My tryst with history

It is not every day that someone makes a tryst with history. My moment came in June 2007 when I went to Delhi for the first time. I really cannot describe the excitement I felt when I went exploring the most romantic city in the world. Delhi, the old Mughal capital, the city Mirza Ghalib passionately wrote poems about. The high point obviously was the trip to Old Delhi. It was indeed an experience to see the modern high-rise buildings, fast food outlets and shopping malls slowly fade away to the charm of the Red Fort, The Jama Masjid and Humayun’s Tomb.

Due to lack of time, the only place I could visit was the Jama Masjid. Walking through the busy Sunday bazaar of Chandni Chowk, I saw the elevated structure doggedly braving time, yet, majestically towering over the street. I tried to conjure up an image of the Jama Masjid as it was during the Mughal times. I could imagine Theophilus Metcalfe and his infantry run up that very road I was walking on to capture the jehadis who were based in the Jama Masjid during the siege of Delhi in 1857. Chandni Chowk still retains the charm of the old world. The narrow lane leading to the Mosque and the street vendors on either side of the road calling out to prospective customers seemed no different from how it might have been a century and a half ago.

While entering the lofty tower-like gateway, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer majesty of this building of red sandstone. It has been nearly four centuries since it was built. Of course, it would have had its share of stories to tell me and I was listening. Climbing up the worn out steps up to the northern gate, I walked into this sanctuary with reverence for those who built it and for the religion that inspired its construction.

Once inside the Jama Masjid, I walked to the wide open courtyard. There were people sitting beside the reservoir in the middle of the courtyard and cooling their feet. I was taken back to a time when Delhi was the abode of Emperors. I could see the Princes, the Nobles and the common folk of Mughal Delhi offering their prayers, I could see the jehadis hiding from the British and the Sikh Regiment setting up camp in that very courtyard after the siege in 1857.

Despite the sweltering summer heat and the crowd inside the Masjid complex, I silently lived my moment through history. I stood in awe of the massive domes and the hall with its Islamic arched entrances under these domes. On its walls of white marble were inscriptions inlaid with black marble narrating the story of the building of the Mosque and words glorifying the reign of the monarch who built it-Shah Jahan.

As I stepped out of the Masjid, I realized how detached our generation is from the history and heritage of this country when my friend commented that despite being in Delhi all his life, he had never been to the Jama Masjid until that day. I turned back one last time and stood for a moment in respectful silence to the men who built it and in respect to the four hundred years of history this majestic Mosque has seen. Shah Jahan has rightly named it “Masjid-i-Jahan Numa” (the Mosque commanding a view of the world).

The 'Red Label Incident'

The best part about life is the different characters you get to meet at every step along the way. Ron Thomas is one such character who made my last two years of school a laugh riot and definitely worth remembering. Ron is someone who stands testimony to the phrase “appearances can be deceptive.” At first sight, he will seem to you as a serious, refined and intellectual guy. But then, my association with Ron did go beyond the first meeting and that’s where my story lies! Like any typical adolescent boy, Ron too was fascinated by the opposite sex, and his attempts at finding himself a girlfriend will fill volumes if anyone ever decides to write about it!

Ron Thomas is handsome. He fits a description of the word perfectly- square jaw, nice eyes, a charming smile and all that. Sadly, that’s where it all ends. The poor guy is twenty paise short of a rupee in the head! Perpetually spaced out, he is the source of many a classic comment such as this one for example;

“Let’s go for ice cream. Ah, ice cream! Should be cold!”

Now, do you see my point? That is just one example of what we call “Ron-isms”. They were so popular in school that some of us still quote him!

Every time we old friends from school get together, there is one incident that is often repeated and each time, it never fails to have us rolling on the ground with laughter. We call it the ‘Red Label’ episode. It happened when we were in the twelfth grade. Ah well, school boys, as everyone assumes, are nice, decent and innocent. But then, those who knew us in school would say that we were anything but any of those!

One day in school, Ron comes up to us and this other friend of mine, Dhanush, and invited us over to his place that evening.

“Dude, my parents are not home today and I want you guys to come over. I have a surprise for you!”

Dhanush and I are not the patient kind and definitely not patient enough with the idea of waiting till evening to find out what the surprise was all about. We pestered Ron to tell us until finally he told us that he got a bottle of Red Label at home and he wants to drink it with us. Neither Dhanush nor I had ever had alcohol before, and especially not something like Red Label!

Come evening and we are all ready for the first drink of our lives! We head to Ron’s place. All thrilled, we run into his room, dump our bags on his bed and wait for him to show up with the booze. Now that I think about it, I really can’t figure out what all that excitement was about. After all, whisky is not the best tasting beverage a seventeen year old can drink. Maybe, it was the whole idea of imitating the ‘grown-ups’. Well, whatever it was, we sat on the bed with our glasses and chips all ready to drink and waiting for the Red Label to come.

Ron did walk into the room with a bottle of ‘Red Label’, and along with it, the biggest shock of our lives! On contrary to our expectations, it was not a bottle of Red Label whisky that he brought, but another bottle with a red label on it.

In most parts of the world, they call it…Coca Cola!

Looking like complete jackasses, we ask him what kind of prank he meant to pull by doing that! Of course, we might have lost it if he was really playing a prank on us, but the kick in the story lies in the fact that Mr. Ron Thomas was not aiming at a prank! He was actually dead serious about the fact that he wanted us to join him to drink coke! We still can’t figure out why he picked a time when his parents were not home to invite us over to drink coke! Well, with Ron around, logic seems like a myth. The moment we realized that he was serious about the whole invitation, we burst out laughing and ended up sharing the coke.

Dhanush and I had our first drink together eventually. It was almost a year later, in our first year of college. We made a toast to our dear friend Ron who technically gave us our first ‘drink’. Sadly, he was not there with us to share our first experience of getting drunk. Even now, when Dhanush and I meet up for a drink, this story never misses being narrated.

Ron Thomas has not changed one bit in the past four years. He is now doing law in Pune and he still is short of that twenty paise!