PINKNOISE wrapping up their set with Idiot.

@ Turquoise Cottage

It’s around 2.30 am by the time we get back but my head’s buzzing like an old fridge and I decide to take a walk. For some reason I find walking calms me, especially in the dead of night when the world’s asleep. No humans, no honking, no talk, no ‘civilization’. Just the cold north wind rustling the leaves and the periodic chatter of my teeth as it bites through the black shawl of the night I have wrapped around me.

Inevitably, my cell phone rings. Dinner’s ready. At 3.30 am. Ludo and Sukanti have made a hot healthy meal for us all. This consists of 5 packets of Top Ramen noodles cooked with 5 eggs, an entire box of cheese and half a kilo of pork kebabs. I nibble at the concoction cautiously, hoping my arteries don’t notice. It’s been a long day.

Fri 20 November

@ Attitude

I’m woken by Lena asking if I’d like some tea. She’ll be leaving for work in a bit so we have some tea and catch up, the first opportunity we’ve had since I reached. We’re of the opinion that we’ve been siblings before too, in earlier lives. There are many reasons for that, but somehow we’re each a part of the other, instinctively aware.

The rest wake after Lena’s left. I make them tea. We laze around till 11 and then decide to catch brunch at the local market. They have a nice momo stall and a chhola bhatura guy, and one can sit in the mild sun and toast while indulging one’s tummy. We stop at Nandu’s on the way for some more tea. He’s thrilled to see us again. We give him much custom, both through our own insatiable thirst, as well as that of passers-by who would like to stop and stare at us outlandish people, on the pretext of sipping tea. When we reach the food plaza we’re horrified to see no chairs or tables around. We ask the bhatura guy why? Local fucking politics. We pack some stuff and carry it back home. We eat. We drink Sukanti’s espresso shots. We sleep again. We wake up and call the car rental agency. Two cars to Gurgaon and back. We’re playing at Attitude, a new and upcoming pub.

The drive is uneventful. We pick up Lena and Vinayak from OUP on Jai Singh Road. We’re being driven by a taciturn character named Parvinder, whom we immediately nickname ‘Perv’. The expressway is busy with people returning home, or (as is the case with call-centers) heading to work. The chaos is made worse by an inordinate number of trucks. After the toll plaza things spread out and we’re in. Gurgaon is a boom city, still growing. As Rahul aptly puts it, “the buildings make you feel like you’re in Singapore, the roads like you’re in Serampore”. Dust from constructions is thick everywhere and even with all windows rolled up, a steady stream cleverly insinuates itself between the tiniest of cracks to delightedly envelope us in a cloud, coating our throats and nostrils, and setting us all coughing delicately.

Attitude at last, in the heart of Gurgaon, above Oak Tree, a swank new place, spacious and wood-paneled. We meet Rajesh Nair, our sound engineer for the evening. The other car with Sukanti and Ludo hasn’t arrived yet, and we’re nibbly, so we grab a quick snack of thukpa and momos. Thus reinforced, we get the soundcheck going. Its 10 by the time we start.

Ludo with The Cure

There are no restrictions on time today, so we play a full set. We even have sections of old-school rock n roll with Dilip Ramachandran joining us on songs like No Woman No Cry, Like a Rolling Stone, and Hey Hey, My My. We take a notional break halfway through, sonically separating the 2 halves of the set and take stage again with the heavier, nu-age section.

Boy! And they said it was an upcoming place which was just beginning to find its feet. The place is crowded with an amazing audience. They are so into the music. They are on their feet and they are moving.

(While watching our video recordings, I realize that I am happiest when I’m playing. All the members of the band have been accused at some point or the other of being social grouches, grumpy, scary and never smiling, but somehow, when I’m playing I cannot not be happy. It’s like that Air Supply song I used to love as a kid: “Hope springs eternal when you’re near, All the passion reappears, All emotion seems so strong; Hope springs eternal thru your eyes, Draws me closer to your side, And keeps me there where I belong.” And that’s what music does to me… is to me. All I want to laugh and bounce about from the sheer joy of it.)

It’s a boisterous night. Shreya is back with us. Lena has retired for the night. Late nights are not her thing. Two days of great gigs and spirits are high. The conversations veer ever wilder as the alcohol is depleted. Sukanti and I happily down our espresso double shots (Lavazza editions). Tomorrow’s a day of rest. Sukanti plans to go shopping for a bigger espresso kettle. This one can only make one double at a time. Rahul decides to call it a day. He takes the spare bedroom. But we’re far from sleepy and unfortunately we were all very bad that night. Someone got his fish cooked, someone got her cellphone confiscated, someone got caught red-handed, and we all got yelled at. Eventually, at 5 we’re like okay it’s getting early, we need to crash. A snore, a giggle, a sibilant whisper, “machliiii… more giggles.

Sat 21 November

I’m up at 8, surprisingly fresh and Lena and I share a quiet morning over tea. She’s pissed at us coz we were making such a ruckus that she was awake as long as we were. She’s got a splitting head. The others get up in bits n pieces. Another round of tea! Conversation! Since it’s already like 11 o’ clock, and its Lena’s off day, we decide to just head out and lunch. Rahul elects to stay back. He’s not feeling up to more of our shenanigans. We head out to CP and consume a sumptuous lunch at Nizam’s. There’s nothing much to do, no POA, so we loaf around. We need 3 sets of acoustic guitar strings for the morrow. Tukan takes us to a shop that shows us D’Addario and some pricey local stuff. But we just want some cheap ones which will suffice us for now. Eventually we’re shown Karuna ones right from back home Lalbazar. We carry them off triumphantly. Sukanti gets his six-shooter espresso kettle. It’s getting dark. Ludo wants to get his hair braided so he wanders off with Tukan and Sukanti. Lena, Shreya and I shop around a bit and then head home. I’m in one of those weird spaces and need to be alone. So I drop stuff off at the house and go out for a walk. It calms me. Lena calls and tells me she’s cooked pork and Shreya’s made the salad. Would I deign to cook some rice? I would. I do.

It’s a quieter night tonight. We’re all somehow subdued, except for Rahul. After being alone at home all day, he’s full of beans and entertains us till we’re out.

Sun 22 November

Ludo entertaining with dugdugi

@ Dilip's

Sunday! It’s my turn to cook lunch. I will make tehri. Shreya appropriates the chicken I was supposed to use and turns it into a fab spicy curry. I change my plan and decide to make my tehri light and un-intrusive on the spices in the chicken. It turns out quite right and we have a great lunch. I overeat and regret it later. Ludo entertains us with the dugdugi I bought him.

We hire cars from Amarjit Singh-ji. We have a new driver and he’s garrulous. We’re headed to Dilip and Ruchi’s home for dinner and a sing-song.

Dilip (ex-drummer for Parikrama) has always been a great friend, philosopher and guide to the band. Over the years he has picked us up when we were down, encouraged us, befriended us, taken us into his home and shown us love, believed in us, kept us going. Thanks Dilip.

Dilip’s Party: As narrated by Ludo

Finally after a long journey from Patparganj to Gurgaon (it’s across the state line, a drive of around 70 kms) we reached “West End Heights”, the lovely residential complex where our dear friend Dilip Ramachandran lives. After the usual security question-answer and an entry in the register we boarded the lift which takes us to the 15^th floor. As usual, Johnny points out (like earlier times) that the building does not have a 13th floor (the usual superstition). Super-express elevator and in almost 10 seconds we’re inside the place Dilip and Ruchi call home. As always this is a place where we are very comfortable and the hospitality is superb. Within like 10 minutes the party’s on with everyone carrying their glasses out to the balcony for a smoke and Johnny and Sukanti with their coffee shots. Juhi, Ruchi’s sister is bereft of words when she’s told how they like their coffee.

Sharat bhai is a fantastic violin player and a very well known musician in the circuit too. In no time we gel and kick off the jam session. There’s a djembe in Dilip’s house, and I start off with a beat with Sharat and Gyan joining in. The music takes off.

We jam some of our own songs like Rumble, Higher and Caesar. Rahul sings some Swahili songs and also some covers from The Band, Johnny Cash, and the usual country/singer songwriter thing he does. There are some instrumental pieces on odd counts like 7 and 5. Dilip joins in with a jar of sugar as a shaker (when I try it later, the lid falls off along with some of the contents). Finally we end the session with an Indian classical piece which Sharat and Gyan play. The air is electric.

In session: Shona, Sharat, Ludo, jBoi, Gyan

We head for the dinner table and some lovely biryani and raita. It’s around 4’o clock in the morning when we leave Dilip’s place and head back towards our home at Patparganj. As usual, as is the case with these visits to Dilip and Ruchi’s home, this was an evening we will remember forever.

Mon 23 November

We’re leaving today, and the gloom settles on us all. Lena’s left for work and Shreya makes us countless cups of tea and tries to cheer us up. The mattress guy comes to take the gaddas back and our now-empty camp site lowers our spirits even more. Our Rajdhani back is at 4.30. Shreya’s on the Poorva but it leaves at the same time as ours. As I check the rooms and lock up #71 I feel rootless and alone.

We drop the keys by OUP on the way to the station. Lena’s at a meeting so I give them to Lopa and collect the printout of Shreya’s ticket from her.

We settle into our compartment, stowing luggage as best we can. I pick up Amitava Ghosh’s Sea of Poppies from a Wheeler’s on the platform. I bury myself in it before I can be engaged in conversation. I am very fucked up. The others are in somewhat of a similar frame of mind. Talk is non-existent. Ludo climbs into the top berth and does not appear till dinner is served. I climb into mine and read till I’m asleep. Sukanti dozes where he sits. Rahul reads.

The Aftermath

Sea of Poppies turns out to be one of the nicest books I have read in recent times.

Shreya’s train reached 5 hours late.

Our Rajdhani reached only 45 minutes late and all the provisions I had bought in anticipation of the SUCI bandh and the train waiting on the outskirts till 6pm, still sits in a plastic bag in my room.

I wonder what was different about the two journeys. What changed in the interim? We had great gigs, great fellowship, and great food. I got to spend 5 days with my sister. We played in Delhi after almost a year and the audience welcomed us. Why are we feeling this way? Why does it hurt so bad?