Nangla's Delhi

[10-09-2006]

A narrow opening – the slight wall of woven material has been cut open, the flap raised and kept in place with the support of a bamboo stick. This marks the house as being different from others. One can tell no one will stay here after 11:00 at night.

The floor is cool with the fresh smear of mud and cow-dung.

Just as one can sense there is an urgency in everyone to get their own land, a haste to make a home on it, one can also tell making a shop on the plot assigned to ones name is very important here.

What kind of a life will a shop in the middle of the lane have? Will it be able to create its own market? It's not so important to work out these questions just yet. First let the shop get made; let everyone get accustomed to its presence.

In the lane, a few plots still lie vacant, without anything built on them. Other than on these, work is being carried out with a kind of immediacy.

He calls himself the pradhan (the elected head) of this area. Clad in a kurta and a dhoti, a cap with a pointed front on his head, he said, “Listen. In the beginning there was water all around. We got it filled with sand. What we didn't fill up now flows as the River Yamuna. The settlement which came up by the river has three parts in it, all of which together are known by the name Nangla Maachhi.”

He is 28 years old, and his hairstyle is like Salman Khan's was in “Tere Naam”. He is wearing white pants and a black shirt with shining pearls sewn on it. “Friend, there was nothing but swamps here, which three to four people filled up. I was one of them, though I was so young at the time. As soon as the swamp got filled up, house after house came up here.”

His face betrayed an unhappiness. He was wearing a waist cloth, a stick in his hand, as if he is holding his entire world in his fist. This elderly man said to me, “Sit here and listen. Where Nangla is today, was once a dense forest. Snakes, monkeys, lions ruled the forest. Some people cut down the forest and made their homes here with the wood. And today it has taken the form of a dwelling.

I met a man who was wearing blue trousers and a white shirt. His eyes were narrow, like Ajay Devgan's. He said, “There was a vast open field from Nangla till Pragati Maidan. A field where people would stand up in declare war in revolt the moment they would see king approaching from a distance. The field remained theirs, and witnessed many inventions. One of them is Nangla Maachi.

Manilal reached Shershah school to get his daughter admitted.
The teacher asked, “Where do you live?”
“In Nangla Maanchi,” Manilal said.
“Where is that?”
“Do you know the road that leads to Noida from in front of Pragati Maidan? It's on that same road, beyond the red light immediately after Pragati Maidan.”
“Yes, I know. The swamps with a few bushes... almost a lake... But there aren't any houses there,” she said, trying to recollect the place.
“But now there is, madamji,” Manilal said.