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New Indian Express
20-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- New Indian Express
Parathas, Pool Tables and Power Cuts
Moving to Delhi for college, I had my fears in order— unfamiliar subjects, unfamiliar people, and unfamiliar metro exits. But what I didn't factor in was how one year in a PG - could give me a crash course in the many layers of adult life. Unfamiliar city, pestering agents and, alluring pictures on the online websites vis-a-vis the dingy realities on site-visits were quite an experience in our search for a PG. I ultimately landed a top-floor room which seemed a sweet deal-spacious, breezy, with a balcony overlooking a silent, unused park and, an unobstructed view of the Indian flag fluttering at the Shakti Nagar crossroads. The first few months were deceivingly smooth. The bathroom was clean, the bed comfy, and we had an air conditioner of some brand I'd never heard of –Hercules. We'd start our days with an 8 a.m. breakfast - piping hot parathas or the omnipresent bread-omelette, made on the fourth floor, transported to the ground floor via lift - a mystery of logistics I gave up trying to understand. Sometimes chhole-kulche and pav bhaji joined the menu - the former much-hyped by Delhiites, the latter something I mentally crossed out after my first taste. Lunch was hit-or-miss since college usually extended beyond lunch hours, but it always was one of these - rajma-chawal, kadhi-chawal, chhole-chawal, or dal-chawal. Evenings were reserved for snacks - self-serve pani puri (with a potato filling that deeply offended my chickpea-loving Allahabadi heart), aloo tikki, or the occasional Chinese platter. Dinner was basic - dal, roti, and some revolving door of vegetables. Sundays brought excitement - chicken curry for meat lovers, butter paneer for vegetarians, and desserts like gulab jamun or gajar ka halwa. The day would end with rounds of pool or UNO. At that point, it truly felt like a home away from home.
New Indian Express
20-06-2025
- New Indian Express
Parathas, pool tables & power cuts: Life in Delhi PGs
Moving to Delhi for college, I had my fears in order— unfamiliar subjects, unfamiliar people, and unfamiliar metro exits. But what I didn't factor in was how one year in a PG - could give me a crash course in the many layers of adult life. Unfamiliar city, pestering agents and, alluring pictures on the online websites vis-a-vis the dingy realities on site-visits were quite an experience in our search for a PG. I ultimately landed a top-floor room with a balcony overlooking a silent, unused park and, an unobstructed view of the Indian flag fluttering at the Shakti Nagar crossroads. We'd start our days with an 8 a.m. breakfast. Lunch was always was one of these - rajma-chawal or kadhi-chawal. Evenings were reserved for snacks - self-serve pani puri (with a potato filling that deeply offended my chickpea-loving Allahabadi heart). Sundays meant chicken curry or butter paneer; the day would end with rounds of pool or UNO. At that point, it truly felt like a home away from home. The first sign of trouble began with the bed. The initial cosiness soon turned into a war between our backs and spines, prompting us to swap the mattress for a thinner one. As the months went by, the CCTV stopped working, biometric entries ceased, and the 24/7 guard developed a habit of disappearing for his 'scheduled cigarette moments.'
