[Reader-list] Letters from NM 01

[CM@Nangla]

Of late.
“Jaanu”

Of late, Nangla seems to be emptying. When I step out for a walk in the
evening, there are fewer people in the lanes. Till recently, I used to have
to watch my step; but now it seems to me I can walk without care. The group
of men who had made the threshold of one of their houses their usual spot
to play cards, were a usual sight till late. I haven't seen them around for
some days now. Far fewer people can be seen in the market. Sellers sit
around, waiting, with nothing to do. A friend tells me he gets ample space
to play these days. Earlier he either had to make do with little, or had to
“capture” space. People who manage or own eating places say a lot of
food gets left over from the day, even though they prepare it in quantities
that would usually get consumed in a single day. Fewer CDs and television
sets are being rented out from shops. Public toilets don't open at 4:30 AM
as before. The person who mans the STD phone booth says almost no one comes
to make calls these days. Maybe now they don't need a phone to keep in
touch with the places they used to call up till now...



“Where?”
Ankur

Manilal reached Shershah school to get his daughter admitted. 
The teacher asked, “Where do you live?”
“In Nangla Maanchi,” Manilal said.
“Where is that?”
“Do you know the road that leads to Noida from in front of Pragati
Maidan? It's on that same road, beyond the red light immediately after
Pragati Maidan.”
“Yes, I know. The swamps with a few bushes... almost a lake... But there
aren't any houses there,” she said, trying to recollect the place.
“But now there is, madamji,” Manilal said.

It was quite difficult to explain. No one used to go to this place that
Manilal was talking about. Everyone used to pass by it along the Ring Road
that lay in front of it. Then four to five families filled up some parts
with sand and built their houses there. They covered as much area as they
could manage. These were houses without walls, with a tarpaulin sheet as
the roof. People who lived there would be out in the city all day, and
return here in the evening. They felt lonely here. There would be darkness
all around them in the evening. Lights twinkling inside the few houses in
the expanse of the swamp would deepen the darkness. No one came near their
houses at night while they slept. In the morning, everyone would wake up to
the same four or five people around them.

Manilal was one of these people. He knew as much land as he could labour
and fill  would be his. He was quite clever. He made a lot of land his own
by filling it. He had come to the city alone, but now he decided to call
his family from the village. His brother-in-law was the first to arrive.
They made some plans, filled up and acquired land according to their
calculations, and built their house over it. Then both of them called their
wives and children.

In this way, some more people came and settled there. Then an environment
began to form – residents would go to work in the morning, return in the
evening, buy household items from the neighbouring Maharani Bagh, Bhogal,
Ashram, cook at home, chat with their children.

This is when Manilal decided to get his daughter Minu admitted in school.
She got admission in the first standard. Now Manilal would drop her to
school, and pick her up when school ended. When, on the way back from
school, he would ask the bus conductor for a ticket to Nangla, the
conductors would ask, “For where?” Then Manilal would tell them the
same thing he had told the teacher. But slowly, the settlement grew and
expanded, and with that, news about it percolated into the city.

CM Lab, Nangla Maanchi
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Pyaason ki pyaas bujhata hai Nangla,
Dilli mein aane walon ka basera hai Nangla.
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