Now known as Dwarka, this little extension of the Delhi city
was earlier known as Pappankalan, a part of the territory of the then Mughal
oppressors, the Dahiyas. It is said that the leader defeated the reigning king
of Delhi by forcing him to a refuge in the forest.
I happened to be in modern-time Dwarka sub-city the other day
because of a casual meet with a close friend. The time of the day and the
grumbling our stomachs made us enter this funny-looking restaurant in a
far-away sector of the sub-city. I say funny-looking because for one, it had no
name and secondly for its odd appearance. It looked pretty ancient from outside
but through a small window on the door, we could see a world so different, so
amusing. As we entered, we were greeted by a clown, this one too small for his
costume. He dragged his clothes and himself in front of us, leading us to the
table.
We did not get menu cards. What we got was a pad and a
pencil and a grumpy old man for a waiter. He told us we could order anything,
just that it shouldn’t have an A in it. Odd, I thought. Amusing, thought my
friend. So, we wrote down a list.
Noodles
Chilly Chicken
Mutton Rolls
Beer
Pretty neat, I thought, after being given a restriction. The
old man took the order and compelled his body to move towards the kitchen. I do
remember having a wholesome meal. And I also remember where it led us next.
What I don’t remember is how it got us there.
The sip of my last beer had transported me across dimensions
and into a world totally oblivious to our imagination. Houses were typical
huts, somewhat cartoon-like with the crayon lines coming out. Trees, somehow
real but largely abundant in leaves. We started walking across the rocky path,
the sandy path, the concrete path, the…don’t remember, the clay path, the
wooden path and finally on to a boat in the desert.
The boat floated weightlessly on the green water, taking us
to an island. On the island, the only thing to be seen was an enormous coliseum.
We got off the boat and followed a monkey, through a forest, a desert, a marshland
and a ditch which was nowhere to be seen from the boat. I think the way towards
the coliseum was probably guarded by an invisible wall of sorts because we took
about an hour to cross it. Finally, the monkey forced out a screech from his
mouth, asking us to enter.
It was a massive piece of land in the form of an arena and
the crowd was almost outpouring. We made our space in the audience and wondered
who was fighting. From the collective sound of the audience, we gathered a
name, Harya Harpal.
On the arena we
saw, like a projection a fight between two armies. Enticing and enigmatic, the
fight made our eyes glitter. I closed my eyes and hauled it open again. What I saw
in front of me was the upper rim of a glass and a distorted face of my friend.
I put the beer glass down. Something made us get up and walk
out of that funny-looking restaurant. A little further we stopped, wondering
what had we just experienced. We turned back and realized we had walked out of a
bare wall. A bare wall with some unfathomable force which took us back to
Pappankalan.
Comments