Neon Nights

Disclaimer: Do not try this under any circumstance. It is seriously injurious to your health and modesty!


I hopped out of my auto. It was still few minutes to dark, the vendors were screaming louder to sell all that they had to so they could return home with cheap liquor and some peanuts. I peeped into the little scrap of paper I was clutching in my hand trying to locate the address I scribbled in hurry. Unable to find it, I sought for some local help. The man muttered something to another autowallah and in a few minutes and few blocks away he stopped.


I admit I was woozy after the long flight from Bombay and was quite disoriented and in that state did not bother to enquire where I was being taken, I was just happy to know I was going somewhere. I got down again and as a practice tried to look for some clues below the signboards. I read P-A-H-A-R-G-A-N-J. It sounded familiar at first and without too much thinking I paid the driver and started walking to find a place to stay for the night.


Cheap and affordable was written all over the place but what wasn’t is all that i figured in that one night. I quickly checked into a hotel called Chanchal. I know the name sounds funny but it was the only place which was affordable and I saw many foreigners getting in so I thought it would be clean as well. After the ritual I left to look for some place to eat. It was 9.30 and it looked as if the city had begun to snooze already. I hand cycled my way to Connaught Place and spotted Moti Mahal. I grinned like a glutton and quickly settled for a nice meal of Biryani, Saag and Raita.


By 11 p.m. I retreated but Delhi being Delhi I couldn’t find a ride to the hotel for a long time. Having nothing to do, I thought of walking down as it wouldn’t be more than a 20 minute walk. I reached Paharganj and it looked as an entirely different place. In two hours it turned into something I wouldn’t have chosen to stay in. There were men of all sizes and shapes looking at me lustily. I increased my pace and they hankered after me. I heard comment flying from all direction and hitting me like arrows of filth and disgust. I cursed the man who murmured into the ears of my autowallah, I cursed the relative whose address I couldn’t find and cursed the night.

I sensed the red neon signboards screaming at me as though I had entered a place I shouldn’t have. This was Paharganj for you. I swear those five minutes on the streets of Paharganj left me feeling not just raped but exhaustingly overpowering. The gaze, the stench of sick craving and above all the neon lights reduced me to a piece of meat.

I pranced my way quickly and reached my room huffing and thanking God for all that did not happen but could have. Many must have got lucky that night and I was just lucky to not.