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BACK OF THE
BOOK
King Of The Cyber Cafés
Tucked away in the teeming, narrow lanes
of dowdy Paharganj in Delhi is India's largest-and cheapest-cyber café.
Its handsome profits are all about scale, says
Ashutosh
Sinha
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The Gold
Regency cyber cafe: punk punch |
Cycle-rickshaws, cows, leery locals,
traders, pimps, dope-sellers, Israelis, Germans, Uzbeks, and a host of
other nationalities in tie-dyed pyjamas jam the corridor-like streets of
Paharganj, Delhi's backpacker heaven adjoining its main railway station.
Don't even think of taking a car into this municipal nightmare with its
flimsy, ugly, and mostly unauthorised buildings, among them 600-odd budget
hotels. There are no road signs here, and no signs of order.
Few in mainstream Delhi know of it, but here
in the bylanes, everyone knows of India's largest and cheapest cyber
café. Ask for a cyber café in Paharganj and you will likely be directed
to Hotel Gold Regency, another nondescript concrete monstrosity. Walk in
and take the steps up to the third floor, and there it is.
A long, narrow tunnel-like room with 80
computers lined up side-by-side along its walls. There isn't much place to
tango, but at Rs 10 for each hour of net access, this is a steal. And
actually, that for that price, you can take the tango downstairs-the price
includes free use of the discotheque. You can also pick up a beer and surf
the net-that's not free though.
In the last year, Gold Regency's
killer-pricing has decimated the smaller cyber cafés in the vicinity. The
nearest competitor is a 45-terminal Dishnet DSL internet café in tony
Connaught Place, where the charges are Rs 30 for an hour. It's been about
volumes, volumes, volumes. When the hotel began its services in October
1997, the prices were Rs 200 per hour. That shows you just how far the
cyber café has come in universalising the use of net in India. There are
10,000 cyber cafés in India, serving as the frontlines of the internet's
advance.
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By
9 pm, the place assumes the character of a metropolis. The tourists
attract locas in turn, who hope to make friends. |
With its rock-bottom pricing, not
surprisingly, Gold Regency is the internet café of choice for local
students as well as the budget travellers. The only hitch is that with
three 64-kbps leased lines, it get a little slow.
That will change. Towards the end of
November, Gold Regency decided to hook on to a 512-kbps wireless service.
Its 20-metre high tower is the only one of its kind here. The hotel's EDP
manager B.G. Agrawal says prices will inch upwards as soon as the
competition is eliminated. ''Our Rs 10-15 lakh investment will help us add
40-50 Pentium-4 computers next year,'' he says.
At a time when international tourists are
down to a trickle, the revenues are still healthy. On an average day,
nearly 700 customers (down from 1,000 before the September 11 tragedy)
frequent the cyber café. The monthly net is a cool Rs 2.5 lakh. Nearly 50
per cent of the revenues is spent on the eight-member it staff, 12
air-conditioners, ups and generators. The hotel still pockets a hefty Rs
1.25 lakh.
With an average price of Rs 30,000 for one
computer with the Pentium IV processor, a purchase of 20 computers pays
for itself within five months. Little wonder that the 10- and 15-terminal
internet cafés around the areas have disappeared.
At nine in the evening, the place assumes the
character of a multinational metropolis. A Japanese here, an American
there. Some alone, some with girlfriends or boyfriends, or beer. The
tourists attract locals in turn, who hope to strike up conversations or
make friends.
Many residents of Paharganj are young people
on the fringes of corporate existence, doing odd jobs at small companies.
There's Surinder Chauhan, 30, an independent tourist guide who stays a
two-minute walk away from the café. If he is in Delhi, it is routine for
him to go to the discotheque and e-mail friends. ''It's a cosmopolitan
experience,'' he exults. For the café, it all adds up.
TREADMILL |
Winter's Double Whammy
It's
the time of the year when getting yourself to the gym becomes a
Herculean task. You know the problems. The early mornings are too
cold to get out of bed and by the time you manage to roll out, it's
too late to squeeze in a worthwhile session of exercise. The
evenings are out as well because these are the months when your
social diary is chock-a-block (if it isn't, you'd better do
something about it). That isn't all. There's also the matter of your
diet. It happens to me every year beginning December right up to the
end of January. I drink too much; eat huge high-calorie meals; and
suddenly develop a sweet tooth that I never knew existed. So, by the
time winter ends, you can barely stand the image you see of yourself
in the bathroom mirror. The beer gut's back; the face fat looks ugly
and... I could go on, but I'm sure you get the drift.
Is there a remedy for this
annual season of sloth? Or is it only the incredibly steel-willed
who can survive the season without adding those extra kilograms?
There is, actually. And it's two-pronged. First, you've got to build
in some form of exercise into your regimen. Here's what seems to be
working for me. I can't make it to gym regularly these days, so I'm
doing the next best thing. I carry a pair of trainers (or walking
shoes) to work, try and find a half-hour slot and go out and get
some cardio-vascular exercise. Regular brisk walks during the season
of excess may not help you lose weight, but it certainly could
prevent you from putting on the extra few. And if you can't make an
outdoors sortie during the day, do what a friend does: she climbs
four or five flights of stairs six or seven times a day.
It's the second part of the
winter prophylactic that may prove tougher to adopt. Watching what
you eat or drink. Saying no to that luscious dessert could be
tougher than dragging yourself to the gym at six a.m. on a freezing
day. As for that third scotch on a really cold night, you could
really find it difficult to say no to it. So what do you do? Ration
yourself, says a friend, whose self-disciplinary prowess is
obviously greater than mine. Her advice is 'either or'. You either
go for that extra drink or help yourself to the sinful walnut
brownie with loads of chocolate, never do both. So if you're
planning to pig out on New Year's Eve, be the designated driver for
the evening. That way you won't be drinking.
-MUSCLES MANI |
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