Nizamuddin Station:
Stepping off the train, I was filled with a mix of nerves and excitement. The only hiccup? My luggage, weighing over 30kg and packed with everything I needed for my bike tour. It was a challenge to lug it around, so I had to hire a porter to help me get it to the courier office on a different platform.
I hurried to the courier office to collect the bike I had sent ahead, eager to get going. But, as luck would have it, their internet was down, and they asked me to wait. Frustrating, but I guess these things happen!
Plugged in ear-pods while I waited for the cycle to arrive and started listening to Delhi 6 which goes like ” Yeh Delhi hey mera yaar bas ishq Mohabbat pyaar “( This is Delhi, my friends, it’s nothing but just love ). I suggest everyone do the same once they step foot in Delhi.
The Pain of Bike Packing:
Though courier office is in 6th platform the cycle had to be picked from the 8th platform , requested the office workers to look after my bags worth 2 months of savings but they denied , took the risk and left the bags in a manner that it’s hard to ignore if someone try to mess with while I go pickup my bike.
So, even though the courier office was on the 6th platform, my bike was waiting for me on the 8th. I asked the office workers if they could keep an eye on my bags, but they declined. It was nerve-wracking, leaving behind two months’ worth of savings, but I arranged them in a way that would catch attention if anyone tampered with them while I went to get my bike.
After about an hour, I finally got my hands on the bike, but I couldn’t shake off the worry about my belongings. Thankfully, everything was right where I left it, untouched.
Now, here’s the catch: the station officers warned me against unpacking my bike inside the station platform. It made fixing all the bags and accessories onto the cycle much more complicated. Luckily, a porter was willing to help. He not only agreed to carry my luggage outside the station but also unwrapped the bike for me. It was a huge relief.
Oh, the chaos of Delhi’s bustling streets! With the crazy traffic, incessant honking, and a crowd that seemed always in a rush, trying to fix my gear became an adventure in itself. Amidst the chaos, I found myself bombarded with curious Delhiites eager to know what I was up to.
Imagine trying to untangle bags, fix gears, and attach accessories while surrounded by the whirlwind of noise and curious glances
Why Hazrath Nizamuddin first?:
Embarking on my journey towards Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah, which topped my itinerary and was my intended place of stay, My initial plan was to soak in the atmosphere of the Dargah while listening to live Qawwali. However, the sight of the immense crowd made me rethink my decision.
Uncertainty loomed over my accommodation plans, primarily because of my challenge: to spend no more than 100 rupees per day, covering food, lodging, and shelter.
Pedaling around the area, getting a feel for the place, I made a stop at India Gate. There, I encountered a few individuals, two of whom hailed from my hometown and spoke my native language. These fellows had journeyed from Hyderabad to participate in a hackathon, It was inspiring to meet such bright young minds thriving in India.
The Unexpected Help:
Still pondering where to lodge within my tight budget, an unexpected message popped up—suggestions from a cycling group in Hyderabad pointed me toward Majnu Ka Tilla Gurdwara for accommodation.
Without hesitation, I set my wheels in motion towards this place. Engaging with the management there, I was pleasantly surprised by their eagerness to host me for the night. They provided facilities for bathing, washing clothes, and a place to sleep—all as part of their free service.
The night turned into an enriching experience as I engaged in wonderful conversations with elderly folks from Punjab and Haryana who visit the Gurdwara at least once a year. Their stories and perspectives added a layer of depth to my journey, making it more than just a place to stay but a space filled with human connection and shared experiences.
The rejuvenating experience of freshening up was followed by a delightful langar at the Gurdwara, where Roti, Dal, and Chawal were served generously. Satisfied and content, I returned to the common hall, spreading out my yoga mat and closing my eyes, contemplating a curious thought—why did I not feel the usual rush of excitement or apprehension for the adventures that lay ahead?
Click here to know what happened next :
Why did I start pedaling across India: