Happy, healthy and harmonious living

By the way, I forgot to mention the celebrations on India's Independence Day.

15 August must be the only day of the year where people - young and old, and from different strata of society - come together to celebrate something.

Of course, weddings and other festivities bring people together too - but these tend to be socially-conscious celebrations.

The morning began with loudspeakers blaring patriotic songs from Hindi films. Even after decades of listening to these songs, they still generate a patriotic fervour.

My little girl was excited to see a tent pitched up in the park opposite our house. The same park where a small birthday picnic for her - earlier in the year - had caused hassles.

The tent was decorated with buntings in the Indian tricolour and the shrubs and trees all over the park had tricolour kites hanging to them. Inside, the cushioned chairs are arranged in neat rows in front of a stage.

It had rained the previous night, so the chairs were still wet. And strangely enough, the wettest chairs seemed to be those closest to the four pedestal fans. It was a tough choice, but the humid morning swung it in favour of chairs near the fan.

The programme started 15 minutes later than scheduled. Which is as good as starting on time. The opening remarks were followed by a "Cultural Function" - which involved children from the locality and those from charitable schools supported by its older residents of the locality.

Each new act was introduced with a lengthy tribute to the person "who has devoted all his energy and time on these not-so-fortunate children".

The grown-ups encouraged the acts with attention and applause, but the younger lot were distracted by Pepsi, Sprite, Fanta and other such things on the snack-counter. Even my daughter started feeling thirsty and needed a glass of Sprite urgently.

With the thirst taken care of, the kids rushed to grab the kites so neatly arranged around the park.

The brave performers, though, carried on - singing songs of national pride and dancing like the brave warriors of India's independence struggle.

Soon it was time for the speeches. Sometimes, I wonder what do these old, retired people do on the other 364 days of the year. Do they practice their speech? Or fine-tuning it? Whatever be the case, the quality of speeches hasn't improved in all the years that I have participated in such festivities.

The head of the organising committee said it was a special Independence Day, as the local Residents' Welfare Association had invited the President of its arch-rival, Residents' Housing Society, to be the chief guest.

"This is the first time in the history of our two societies that such a thing has happened. And I am so proud of this achievement.

"Before we ask the wider society and nation to live in harmony, we must bury our differences and live in harmony with the residents of this housing society".

He then went on to list all the good work that his group had done to make the locality a sought-after address in Delhi.

The Chief Guest, too, was gracious. His simple message to the residents was "Happy, healthy and harmonious living for all residents of this locality".

Both sides joined hands to unfurl the Indian tricolour, let loose the rose petals, and sing the national anthem.

The kids, meanwhile, were busy improving their collection of tricolour kites. And if it needed a nudge or a push, they were more than willing to do it.

It was only the promise of a meal-box that got them back to the tent. The box had samosa, kachori, sandwich and gulab jamun in it.

A sense of deja vu

Just over a month to return to the United Kingdom, and it seems like yesterday once more.

Smarter from my experience of moving from to Delhi, I kicked off the process at the beginning of July 2010 - allowing an additional month more than the last time.

The process was the same. Me to the Manager. The Manager to the HR Person. The HR Person to the Outsourced Arm. The Outsourced Arm to their Shortlisted Removal Firms. The only additional step this time were the Indian contractors of the Shortlisted Removal Firms.

Maybe it's the time of the year or just how the process works, but the experience was exactly the same as in 2009. Nudge, nudge. No response. Nudge, nudge. We are working on it. Nudge, nudge. A lull in the process. Nudge, nudge. Yes, we are working on it. Nudge, nudge. Panic. More nudge, nudge. More panic. Finally, the packer/mover calls less than a week before the due date to confirm the job will be done.

Fortunately, this time we don't have a flight to catch the day after our stuff leaves. Unfortunately, the collision of MSC Chitra and MV Khalijia may have caused a backlog at Mumbai's Jawaharlal Nehru Port. You should allow six-to-eight weeks for it to reach destination, the removal firm's representative has told us.

Given that a similar timescale for our stuff to reach India turned into nearly 12 weeks, we are keeping our fingers crossed and hoping for the best.

With the clock ticking, we are trying to make the most of our time. On Monday evening, we drove across town to Noida for dinner and pre-Rakhi celebrations at a friend's.

It was a rare weekday evening foray, but we could only brave it as the next day was a public holiday.

Rakhi isn't a festival that registers on your radar in the UK. It is very difficult to miss it here, though. The shops start selling all kinds of rakhis, the newspapers and TV are full of commercials promising lucrative Rakhi Offers. At the school too, they tell the student about the festival.

To the little one, we tie rakhis so that brothers can protect their sisters, if someone bothers them. Right? She had even picked up a song for the occasion - rakhi ka pyara yeh bandhan, rakhi ka pyara yeh bandhan.....

At the friend's place, she was excited to see the girls tying to tie rakhi to the boys. After carefully monitoring the ritual, she choose the friend's son to be her brother - tying the rakhi first, then stuffing his mouth with sweets.

The evening was a nice, spontaneous do - just like the ones we used to have. Good company. Good food. Good booze.

I missed the music though. Our earlier do's would be incomplete without songs, but I guess all of us have toned down with the arrival of kids.

On the way back, I lost the way and found myself on the Greater Noida Expressway. This speedster's paradise doesn't allow any u-turns (through underpasses or overhead bridges) and added 50 kilometres (30 miles) and 45 minutes to our journey.

It was nearly 1 in the morning, but I couldn't help wonder how do people working or staying on the other side of road, commute. I mean isn't it idiotic to expect them to cover the entire expressway twice to get to their destination.

Tuesday was Rakhi, the first time in 11 years that I was home for the festival. My sisters were really happy and looking forward to the day. And given the joys of the previous evening, the little one was pretty excited about tying the rakhi to her cousin brother.

Two of my three sisters are in town, and it was great to have rakhis tied by them.

The little one too tied rakhi to her cousin. The cousin presented her with a box of Cadbury's Celebrations chocolates (I told you about TV commercials). It didn't take long for the two of them to finish off the entire box.

Still raining in Delhi

More than a month since I last wrote. In that time, it has been raining constantly in Delhi. Much worse downpour than the one mentioned in my last post.

Haven't seen this much rain in a long time in the last 15 years, a colleague remarked at this morning's editorial meeting.

River Yamuna - which resembles a dirty stream most of the time - is flowing above the danger mark. The civic infrastructure in Delhi is creaking under the pressure of nature. Flooded roads. Traffic jams. Outbreak of monsoon-related illnesses. Even in the neighbouring, millennium city of Gurgaon, the living rooms of some posh addresses have turned into paddling pools and the roads resemble dirt-tracks in some Indian village.

Even the Commonwealth Games have not been spared. Conspiracy theorists suggest it is nature's way of getting back at the reported corruption in the organising of this Games. Supporters suggest the nature is helping with rigorous quality tests for the Commonwealth Games infrastructure!!

Civil authorities are confused. If they spend time sorting out problems raised by Delhi's residents, work related to the Commonwealth Games suffers. If work related to the Games suffers, the nation's prestige takes a battering.

The other day, I took a friend for a lunch to Connaught Place. This pride of Delhi has been like a war-zone for over a year. Municipal authorities wanted to turn it into a pedestrians' paradise, but turned it into a hazard-perception game, instead.

The only missing link were subways, connecting Connaught Place to the arterial roads outside. The subways have been around for long, but used sparingly because they are dirty and provide shelter to unsavoury characters. Municipal authorities put these "under repair" too, leaving pedestrians with only one option - sprint through the traffic to get to Connaught Place.

My friend is in her sixties and doesn't have the athletic prowess to master this course. So, getting to the restaurant in Connaught Place's outer circle and then making her way to an airline office took two hours - instead of the 25 minutes or so before the municipal authorities started their work.

At home, our little daughter is enjoying Delhi rain. Unlike the all-season drizzle of the UK, rains in Delhi follow months of heat and feels nice on your skin. And the little one is making the most of it. If it is raining on a weekend, she is likely to be found drenching herself and dancing in the balcony.

Would have loved to post the pictures and videos of her in the rain, but one has to be careful with such things on the internet.

There is something endearing about her fascination and love for rains. As a child, I used to be excited about monsoons. There was something fun about reaching school soaked, getting permission to take the shoes/socks and walking barefoot in classrooms.

Not anymore. Schools expect parents to bring in their wards clean and dry. And the grown-ups just wishes that it stopped raining. Or that it rained at convenient times, like when everyone is asleep.

The trouble is there is no planning in this urban construction boom, a friend's father said over the weekend. A city like Delhi generally needs a sewage system and a network of storm drains. If you look around, storm drains in every locality have been covered up by ramps, tiny gardens or parking space. Since these drains are not visible, no one cleans or desilts them. So when it rains, the drains clog up and sewage system isn't capable of draining out a sudden and massive downpour.

The man should know. He spent his working life with Delhi's main municipal body and helped plan some of the areas.If the sanctioning authorities had their way, every conceivable inch of green space would have a building on it. And the malls - don't forget the malls - as residents in all localities seem to want them. They recently proposed that half the public park next to our house be given up for a shopping complex. It only stopped because the residents challenged it.

So what about the storm-drains? Are the local residents doing something about it? Not exactly. I am ashamed to say this, but the storm-drain even outside my own house is covered by a ramp.