From morn till eve, my neighborhood is not one those perceptible Delhi neighborhoods where the sight is met by plump, grey haired Punjabi aunties trying hard to twist and bend their XL sized bodies to the whims of Ramdev’s yoga methods, while throwing wistful glances at those with more petite frames, or by older, jollier uncles running their Labradors or Golden Retrievers in the community park who simultaneously share loud guffaws with their little grandchildren.
Not that such a scenario is completely absent, but there’s a darker, shady side to such posh localities of North Delhi. No sooner evening falls, than the narrow alleys that form the backside of most of these luxuriously constructed houses become the hotbed of young lads in shaggy clothes lying carelessly on cold cement.. some half asleep.. others with lopsided heads and brooding faces.. some whose eyes seem to be staring at nothing in particular.. and others, poorer with almost no clothing, mustier flesh slumped dead against the wall.
As I step out of my apartment’s back door to purchase milk at 7 in the eve, I’m welcomed by this dreary sight. Those, particularly the younger ones who appear to be boys from the local government school, pass me leers and may even hiss or click their tongues if I happen to brush past them. The look in their stoned eyes is evil, foreboding and ludicrous. They don’t like me stepping into their portion of the road, or they enjoy it so much that I form the topic of their next hazy conversation. A quick glance at them reveals empty syringe tubes, hordes of Erase-X bottles, liquor bottles, bidis and more. They’re sitting amidst a pile of those- greedily sniffing their tubes/bottles/napkin or wherever the intoxicating drug may be. In most cases, one semi-stoned junkie is administering over another very-stoned one, blabbering slow, unidentifiable gibberish. As one helps the other inject the drug into his body, it is done with such great craft that the recipient feels no pain and is instead lifted to a higher trance. An incomprehensible murmur then emanates from his quivering lips as he lies slumped with his eyes shut. You could even be welcomed by a few wily swears, if you’re a woman passing by who catches his eye! Sometimes, one may come across cash deals being carried between these young men, consisting, of course, of the numerous injection doses and liquor.
A slightly appalling sight is when you not only encounter males, but even females strewn along such shady avenues. This class consists of thin, frail dark bodies wrapped in even more papery cloth of distinctly unrecognizable colors. Some may be seen crying.. beating their chests.. or simply lying unmoving by the side of their male counterparts. My memory holds the vision of one such group near the Hanuman Mandir at Connaught Place. What was more shocking was that there were little children crying piteously by the side of their semi unconscious parents.
Coming back to my neighborhood, it probably forms the favourite spot of young junkies in all of North Delhi. This implies that I have to be double careful of my safety and keep my guard at all time. The lustful letches with their wicked grins and snake-like tongues make a rather spiteful sight, and one cannot think of too many smart moves when they feature in your proximity, considering they’re regulars in your area. But how you wish you could swat them with one blow! And how you also wish, were there a tad more security in your area, you wouldn’t have faced this daily evening ritual of humiliation but rather let your hair down and walked with greater assurance of safety! On a somewhat distant thought, you also strongly wish your government could take the responsibility of not just your dignified security but also of the well being these many young lads who’re out there crumbling their budding lives in their own hands and enjoying it all the same.
