Delhi day one does eventually end. somehow.

alright. lets finish this bad boy up.

ah... shopping. generally.
shopping in a country where things a ridiculously cheaper than at home can be a pleasure.
however, for my own piece of mind and in light of the short time frame and my complete lack of desire to barter and haggle and jump all over people.
i went the safe, if a wee bit more expensive, route.

cottage industries.
on janpath, just off connaught circle.

there might be a misspelling in there.

anyway. its ridiculous. treasures on every shelf, in every corner and supposedly from all regions of india.
all stuffed into one building with 3-5 floors.
depending on how you look at it.
think the ending scene of labyrinth. one staircase running into another and then into a wall. or two.
so the goal was to make all my purchases for everyone, pack it all up, then ship it home.

"why?" the lovely people at the pay kiosk ask.
"well because i dont want to carry it everywhere."
"but dont you have luggage?"

a quick gesture to my over the shoulder "luggage" and that ends that.

i have to say though. the entire system is smooth and hassle free.
the higher pricing didnt even phase me.
(i may feel differently when back home and calculating my total spending on this trip)
but you present all the little items you are interested in purchasing and they whisk it away to some mysterious place and then hand you a ticket with said items listed.
at the end of your shopping through all the mini-stores you present all tickets, pay (at a centrally located pay kiosk), and magically your chosen items reappear.
it also forces you to be absolutely sure you want what you pick out.
which, unfortunately goes against my way of shopping - where i like to deliberate for an hour or so on whether this bracelet or that bracelet appeals to me more - but no good here.
you pick. they take away. you pay. then you see it again.
and then its too late.
still. i was happy with it all.
and even particularly when these wonderful people went out of their way to package up all the items safely to ship home. a gentleman even carried my box with me to the post office.
only then the trouble began.

"oh very good ma'am, but you must go to the A-block post office."
"why?"
"because they have a cotton wrapper there ma'am."
"a cotton wrapper?"
"yes yes a block ma'am!"
"but why do i need a cotton wrapper?"
"A-block ma'am! A-block!"

so a rickshaw then. to go around the bloody circle.
as thats all connaught place is. a large circle. within a circle.
it was how i got lost to begin with.
dont ask. that was earlier.
i was onto new troubles now.
box-carrying man refused my money as tip and we parted ways as i climbed into yet another overpriced rickshaw. this one auto.
half a circle later i discover the A-block post office (which looked vaguely familiar) and head on, looking for this cotton wrapping master.
"Outside ma'am. Just outside."
"I didn't see anyone outside."
"Outside ma'am."

a quick step outside, glance in both directions.

still no person looking vaguely like he/she is wrapping packages in cotton.
"There is no one there, can I just send this please?"
"Must be wrapped ma'am, wait a minute, let me see."

and this time we look together.
he wanders over to a woman in a postcard kiosk to inquire.

"Ah! he went to the bank ma'am, he will return in 5 minutes. wait here."
pointing to stool in a questionable looking corner.
"Right, 5 minutes, thank you."
and 5 minutes turned into an hour and a half.
i'm not kidding.
and it was here, in the midst of my exhaustion, following a long flight (or two), lack of sleep, day-long confusion and just plain bewilderment as to why a perfectly intact box must be wrapped in bloody cotton that i started to break down.
i gave up and even leaned against the god-only knows-what-was-on-that-wall because i was falling asleep standing up.
in my more lucid moments i was pleading with the post office man if i could just wrap the damned thing myself?! where was the cotton!? i can sew damn it! give it here!
he wasn't best pleased with me.
and then finally.
the cotton man appeared. he took my package and began working his apparently one of a kind magic. he then asks if ive filled out the customs forms.
"no! no, i havent! i will right away! be right back! dont go away! i'll be right back! thank you!"
so i dash into the post office to locate these forms and fill them in a hurry.
and step outside to hand them over.
and he's gone.
and my package is sitting upon the stool, half done, like a baby in a loose diaper.

WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK!?

in hindsight. i realize i was getting a bit hysterical.
and this was a busy street. and people were looking at me like i was a bit hysterical. i had my notebook and forms in hand and started hitting my forehead in frustration. and groaning. and cursing. and a few other things im now somewhat embarrassed about. (we just wont discuss them)

but i was ready to kill.

ill skip to the end.
eventually my package was completed. sent. with glue.
as in proper gooey glue.
how else does one attach a customs form to cotton?
(in case you were wondering)
the cotton man charged me 150 rupees (think a wee bit over $3.00 and it took all of my restraint to hand that money over and not hiss at him - particularly when it took all of 5 minutes to do, but 2 B---- F---- hours of waiting time)
the post office charged me 1600-something
and i just wanted to go to sleep.
another hour back to my dwelling for the night.
and god bless the world.
another day complete.
good night.