Welcome to the jungle – 2

Months back, a post was made entitled ‘welcome to the jungle‘. That post though full of wild trees and shrubs, had no wild animals in it. So this time, we have most of the wild animals found in this one, accidentally strategically being published just before the release of Jungle Book.

With 4 visits to the National Zoological Park (Delhi) over the last 6 months, I clicked over 1000 bad pictures. There is something addictive watching animals for hours and patiently waiting for hours in the harsh sun to get that one shot that can be shown to friends and family πŸ˜€ So here, I will post some of the pictures of some of our friends who are fighting for their existence and are forced to live in their dwarf homes at the center of one of the most densely populated cities of the most densely populated country in the world. try to get something funny out of these fat asses.

One fine day at the Republic of Zoorasia
“So, ready for the fight bro?” “Sure man! Start counting your days! But where is the lousy referee looking?”
“Fuck the referee bro! There’s only one rule in our fight club! It is, there’s no rule!”

Suddenly, the whole tribe intervenes and tells them to stop. They have a news!

Hey stop you naive idiots! Haven’t you heard of the Panama leaks? All the big cats have their names in it! Let us go and protest like intellectuals!
“Yes yes! Follow me. Those cats might be powerful, but hiding their money in the Panama Canal ! Hahh! They can’t be as smart as me”
“Hahaha oh monkey! You are such a monkey!”
“Hey croc! Just because he is black, you can’t call him a monkey! Racism is not allowed here!”
“And that is not racist, you asshole? Silly animals! The day I complete my evolution degree and get promoted to homo-sapien, I’ll teach you a lesson”
“Hehehe he’ll become a homo..”
Yup! That is why I prefer to say under water away from these people
“Umm, we are saving our seats here since morning to see the drama. Could you please protest now so that we can have some entertainment? We are really bored of news debates”
“Protest? Against us? Was peeing in my drinking water a part of that?”
Sorry dude, that was me. I feel my bladder is getting smaller
*ROAR* “What is this commotion about in my kingdom? Don’t you know I am a no-nonsense king?”
Speak up now! I, your king, am here! Or my roar has left you out of words?
“Ha! Silly old man! We had oil! So we became a democracy years ago! You are not the king anymore”
“And in democracy, we can pee and sell it as oil”
“I am going home :/

To be continued… Maybe, if I feel like… Someday. Please tell me if you smiled.




Surrounded by blur,
Wandering among echos,
Lost in the infinite,
A faded fragrance crawls as an evidence of presence

Some ignored,
Few even loathed,
Many believed,
But a handful was the ones to feel
The usual’s absence.

Evening blues


As the sun sets and it’s time to go home
A strange figure moves at the horizon
Its spectacles reflected the dying light
As the creature drank the water from the sea

Suddenly my eyes open and I see around
Moon has risen, highway still jammed
Around 7-8 people more in the bus
Expressing the frustration in their own ways

I see a lady with reddish brown hair
Communicating her inability to fly to someone concerned
A man with a moustache thicker than his arm
Murmuring best wishes for everyone who’s on road

A young man with a French cut
Staring at infinity and lost in its beauty
There’s also the conductor for whom keeping his sleepy eyes open
Is as easy as completing a marathon with a bun in the oven

There, I hear a slap from an elderly woman to her child
The favorite way of venting out by parents
And of course, the guy of my age sitting beside me
Reading what I write, scared of this creepy sight

Oh, the traffic moved!
The gush of air and the moods soothed.

The race towards reality


He tried to fly to know the world in an instant,
Ignoring the world, he tried hard.
Higher he soared, more the dream became distant,
When the comfort is around, experience gets debarred.

Disappointed, heartbroken he came back to the thorny throne,
Looked in the eyes of the people who made the world.
The carefree smiles, the nervous gaze and the tears with the happiness gone,
Amused, to the walking he was hurled.

Zone of comfort was unwillingly broken,
Harsh realities being shoved in the face.
The happiness gone but received was content’s token,
Little did he knew that this was the ultimate aim of his race.

Welcome to the Jungle : Bhuli Bhatiyari ka Mahal

Tired from the work, frustrated at the boss, sweaty by the heat. This was the state of mind when “places to go for photowalks in Delhi” was googled. I sincerely thank God that Google listens to our wishes quicker than God. Now, I just had to choose from the 87,200 results which were provided in 0.43 seconds.

Well,Β Bhuli Bhatiyari ka Mahal,Β which translates to “the palace of the lost” was chosen which is located near central Delhi, hardly 2 km from my home and surprisingly, I never knew it existed. I decided to take a walk as paying money for 2km when your belly starts becoming strikingly visible seems worthless.

Here is a view of the huge Hanuman Murti which you would have seen, if you have seen any movie shot in Delhi. It is a 108 foot long temple just 200 metres before the palace for the worship of monkey god, Hanuman. Hindus have 33 crore (330 million) Gods. So we could practically have a God for every species. Monkeys were at least our ancestors so it was expected to have a God for them πŸ˜‰


Moving forward, let us enter the forest reserve in the middle of which we have our destination. Yes, Bhuli Bhatiyari is a forest that starts from the centre of Delhi and is spread across miles. But before entering the palace, the ferocious guard sitting on the tree asks for authentication of the visitor. The watchful eyes reminding me that I am just a visitor to a place I don’t belong to and I better behave.

The watching eyes
The watching eyes

The serene surroundings, filled with green trees and all types of chirping birds shields us from the cruel sunshine and worldly worries. Walking just a few steps more, we reach the beautiful, spooky and reportedly one of the most haunted places in northern India. I was glad the ghosts were not at home to welcome me.




Built in 14th century by Firoz Shah Tughlaq, the son of Mohd. bin Tughlaq who is famous for his intelligent mistakes. I am not sure if Firoz Shah is counted among them. This was used as a resting palace for the nobles and other powerful men who got tired while doing the noble job of murdering animals. Jokes apart, although the place might look like a ruin at the first glance, but the deafening silence interrupted only by the voices of the jungle, and a peculiar peace of mind granted by the rebellious trees made the place exquisitely beautiful. Probably that is why I wasn’t able to click enough pictures of it as I got lost in the lap of nature in which the palace was built. It was not until something bit me when I noticed the presence of other creatures near my hand. I was actually disturbing someone at home, waiting for dinner to arrive πŸ˜€


Coming back to the senses, I found a road and I started walking on it. You have to agree it was impossible to resist when you see this view on both your sides. The more I looked, the more enriching experience it became. The art of the trees forming so many shapes that the stars forming constellations could be put to shame. If you think the good things have been talked too much about, you must know that I was really feeling scared thinking what if the ghost stories about this place are actually true and the ghost of 7000 years old caretaker,Β Bu Ali BhattΒ is waiting for me behind one of those trees with an axe or something of the sort. I was also curious if he would pose for me before killing and if I would be able to tag him on Facebook or Instagram or probably Mr. Bhatt would be too old fashioned for social media. If that were the case, I imagined him saying : “If Facebook was there in my time, I would have been celebrating my 700th anniversary with Mrs Bhatt. Too bad that by the time I carved my emotions on a stone as my first love letter, the whole Tughlaq empire had fallen and Mughals were already here calling me a ghost. How I wish to break the nose of Mrs Bhatt now with that first love letter.”


A few steps more, and I saw a small hole full of ants. I was about to click its pictures when a voice startled me, “Hey stop! What are you doing?” “Just clicking pictures of the anthole”, I replied politely. The man asked me to look closely and see if it is an anthole indeed. I did as instructed, and was surprised to see a rotten coconut buried in the ground with a red thread tied around it. Guessing from my confused look that I don’t know a single ritual of Hinduism, he told me that when a child dies before turning 5, he is buried and a coconut is marked at the site of burial because it is believed that he/she will re-born very soon. Also, the ants I see are not going home, they are actually eating the body by digging holes in that coconut. “Fuck”, I thought. I wanted to ask him, “WHAT ARE YOU SCARING ME FOR? ARE YOU MR. BHATT?” But I resisted opening my mouth (actually closing my wide open mouth), made a U-turn, and went back. Enough adventure for a day after the boring week πŸ˜€
So here I leave you again with the pleasantries which were clicked. Enjoy πŸ™‚



I have no idea why am I shown the middle finger


Before you leave, I am on Instagram now. I will feel as good as Mr. Bhatt to see you there if you are there too. pk9692 is the username πŸ™‚