Diving into the unknown…
Indian weeks stream faster than drinks in a Anjou party. Since I got back from Bodhgaya, a few little funny things to tell.
After the 26 hours of train, I needed some rest but Stéphanie, she was really on form to accept the invitation of Rahul: having a look to the mariage of the little nephew. Or cousin, don’t remember.
A few hours later, I find my camera full of maximum 4-seconds long videos: as many as they were, no one could find the way to make the machine work correctly. But there are a few interesting photos, illustrating that ceremony which cost 700 lakhs, namely 70 millions of rupees, or 1 million of euros. In the gold mine, among others, a Mercedes.
On Friday night, my willingness transcends intestinal ache and I mount an autorickshaw for an hour of route, towards Saket, restless spot of the South, for the birthday party of my class fellow Akshay. Thirty-ish guests, the parents who come down for five minutes, the cream cake that ends up on the cheeks and the hair. And, by way of surprise, the presence of the group Junkyard Groove, really prized band of the Indian rock underground. A few hours earlier, they finished off a live at the Hardrock café of the capitale for 1,5 lakh (2200 euros), a nice fortune. And to keep going, they improvised an unplugged session, shared with Akshay over the moon and at the guitare.
Unplugged version…
… studio version.
At the master of the place’s request, I uploaded online the whole collection of videos of the party. (I recommend the excerpt Birthday Cake to you if you want to see the atmosphere of a young lad party, Indian style.)
Madhav (not the first minister’s grand son, another one) is the one putting me up this night, therefore I follow him. We catch up another party where the Junkyard Groove got invited. Watch out: highly selected area, supernatural density of Frenchies de la haute, and wealthy Indian heirs. Difficult to feel confortable, we won’t be long time coming packing bag and baggage, direction Saket for a final port of call at the 24/7, one of the only shops permanently open of the capitale. The hot dog is mutton-made, and the little street kids have a delicious meal, behind us, with the gracious donations of the business-suits who just left the place.
Saturday’s wake up is calm and late. My morning dream is granted: Madhav suggests to go have breakfast/lunch/afternoon snack at KFC. We pounce on like little pigs, and I spend the afternoon having a good laugh with Madhav sister’s boyfriend, an 29 years old air copilot, not maried and who laughs about it when he’s not too worried about. Between him and the dudes of Junkyard Groove, I have now too much choice, question pied-à-terre at Chennai, or Madras (according to the era).
While I take three days translating my last prose, an Amritsarian friend of Stéphanie calls in at Delhi and shows his talents of turban maker/unmaker. Well, the hairy friend is a little bit shy and fears I don’t know what if Indians were to see his face on the Internet. Hence the password asked to watch the video whose the link. Little clue: it’s the city where ran aground my tragic and young existence for 16 years.
On Monday night, while Reverso is my best friend, the little courtyard takes alive with the brass bands’ tribal rythms for the two mariages celebrated one after the other, in the opposite ashram. We become paparazzis.
On Tuesday, I seriously start my search for a Hindi class for my French as a Foreign Language degree by correspondance. Later, I find on the internet a seemingly interesting option: Hindi Guru, classes of all levels for foreigners, with opportunity for short term, intensive classes (30 hours in two weeks). Pretty expensive (8000 rs, 120 euros), but that’s not suprising since expatriates are the target. I’m waiting a little bit more to see if I find something better, but if not I’ll opt for that solution. So we can start the machine. And besides the requirements for the degree, it’s also the occasion to progress in Hindi, at last, and this, in a short period of time.
I walk through Hindu College, where there is no class in these three first days of the week: it’s Mecca, the school’s festival. More people than what I expected, the atmosphere of a good ol’ kermesse at la Dézière (my primary school), and as guest stars, a Pakistani rock group.
The day is not over ; Devasia invited me to a lecture of the buddy Benedict Anderson, an Irish professor of Litterature, emeritus in Asian Studies. All the top academic people of the Indian capital, petit fours, distinguished humor, on the theme: “Rooted Cosmopolitanism And Its Political Preconditions“. The event of the year is taking place at the Indian Habitat Center, sprawling building ; it seems to me the heart of Delhite cultural life.
We continue the outing with the priest coming from the state of Kerala, on Thursday night. Full of courage, we take the plunge in the 2:42 hours of the documentary “Into great silence” (Philip Gröning, 2005), and to my great surprise, I stand fast. That “talks”, in French, subtitled in German and English, of the life of the Carthusian monks of the monastery of the Grande Chartreuse. Hardcore ascetism ; I met noisier (especially in Delhi) ; in any case it doesn’t lack interest. To be enjoyed between two confessions.
On Friday, it’s so hot in Delhi that the triennial shearing is essential.
Finally, on Monday 21st, it’s the festival of the Philosophy department of Hindu College. Modest event for that still young stream. Introduction with a mini-lecture of Vijay Tankha, head of the Philo department of the opposite St Stephen’s College, and incidentally husband of Upinder Singh, daughter of the Indian first minister ; in other words, the dad of my swing mate, Madhav. The day is spent between long breaks and little games : quiz, creative writing, ad mad (creation of an advertissement for some strange object), illogical reasoning (offering the most illogical reflection to complete a sentence beginning). Anyway, we still have fun, around here.
I’m leaving for Mumbai in a few tens of hours, then Goa for New Year’s Eve. I’ll have access to the Internet, but probably not much time to publish massively, in particular for photos and videos. Next article on my return then, a lot of kisses, happy holidays and good health!
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