Paradise Lost for a Medal

Don’t get me wrong. I am extremely proud about Sushil Kumar getting a Bronze Medal in the Beijing Olympics, but couldn’t he hail from some other place in Delhi than Baparola village!

For the last five months, we (me and my fiancée) considered the link loads from Najafgarh to Rohtak Road, crossing villages like Neel Bal, Dichau, Hiran Kudna and Baparola to be our exclusive property. I have been driving in and around Delhi for the last 23 years, but hardly have seen such scenic roads before. The flat, black, bitumen roads stretch miles in front of your eyes, beyond the single layer of bordering trees lie acres of green, cultivated land, small lakes pass by, and you see another car crossing yours may be after 10 minutes. Paroquets and pigeons form dense shapes against the dark, cumulus cloud; sky meets the green in the horizon without any dot of the concrete.

Often did we see the thundering rains sprinting towards us over the fields, the maize and wheat plants bending on the ground as storm raged by…we stopped the car on the roadside and looked out in awe as the white blanket of rains enveloped us, almost caressed us.

On the sunny days, we spilled out from our car, scooped out fresh radishes from the field, spoke to the Haryanvi belles carrying baleful of maize plants on their heads, their whole body swaying on an even rhythm. We had tea with the Jat families in their sparse, grim outer rooms, while their children played with huge cows and buffaloes near the door.

Only we knew that such exotic places existed in Delhi, just 6-7 kilometres from Metro-marred Nagloi, four kilometres from the dirty congestion of Najafgarh and the planned monstrosity called Dwarka.

Over the last two days, at least 30 friends and colleagues have asked me where is Baparola. And I can imagine the future…Sardars and Sardarnis in their Hyundai Santro, Rajasthani upstarts in their Honda Civic and middle-class Bengalis in their vintage Premier Padminis (maximum speed 20 kmph, horns welcome) making a beeline on the Hiran Kudna Road, having loud picnics on the small oases in the wayside, re-discovering the sprawling, modern temple complex near Neel Bal.

And me and my fiancee searching for another place to get farther from the madding crowd.

All because of a piece of bronze.