IITF Diary 2: Rush for tickets, Gumshuda ki Talash and Geographic Confusion

The last weekend of IITF witnessed a huge rush for tickets. As online tickets and those at metro station counters got sold out, scores of people were standing outside Gate No. 10, desperately looking for some means to enter. An officer of our pavilion was saying that random people was stopping him, pointing to his exhibitor pass and asking where did he get it. It reminded me of last year when I was standing at the Gate to assist media entry for a press meet and people were coming up and offering Rs 500 for the complimentary passes I was carrying. This time, while entering through Gate 10, I heard a man telling his wife, "bachhon ka school ID se entry karwa do, phir dekhte hai." I was wondering what if the kids end up like Abhimanyu, entering the Chakravyuh but never coming out.

Along with the rush, started continuous announcements for lost companions and items. One stood out, as a high-pitched note was heard in the public address system, "Bina jee, Bina jee", followed by the announcer's voice, "Binajee, jo CR Park se ayi hai, aapke liye --jee yahan intezar kar rahi hai. Aapke god mein unka baby bhi hai". I understood that the shrill voice represented a mother's panic-stricken state. Hope they were reunited. As for lost goods, people were as hopeful as "kisi bhi sajjan ko ek 1plus5T mobile phone mila ho toh yahan jama karwaye" (I don't think such a sajjan exists) and as specific as "ek safed rang ki thaila mein ek maroon rang ki suit agar kisiko mila ho to..."

With all the states bundled up in Hall 12-12A, people were running from one to another in a frenzy. "Arre Bangal chal lo, saree dekhna hai"; "Kerala hogaya"? It can lead to odd geographical statements such as "Haan main Rajasthan mein hoon...arre Chhattigarh se left lekar Andaman Nicobar ke pass".

The best statement I overheard today was by a man who was telling his wife "mujhe toh aaj 10,000 rupaye kharch karna hai." The woman said "kuchh dhang ka na mile, toh bhi"? I was thinking why then in WhatsApp jokes it is always the woman who spends unwisely?

IITF Diary 1: Cacophony and carpet

Duty at India International Trade Fair involves a lot of madness, more so in recent years as thousands of visitors jostle each other in a much-reduced space (the fair is being held at a temporary set-up due to renovation work at Pragati Maidan). To unwind, I am sharing some snippets of happenings as I witnessed:

Cacophony: Hall12A, housing state and UT stalls, is offering a strange ensemble of sound and music. A Gandhi@150 stall is blaring "Vaishnav Jana To" at full volume, interspersed by shouts of "Chana Zor Garam" and "Bhelpuri, Bhelpuri" from nearby Rajasthan stall. Someone at the public address system is droning on and on about plastic ban, most of his words coming out garbled and tired. A group of folk artists from Haryana is adding to the orchestra with "clank, clank" sound of the manjira, while Mr. Sameer from Maharashtra is creating the loudest blasts of noise with his "tutari". Also known as "ranashringa", it used to be a war trumpet, but trade fair is a battle no less.

Carpet: It is said that the wall-to-wall carpet at Terminal 3 of Delhi airport is not to the liking of many passengers, but the same at IITF is a hit. Tired after a day's shopping, the families and their trolley bags, both with bellies full of stuff, rest on the carpet. Yesterday, I saw an elderly couple - the man sitting with his legs stretched, the wife fast asleep beside him, using her bulging shopping bag as a pillow. Sometimes, one may witness minor mishaps too. A kid of around 2 years was playing in front of our stall last evening. The Hall was getting emptied, but the boy's mother was still haggling with the stole- seller a few metres away. The boy, unattended, first started "swimming" over the carpet, then took his milk bottle and let a few drops spill over. When he started rubbing his hand over it, a call came and I had to return to the office cabin, hoping that he did not lick his hand afterwards.

A Tree on My Wall

Maa would always stress on the value of time and it is deeply ingrained in me. So, instead of updating my bank KYC, I used my free time on a Saturday a few months back to paint a tree on a wall of my rented flat. The branches were a bit disproportionate, but I was feeling happy.

I am very brave when I am impulsive, so when some doubts occurred, ki landlady kya bolegi, I prepared a reply. I will tell her, "jane ke pehle painting karwa dungi" (I never understood yahan whitewash ko painting kyon kehte hai).

My middle-class Punjabi landlady is a good person (she didn't increase the rent since the last two years) but looks very stern, so I am awkward in front of her. Since the tree, I stopped telling her about small repairs or "pani nahi aa raha hai" issues as I didn't want her to see my "art".

But last evening, the bell rang and she was there! "Beta, agreement renew karwaya, sign kar do. Main khud hi aa gayi, aapko kya niche bulate iske liye." Now, I am torn between happiness (rent iss bar bhi nahi badhaya) and fear, trying to cover the tree with my huge 5 ftx10 inches body frame.

But within a few seconds, her eyes fell on it and following conversation happened.

Aunty: Beta, yeh aapne banaya?
Me: haan aunty, jane ke pehle painting karwa dungi (prepared reply)
Aunty (slightly irritated) arre, uske liye nahi bol rahi hoon, yeh achcha banaya hai.
Me (too surprised): haan, tree banaya, acrylic colour se (of course, it's a tree, stupid, she can see it)
Aunty: Haan woh toh dikh raha hai (tree toh thik banaya, par iss bewakoof ladki ko sarkari naukri kaise mil gayi?)

Whatevs, agreement renew hogaya. So the tree stays for another year.