Where do the people come from?

Being as I am, an Indian and that from Hyderabad, I am laid back, and I am not referring to any position of pleasure. That is not to imply that Hyderabadis do not indulge in the sins of the flesh, or otherwise. It does not even mean that Hyderabadis in Lagos do not have sex. I am neither a statistician nor a voyeur. Same difference anyway!

Hyderabad is a city that loves to take its time with things. Shops don't open before 11 in the morning and they do not remain open much after 8 in the evening. The Nizams may be history but their legacy certainly lives on. A typical Hyderabadi drives with a death wish, never gets to an appointment on time, and swears by the Charminar. I do none. But I am as imperturbable as any. And I am still a Hyderabadi.

I have seen Hyderabad explode to twice its size. I have seen commuting time go up from a maximum of 40 minutes from anywhere in the city to anywhere else to as much as three hours for a distance of four kilometres. And I drove a non-AC car! But I enjoyed the traffic jams. I loved the energy of it, the idiosyncrasies of individuals, the haplessness of the traffic policemen. I thought I was prepared for Lagos.

Yesterday I knew I was wrong. I am getting the hang of Lagos but it is going to take me a long, long time to understand it enough to venture out all by myself. Lagos has a different chaos, a chaos that even someone like me whose roots are in Bihar takes time to appreciate, a chaos that can seriously rattle you.

I was being driven through Yaba market a little after 7 in the evening. There must be a million people milling about the place! Crowds don't scare me, at least they didn't scare me. This one was petrifying. I have only been as frightened once - when I was waiting for a bus in the middle of the desert at 2 am - and that was in hindsight.

May be those fears were exaggerated. No, I know they were. I have seen nothing in Lagos so far that I have not seen before. Yes, I have read and heard so much more that 2 and 2 sometimes adds up to 22. I guess I am prejudiced. Or may be I am cribbing, something I absolutely abhor. Perhaps it is the whole process of settling in through distillation and amalgamation.

Weekend beckons now. Grandiose plans for it, though I am as broke as Enron. Like a very dear friend of mine says, "Sun, sand, and babes!"