Chapter 2 - The Lohri Festival

Not far from the airport, the traffic began to slow as we merged with cars from various different directions. When we stopped for lights, people quickly appeared at our windows trying to sell newspapers, clothing or some unknown merchandise. I had put the window down a bit to let in the cooler evening air but was directed to put it back up as hands began to reach towards the open window. Manu indicated that the beggars were a nuisance and hard to get rid of if given even any kind of opening.

We were travelling down the roads on the left hand side as though we were in Britain. Of course, that made sense as this was a British colony for such a long time. The traffic was speeding up and slowing down as though some mad dance. In a space meant for three lanes of traffic I saw four and sometimes five rows of cars squeezing through. Only a few centimetres separated one vehicle from the next, sometimes even less. My partner noted that it appeared as though every vehicle had dents and scratched paint. This was not a time to relax.

Staring out the windows we saw black and yellow taxis, three-wheeled mini-taxis and curious looking white cars called Ambassador cars. Amazingly, we saw animals wandering at will through the horn-blaring circus. Passing through an uncountable number of round-a-bouts we finally emerged into a quieter part of the city, almost as though we had entered into the suburbs.

As we made our way deeper into this nether region of the city, I noticed fires, bonfires, burning on sidewalks with small crowds around each one. I knew that it was a chilly evening and assumed it was simply some of Delhi’s homeless attempting to keep warm. Yet, it didn’t make sense seeing as the bonfires were right in front of shops still open for business.

Still, we both felt we were being taken into the ghettos of Delhi. Our driver turned into a parking area with broken pavement. We passed by a sizeable rubbish pile and then stopped. Where the hell were we? What had we gotten ourselves into? Had we been taken in by the man who had booked our month-long stay in India? Apprehensively, we looked at each other with worry in our eyes.

Manu asked us to go into the hotel with him so that we could register for the room. Passports were produced and registers filled out. Manu took this time to present us with our documents for our stay in India.

‘Please, keep this with you at all times as it contains all the vouchers for your hotels and activities,’ advised Manu showing us the various vouchers. ‘If you have any questions, please do call us at the numbers indicated for each city.’ Looking through the booklet I saw that it all was there as we had anticipated. Relieved, I began to relax.

‘Thanks, Manu,’ I said as I passed the booklet on to my partner.

‘Are you hungry?’ asked Manu.

‘No, we ate frequently on the plane,’ I replied. ‘I think all we need is a good night’s sleep so that we are wide awake for tomorrow’s activities. Will you be meeting us tomorrow morning?’

‘No. A knowledgeable tour guide will be taking you around Old Delhi. He will be better able to explain the history as well as answer your questions. My job is in the office and making sure our guests are welcomed and taken to their hotels.’

Manu began talking to my partner while we were waiting for the documentation was being processed. I took some time to note that others in the hotel were Indians, Hindu and Sikh. Music was blaring and the bar was busy, something I didn’t expect. The hotel board announced three separate parties were in progress. Each party was put on by one or two sets of couples. My guess was that these were either wedding parties or engagement parties. The board noted that they were called Lohris.

‘Manu?’ I questioned, ‘What is a Lohri?’

‘A Lohri is a festival that marks the beginning of the sun’s journey to the north. It is an auspicious time for beginning a new part of one’s life journey. It is a Punjabi festival, also considered as a harvest festival. ’

‘Would I be right in guessing that the Lohri parties here are engagement parties?’

Manu turned to talk with the clerk behind the desk before turning back and responding, ‘Well, they are parties to celebrate three recent marriages. The Lohri festival is also a time for celebrating important events such as marriages and the birth of a family’s first boy child. Are you worried about the loud music?’

‘No.’

‘The hotel host tells me that the music will end before midnight.’

‘That’s fine.’

I asked Manu to tell me more about the Lohri festival while we waited.

‘The Lohri festival is also called a bonfire festival. A bonfire is built in honour of the god of Fire, Agni. People gather to pray and celebrate. Food is fed to the fire for Agni.’ Knowing that he had my attention, Manu continued, ‘Another part of this festival is about praising a man from the time of King Akbar, a man called Dulha Bhatti who was India’s version of Robin Hood. He stole from the rich and used the money to help the poor and the oppressed, especially women who were to be sold into slavery.’

That explained the bonfires we noticed on our way to the hotel, the scenes weren’t about poverty and homelessness, they were about celebration, kinship and worship. The bonfires became our first authentic experience of the real India.

Finally, the clerk’s assistant returned with our passports which had been taken elsewhere for photocopying. We got our room keys, big old-fashioned keys. Thanking Manu for his help and his warm welcome, we headed for our room.