We found ourselves in familiar territory once more when Gladys and I came out of Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi. But unlike the last time we were there (summer of ’05), the weather was cool and the drive to the Meridien in a chauffered car, complete with uniformed driver compliments of the hotel, was quite pleasant. There was no traffic yet at 5:30AM.
My boss had booked us, along with a couple of guests from Kuwait, three nights for his daughter’s wedding. Most of the ceremonies were to be held in the hotel itself. We had nothing to do the whole day but catch up on sleep and watch TV until lunchtime. After a great meal at the Golden Phoenix Chinese restaurant, we ventured outside and walked to the nearby Janpath market to look for comfortable loafers since the wife, not used to high heels, forgot to bring a pair.
Me with the "tuktuks" along Janpath Road
Traffic on the roundabout that we crossed was quite maddening with all sorts of vehicles rushing helter-skelter. And many tuktuk drivers (Delhi's 3-wheeled cabs), taking us for gullible tourists which we weren't, tried to give us a ride for twenty rupees saying that the market was far away when in fact, it was just two blocks from the hotel.
The place was crammed with all sorts of individual shops that lined the main thoroughfare all the way to Connaught Place which was a major shopping district in the city. We spent a good 3 hours there and I ended up with a pair of good leather sandals which she bought for me not because I needed them but because they were dirt cheap – 275/- rupees of real leather. She also got the usual pasalubong bric-a-brac which I had to lug around. Sometimes it makes me wonder whether there is a pasalubong gene in our genetic make-up as Pinoys. Because the moment you arrive at a particular destination, you automatically think of buying up stuff “for the folks back home”.
Gladys in her best element - the marketplace
Heading back to the hotel, we passed by a bigger outdoor market that looked a lot like Divisoria. Here, it was both a hawker’s and buyer’s paradise with everything displayed in temporary stalls or hastily-assembled tables. There were shoes, clothes, fabrics, leather accessories, trinkets, beads….it went on and on. To cut our meandering short and get Gladys out of her private nirvana, I told her I had a throbbing headache so could we go back to the hotel already.
By 8:00 o’clock, we attended the cocktails in one of the function rooms where the bride (Nitika) and groom (Karthik) were introduced to the guests. There was a band playing traditional Indian music, a professional dancer putting on a show, henna tattooing, and later, much dancing for everyone. Gladys got a henna job on both hands with very intricate patterns. I was surprised that she went for it considering that the tattoo would stay on her hands for about two weeks. But I think she was game to try something different on this trip.
The women in their finest regalia: the bride in pink (right photo) and her sister with bouquet (left photo)
We enjoyed the sumptuous buffet very much and the drinks flowed freely. It was fun seeing familiar faces from Kuwait who came for the occasion and I told Raj that he should have just chartered one Airbus to fly us all in and make a neat profit on the side. The riot of brightly-colored silk sarees worn by the women was quite astounding. There was one American girl who stood over six feet tall and looked very statuesque in a saree - it takes poise and a certain panache to elegantly don the Indian national costume. She was Nitika's old college chum in Georgia Tech and she said that she specifically had five sarees made for the wedding.
And so we ate, drank and chatted for hours with old friends and new-found friends as well. By the time we called it quits, it was already past midnight.
