Nawab Se Samraat Tak

Lucknow to Delhi

Sunday, 4th February 2007

10:00 A.M: Good morning folks. Here we are, in the lobby of hotel Ganga Maiya, checking out. We’re back on the road. Kanpur beckons and of course, we (you and I that is) are off to Delhi tonight. Waiting for us in the vehicle outside is Mr. Rajiv Pandey- remember Mr. Rajiv, who was with us when we went to Patna last June? Aye, `tis the same person. He’s now been transferred to Lucknow. He’ll be dropping us: first Arvind at the railway station, from where he takes his train to Allahabad (where we’ll be going later this month) and then Satish and yours truly at the bus stand.

And even as I speak, our check-out formalities are over. Time to go folks!

10:30 A.M: We’re sitting in our Sumo, outside the railway station. Our friend Arvind is getting off now… and here rings the mobile. Excuse me, just a moment…

A moment later: That was my friend Santosh, whom we’ll be meeting in Delhi tomorrow. He’d called up to say that we (our firm that is) have won the ICAI (Institute of Chartered Accountants of India) Trophy- in cricket of course. The best part was that we smashed three multinational firms along the way. God willing, we as a people will also be able to do that in business some day. And now that Arvind has left, its time for us to make a move as well.

11:00 A.M: We’re at the bus stand folks, still in the car with heavy luggage to lug around. The bus to Kanpur is leaving- its already started. Moral of the story: we have to run for it!

11:15 A.M: We’re finally settling down. You know, the U.P government’s road transport undertaking has some lovely air-conditioned buses- like the one in which we’re sitting right now. To be sure, they’re no comparison to the Volvo buses you see in our part of the country, but they’re good all the same. And talking of buses, time for another snippet: buses belonging to the U.P government undertaking are not uniform in appearance- unlike what we’re used to in our part of the country. Strangely enough, they also requisition buses belonging to private operators occasionally. No idea why they do that- once again, I’m indebted to Arvind for this piece of trivia.

And even as I talk, they’re playing some really atrocious music folks. I have no choice, but you do- so I’ll spare you the frustration. See you soon in Kanpur.

2:00 P.M: Here we are folks, we’ve finally reached Kanpur. After so many stops and stoppages along the way, its home and dry at last. We’ve reached a historic city- a city that has had as much share in Indian history as most others. But I’ll come to that later when the opportunity affords itself. As you can see, we’re haggling with rickshawwallahs over the fare right now. I must say that Satish is better at that than me.

Anyone familiar with bus travel in this country would know that you get swamped by rickshawwallahs the moment you get off your bus and you can bet your bottom dollar that they’re looking to overcharge you. Bargaining is a quintessentially Indian passion and that’s the reason why they always quote higher than they actually intend to charge. And so if the rickshawwallah wants to charge say x, he’ll quote x plus 50% or even 2x. Then as expected, you bargain and bring it down somewhere close to x. both of us are aware of the real game and yet go through the bargaining process.

And Satish has managed to strike a bargain with a cycle rickshawwallah. Here we go.

Some Moments Later: This is by far the most extraordinary city I’ve seen to date. Looking around me, I feel as though I’m watching a period movie; this part of town (and we’re in the old city now) has hardly, if at all, changed since the British left.

And I must say that I’ve never seen such a narrow thoroughfare. You’re dead even if one vehicle were to fail here. and even as I speak, I see a vehicle that can never fail; it’s a single horsepower vehicle or more accurately, a single horse powered vehicle, which is called a tanga in these parts. Coming from a place where even cycle rickshaws do not exist, a tanga looks scarcely credible, especially in a major city like this. Our rickshawwallah is surprised at my astonishment; he tells me that horse carts are a very common mode of transport here. To be sure, on narrow roads like this, all vehicles would be reduced to the same speed.

We’re now passing by the police headquarters- the Kotwali as its called. You’re not going to believe this, but it still bears the old spelling “Cawnpore” as Kanpur was spelled in colonial days (the spelling was changed in 1948); hazarding a conjecture, I daresay this building has not been repaired since our former rulers left us alone. Actually this road itself presents a strange spectacle: its incredibly narrow and dirty with buildings on both sides in a crazy state of disrepair. Looking upward, you can see a maze of wires. The electricity and telephone wires form an incredibly complex (not to mention ugly) tangle; both, electricity and telephone wires are above ground- a common feature in these parts. Simply put, its as big a mess overhead as it is on the ground below. And yes, I forgot to mention that the residents of this place have found an unusual method of overcoming the lack of a road-divider: you have a long line of vehicles parked exactly at the centre of the road. I’ll say this folks: you actually have to come and see this to believe that places like this also exist. Sadly, I’m unable to show you a photo and you know the reason for that.

It’s hard to imagine a more stark contrast between Lucknow and Kanpur. Whereas the former is truly nawabon ka shehar, this is genuinely a third-world city. If you’ll believe it, the two are barely 80 kilometres apart. But then, drastic change like this is commonplace in these parts- so well described in the saying that goes around here:

Ek kos mein paani,
Dus kos mein vaani

Which would roughly translate as:

The water (changes) in a mile
The dialect (changes) in ten

2:30 P.M: Finally we’re in our hotel room; home and famished. Actually there was a somewhat comical bit of confusion. There are two hotels here: The Meera and Meera Inn. Apparently, the original booking was in The Meera. But later on, in an inspired moment of miscommunication (or should it be non-communication?) booked a room for us in Meera Inn as well. Fortunately, Mr. Khare (the chief accountant here) asked us to take up our room at The Meera since its more luxurious. And so, after that quintessentially Indian piece of confusion, we’re finally unpacking. But we’re famished and need to take a shower. Please give us a moment to find our bearings.

3:15 P.M: Finally, lunch has arrived! But, I have to wait for Satish to arrive; he’s just gone for his shower. And so as usual, I’ll tell you something about this city as I wait.

Kanpur is an important centre for the leather industry. It is known basically as an industrial city, once known for its textile mills- so much so, that it was once known as the “Manchester of India”. The textile mills have mostly vanished, as have most manufacturing units, due to problems related to power supply in this city. Mr. Pandey (who belongs to Kanpur by the way) told me that this city is rapidly decaying right now, notwithstanding the fact that it has an IIT (Indian Institute of Technology). I may also mention that the holy Ganges flows through this city. I remember reading about the beauty of the Ganges as it flows through this city, or rather, as it once flowed through this city. Today, I’m told, the river is incredibly toxic and polluted.

But whatever the present, Kanpur has a proud past and a significant place in the history of India. There are two theories as to how Kanpur came to have its name: One goes that the name is derived from ‘Karnapur’, as it was called in the age of the Mahabharat, after this region was gifted to Karn by Duryodhan. The name Karnapur somehow contracted to Kanpur over the centuries. Another theory is that the name is derived from “Kanhaiyapur” (city of Lord Krishna), which was later shortened to Kanhapur (Kanha also being one of Lord Krishna’s several names), which in turn was truncated to Kanpur.

Whatever the actual genesis of the name, both theories indicate that the origins of this city go back to a few thousand years. Strangely enough, little is known about the progress of this city from those times to the thirteenth century or so is lost in the mists of time. But Kanpur makes a reappearance in the early 13th century, when Raja Kanti Dev of Prayag established a village called Kohna along the banks of the Ganges. By 1579, by which time it was under the control of Sher Shah Suri, the village was called Kanpur- the first known use of the name. But Kanpur remained a village until sometime in the late 18th of early 19th century, when British industries started making their appearance. It became (and remains) one of the major military stations in India sometime in the first half of the 19th century.

And of course, Kanpur was one of the several areas of disturbances during the uprising of 1857. This city was besieged by the mutinous troops, led by Nanasaheb Peshwa in 1857. After a 3-week siege, the British were promised a safe passage. What happened afterwards is subject of some controversy, suffice it to say that the native sepoys massacred the retreating British in mid-water. Historians seem to have little unanimity in this matter and given their genius for spin doctoring, I’m impelled to take most of what British historians claim with a pinch of salt; the massacres they perpetrated in these parts would have done the Nazis proud.

Kanpur today is home to several industries, especially the leather industry. Pollution levels in this city have apparently reached appallingly high levels. Most of the industries that abounded as recently as the late 70s or early 80s have apparently shifted to Noida or Gaziabad in the NCR (National Capital Region).

And even as I speak, Satish has come out and readied himself. Well excuse me folks, its lunchtime now. But don't go too far, remember, we also have to go to Delhi tonight. So see you soon...

5:00 P.M: We’ve had our lunch and as you can see, I’ve finished my packing for the trip to Delhi, more accurately, unpacking and packing since I’ve jettisoned all that was inessential and only taken whatever is indispensable for a 2-day trip. As I’ve told you, I’m off to a very close friend’s wedding, which will be spread over two days. Needless to say, I’m taking you with me so that you can witness it yourself. Personally, its going to be my first experience of a Punjabi wedding. Incidentally, Mr. Bhat, the accountant here, called up just a few moments ago that he’d be coming to pick me up; he’ll help me get on a bus to Delhi… so much the better since I had no idea how I was going to get there. I only hope there’s an air-conditioned bus. Believe me, you just can’t travel by an ordinary bus in these parts- just perish the thought!

5:30 P.M: A knock on the door; it is Mr. Bhat indeed. Time to make a move folks. Chalo Delhi

6:00 P.M: We’ve been really lucky folks! as you can see, I’m sitting inside an air-conditioned bus, identical to the one in which we came to Kanpur in the morning. You know, we got here in the nick of time; there’s only one air-conditioned bus to Delhi in the evening and we got here to the bus stand just as it was about to leave. 5 minutes late and… I have no idea what I would have done!

So folks, ab delhi door nahin (no use translating, since the words have a historic connotation). See you in our capital tomorrow.