The Bells are 'A-Ringing': Indiblogger and Breakthrough BELL BAJAO Event

The twitterati were 'a-twitter', the facebookers were going nuts,

All together to ring the bell, and display some guts

Together to say that women matter, to say that they care,

Together to explore what works: bitter medicine or prayer (the bollywoodian duaa versus dawaa debate)

Some said it is men, they need to take a vow,

Others said, how will they change overnight, yeh batao!

Patriarchy, socialisation, other big words were thrown around, 

The most honest opinions came from the women, connected to the ground

They said men want control, they want power,

They essentially want, to make women cower

Thus the stuck reservation bill, and the higher powers' indecision,

Men fear once women enter the scene, there will be retribution

They fear their ages old hushed-up lies will be out,

That women will run the world without any self-doubt

These women are true Sheroes, and there are millions of them in the world,

Silently waging their wars, fighting everything, that at them has been hurled

It wasn't however, a gloomy night, 

Music was in the air, the evening was gorgeous, and the colors were all bright

Young and old were enjoying the deliberations,

Clapping, cheering, while also twittering their frustrations

Eve Ensler, came alive, through Mahabanoo's evocative performance,

Goosebumps,  smiles, tears, and laughs for her absolute non-conformance

Swarathma rocked the stage and raised their melodious voice, 

Against child abuse, the shadiness of politics, and the absolute curbing of 'choice'

The crescendo however, was poised to be a real treat, 

Anoushka Shankar appeared and everyone's heart skipped a beat!

Breakthrough's efforts with Indiblogger deserve an applause,

The evening was amazing, without any pause

Hope the bells keep ringing for the BELL BAJAO campaign,

Pledge to work towards a world where women (and men) live without pain

Wish all women (and men) very happy women's days, weeks, months, and years,

Look forward to the day when the identity of a woman is because of who she is, and not because of those for whom she cares (i.e., her father, brother, son, husband etc.)

A visual journey through patriotism

A winter evening and the setting sun. And national pride flutters in the Delhi wind.

And now, the sun has set. The royal residence is aglow. The corridors of power, lit-up and shiny.

Fooooooooooooood Morning Delhi!!!!!

Rain-soaked, shivering, chilly Delhi. 

Tuesday morning, yawning lazily, rubbing its eyes as it slowly takes over from Monday night. The weather and the early morning making you crave for something unhealthily tasty. 

The ideal time for some Delhi-type gallivanting!

A trip to The Pracheen (ancient) Hanuman Mandir (Temple of the Hindu-God Hanuman) near Connaught Place or CP, is sure to get you food, both for the soul, and the tummy, all days of the week, but especially on such a wet, hungry, full of craving, Tuesday Morning.

Located on Baba Khadak Singh Road, the temple comes alive at about 4 in the morning (yes you read it right! 4 am), with a long queue forming for the Aarti or morning prayer. Tuesdays are particularly busy and full of excited energy. 

The temple complex, right opposite the long lane of State Handicraft Emporiums, has interesting flower and prasad shops, the typical offerings for the "Monkey-God". His favorite sweets 'Boondi' and 'Ladoos' are in ample supply, catering to the needs of the hungry souls and stomachs! 

In addition to the "sweet-tooth addict's dream come true" yummilicious Boondi (see picture above), the complex also offers some very interesting options like fresh and piping-hot bread pakoras, sinfully fried with besan (gram flour) on the outside and deliciously tender, with melt-in-the-mouth stuffing on the inside!

However, the star-attraction of the morning, in addition to Hanuman-ji, is not the bread-pakora but another deeply fried, oh-so-awesome, eagerly-awaited, snack, that has a long line of contenders waiting for it at the halwai-shop (sweet shop). 

While the batter gets literally battered, to get molded into these part-round, part-UFO  shaped delicacies, the crowd grows. People on cycles and in Audis, on foot and in Mercedes,  on Scooters and in rickshaws, stop and eagerly count the people standing in front of the shop, mentally estimating the time it will take for them to get their hands on some of the beautiful, golden-brown, fried awesumness. 

And then the wait ends. 

A huge basket of too-hot-to handle kachoris or fried flattened balls made of fine flour stuffed with a heavenly mixture of pulses and aromatic spices arrives. The excitement and eagerness is palpable, with all conversation ceasing, and everyone waiting to count how many are being bought by the people ahead in the queue. Hoping, and silently praying that all the hot ones wouldn't finish before their turn comes. 

The speed and efficiency in distribution is amazing. Out comes a small disposable bowl, in goes one kachori, on it goes a huge spoon of some spicy potato-gravy, and you are good to go. Oh, take-away is possible too. Some take 30 kachoris, with the potato-gravy packed separately, evidently to feed a waiting-in-anticipation family back home!

It is impossible to eat more than two! 

Heavily stuffed and smoking hot, the Kachoris are a perfect match for the rainy Delhi morning. Interesting, spicy, full of flavor and character, and perfect with a hot cuppa of tea, the snack is a reflection of everything Delhi is. 

So, while the homeless sleep on the footpath in the complex and ask for food as Tuesdays usually witness many people offering free food to those sitting around temples, people drive down in big cars to enjoy Kachoris and bread pakoras. The same contradiction that silently lives in all our cities.

But we overlook it. We are untouched by it. It is almost like a shadow, one that we can avoid.

We are happy to come for Aarti and bread pakoras, for tea and Kachoris, for peace for the soul and the stomach. We are happy to feel bad for "them", feel the correct amount of sadness while we devour the snacks and sip the tea. 

We go back, to come again another Tuesday morning, looking for God and food...for peace and satisfaction, and for the best Kachoris and tea in Delhi.