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| CHANDNI
CHOWK |
| (Article
Submited by : Mr. Robert L. Williams) |
We had no automobile so my father and I
would often bicycle for supplies 14 miles to Chandni Chowk bazaar in
Delhi. The trip was dusty and hot but I always looked forward to
arriving in Delhi because the huge bazaar was quite exciting for me and
besides, I could find an ice-cream wala and enjoy a cool chocolate
covered delicacy on a stick.
We would wend our way slowly through the riot of color, sounds and
smells along endless narrow streets where an equally endless array of
babus would hawk every object known to man, and i suspect a few objects
known only to the Gods.
I loved to watch the ivory carvers make their incredible lacy globes
within globes, or the sandal-wood craftsmen fashion graceful religious
statues from the fragrant wood. By this time I knew enough Hindustani to
haggle like the other shoppers. My schoolmates taught me a little ditty,
which is best appreciated with the proper accent--
Once I was a Bengali Babu, in bazaar I keep my shop. One day I get
invitation, first- class ball to go and see. I put on my very best
cupra, everybody look at me. I see gen'man serving lady, so I try to do
my best. I spill one two soft custard on the lady's very best dress.
Mem- sahib getting goussa, tell me " JAO!" to leave the place.
Now I am a village chokra, every body laugh at me. |
