Sometimes your destination will need more than just exact address. I have never reached any place in Delhi by giving the exact address: Flat name, Building name, Road, District, Pincode. Let's just keep the google map reliant uber examples aside for this, please. For me, reaching a place has always required knowing about other places. Especially knowing roads. Road names. Then there are times when knowing road names is also a confusion. So we are drawn to landmarks, like post office, big transformer, samose ke dukaan, all famous structures in little localities.
Subramania Bharti Marg is a long stretch of road. Named after a poet, this is a significant road in Delhi: At one end is the Lodhi Garden. At the other end is the Purana Quila. In between Khan Market, government colonies, private and government schools, MP houses, museums and India Gate, all dot it like scooters and rickshaws in a vegetable market early in the morning. But is that the real significance of this road?
Subramania Bharti Marg is a long stretch of road. Named after a poet, this is a significant road in Delhi: At one end is the Lodhi Garden. At the other end is the Purana Quila. In between Khan Market, government colonies, private and government schools, MP houses, museums and India Gate, all dot it like scooters and rickshaws in a vegetable market early in the morning. But is that the real significance of this road?
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| Subramani Bharti Marg in Nov Smog |
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| The road from a different location |
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| The road when the traffic clears |
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| The road when the traffic red light signals |
Ever since Bharat Mandapam opened, Subramania Bharti Marg has seen frequent closures, especially due to VIP movement. The road intersects with Zakir Hussain Marg, a road that can lead you to Sunder Nursery from one side, India Gate and National Gallery of Modern Art from the other end -- all depending on the direction you are traveling in.
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| Dianthus blooming in March |
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| Semal tree with its seed pods ready to take April air |
But what draws me really to this road is its walkability; the way trees shade you here. In March and April, I have seen red bottle brush blooming like RED here. (Well not a good example of simile there. But that's what I really mean. You can spot it from afar.) Red bottle brush colours the ground red and also the mid sky. There should be a word for the sky that is within your reach when you are looking at it through these trees. The air space between you and the canopy of the tallest tree seems to be just a hand stretch away. In March, you will also spot the red flower of Semal as you raise your head. Being in the NDMC area, you will also find purple-white petunias flowering on the side corners and pavements along the road.
Two years back, on the same road, you would have found a few green mazaars too. Those landmarks have disappeared now. Ever since bulldozer started becoming a popular term in everyday language, no one has any idea about how and what happened to the mazaars or how they were demolished. Everyone I try to talk to just says they were demolished. ‘It all happened in the early morning’ is all that I hear. Now there is no trace left.
Except for the directions of regular commuters who keep these structures alive through voice and gestures. While hailing autos, I have asked drivers to drop me at the mazaar. Now I give them the name of this significant road which ends (seems to) at the Zoological Park. Since going to Zoological Park now requires taking an extra kilometre or two, the auto drivers charge quite extra. But those who are regular commuters have ways to communicate the actual distance. They take names of trees. They use the names of bus stops. They take names of nearby colonies. They describe the park adjacent to where once the mazaar was. They say mazaar as a story just beginning to wake from an afternoon nap in the hot afternoon of May, 'the place where there was a mazaar'. The driver takes that as his cue to understand that this person really knows the way and perhaps even has a lot of time to share her information. The auto driver does not have all day or a diary or a word document. He agrees and drops you at the where the mazaar was.
Two years back, on the same road, you would have found a few green mazaars too. Those landmarks have disappeared now. Ever since bulldozer started becoming a popular term in everyday language, no one has any idea about how and what happened to the mazaars or how they were demolished. Everyone I try to talk to just says they were demolished. ‘It all happened in the early morning’ is all that I hear. Now there is no trace left.
Except for the directions of regular commuters who keep these structures alive through voice and gestures. While hailing autos, I have asked drivers to drop me at the mazaar. Now I give them the name of this significant road which ends (seems to) at the Zoological Park. Since going to Zoological Park now requires taking an extra kilometre or two, the auto drivers charge quite extra. But those who are regular commuters have ways to communicate the actual distance. They take names of trees. They use the names of bus stops. They take names of nearby colonies. They describe the park adjacent to where once the mazaar was. They say mazaar as a story just beginning to wake from an afternoon nap in the hot afternoon of May, 'the place where there was a mazaar'. The driver takes that as his cue to understand that this person really knows the way and perhaps even has a lot of time to share her information. The auto driver does not have all day or a diary or a word document. He agrees and drops you at the where the mazaar was.
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| A mazaar bounded this tree |
Next Month  |
| Mazaar was gone. So was the tree. |
The tree was gone
And so was June.
And so was June.