Saved by the Headlights!
Oil on Paper
I love to getaway.... just pack my bags and go. But not all my impromptu jaunts go well. Like the time my mom tried talking me out of going to Gandhi Nagar during the floods in mid-1997. I was 19, impulsive and stubborn.
Gujarat had received more than half of its entire quota of rains in just 7 days resulting in heavy floods and water-logging. The State Government’s relief and rescue operations were taking place on a war footing with 1,500 army men and 6 Indian Air Force helicopters assisting the local authorities in evacuation. Media reports said that the helicopters had been airborne for about 50 hours and did 60 sorties dropping 23 tonnes of food packets, others essentials and carrying people to safety. Authorities claimed that nearly 50,000 people had been evacuated in the past 7 days.
On the day I chose to travel, the death toll had crossed the dreaded 100 mark while another 25 people were suspected missing. Electricity and communication lines were down. Trains and airlines had temporarily stalled their services to the region. I managed to locate the one and only bus leaving for Ahmadabad from Dhaula Kuan, New Delhi that afternoon. And to my utter surprise and amusement, I wasn’t going alone. Amongst the 23 passengers lined up to board the bus, was my friend and room-mate. I’ve no clue why she followed me into this madness... Leo’s and their warped sense of loyalty, I guessed!
The 24 hour journey stretched into 30 plus hours. The incessant rain, ominous clouds, thunder claps and the strong wind knocking on our deceptively fragile glass windows finally drove in the realization – this time I’d bitten off more than I could chew. To top it all – I was responsible for my friend’s safety. I wondered what my mom must have felt watching me board the last bus to Ahmadabad... The highway was free of traffic. Not a soul in sight for miles, only the trees creaking, bending and swaying wildly punctuated the eerie monotony of the ride. Abandoned and disheveled trucks, buses, jeeps, vans and cars lined both sides of the dark highway. Our food ration consisted of a few puffed up packets of wafers – with no dhabbas in sight and 2 bottles of water that didn’t last all that long, we drifted in and out of sleep for most of the journey. The atmosphere was somber and deathly quiet intercepted at intervals by the embarrassingly loud noise of a passenger unwrapping food, followed by self conscious chewing in slow motion.
We arrived in Ahmadabad past midnight and except for the issue of wading in thigh-high cold water and going hungry that night, the rest of my trip turned out to be worth all the trouble and heart ache. It was actually fun! I headed to Gandhi Nagar the next morning and stayed on for a week. I spent my week wading the waterways to and fro my hostel and design school, packing up all my stuff to take back to Delhi with me. Said my goodbyes to the dhobi, canteen’s maharaj, juice and Amlette center, Pau Bhaji walla, Rajshree theatre at the celebrated Sector 21, my faculty, classmates, seniors and neighbors and so on. I was going to start my next term back in Delhi and there would not be a reason ever to come back to this quaint and supremely friendly township in Gujarat.
The painting here is one from my days in Gandhi Nagar. It’s called “ Saved by the Headlights!” for lack of humor and creativity in the face of peril. This is a sordid incident which took place on the Gandhi Nagar and Ahmadabad Highway but hey, I’ve survived both and much more and lived to tell the tale... that's what I chose to celebrate in this painting. Everyday is a winding road and it's all good.
Gujarat had received more than half of its entire quota of rains in just 7 days resulting in heavy floods and water-logging. The State Government’s relief and rescue operations were taking place on a war footing with 1,500 army men and 6 Indian Air Force helicopters assisting the local authorities in evacuation. Media reports said that the helicopters had been airborne for about 50 hours and did 60 sorties dropping 23 tonnes of food packets, others essentials and carrying people to safety. Authorities claimed that nearly 50,000 people had been evacuated in the past 7 days.
On the day I chose to travel, the death toll had crossed the dreaded 100 mark while another 25 people were suspected missing. Electricity and communication lines were down. Trains and airlines had temporarily stalled their services to the region. I managed to locate the one and only bus leaving for Ahmadabad from Dhaula Kuan, New Delhi that afternoon. And to my utter surprise and amusement, I wasn’t going alone. Amongst the 23 passengers lined up to board the bus, was my friend and room-mate. I’ve no clue why she followed me into this madness... Leo’s and their warped sense of loyalty, I guessed!
The 24 hour journey stretched into 30 plus hours. The incessant rain, ominous clouds, thunder claps and the strong wind knocking on our deceptively fragile glass windows finally drove in the realization – this time I’d bitten off more than I could chew. To top it all – I was responsible for my friend’s safety. I wondered what my mom must have felt watching me board the last bus to Ahmadabad... The highway was free of traffic. Not a soul in sight for miles, only the trees creaking, bending and swaying wildly punctuated the eerie monotony of the ride. Abandoned and disheveled trucks, buses, jeeps, vans and cars lined both sides of the dark highway. Our food ration consisted of a few puffed up packets of wafers – with no dhabbas in sight and 2 bottles of water that didn’t last all that long, we drifted in and out of sleep for most of the journey. The atmosphere was somber and deathly quiet intercepted at intervals by the embarrassingly loud noise of a passenger unwrapping food, followed by self conscious chewing in slow motion.
We arrived in Ahmadabad past midnight and except for the issue of wading in thigh-high cold water and going hungry that night, the rest of my trip turned out to be worth all the trouble and heart ache. It was actually fun! I headed to Gandhi Nagar the next morning and stayed on for a week. I spent my week wading the waterways to and fro my hostel and design school, packing up all my stuff to take back to Delhi with me. Said my goodbyes to the dhobi, canteen’s maharaj, juice and Amlette center, Pau Bhaji walla, Rajshree theatre at the celebrated Sector 21, my faculty, classmates, seniors and neighbors and so on. I was going to start my next term back in Delhi and there would not be a reason ever to come back to this quaint and supremely friendly township in Gujarat.
The painting here is one from my days in Gandhi Nagar. It’s called “ Saved by the Headlights!” for lack of humor and creativity in the face of peril. This is a sordid incident which took place on the Gandhi Nagar and Ahmadabad Highway but hey, I’ve survived both and much more and lived to tell the tale... that's what I chose to celebrate in this painting. Everyday is a winding road and it's all good.
Painting demystified: it’s a highway, lined with trees on both sides and the stark glare of the headlights cutting through the night fog and thick undergrowth.
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