Indira Camp jhuggis are located behind the Defence and IB officers' flats in Bapu Dham. Directions about how to reach the drug peddlars can be obtained from a paan shop run by a woman not far from British School down the road.

With the elan of a tourist guide, she told us: ``Go to the jhuggis behind the yellow flats and just ask them for medicines. Tell them you are sick and you are in dire need of medicines.'' It took us five minutes to locate the clutch of hutments where our guide directed us to. At a nukkad, we met a group of persons who initially smirked at our request for `medicines'. We persisted, failing to be put off by lines casually flung at us like, ``You've come to the wrong place'' and ``Can't you can see for yourself that there is no hospital or pharmacy around, so how could you find medicines here?''

A boy, evidently in his pre-teens, then decided that the charade had been adequately played out and our `bonafides' had been established. He yelled out to a middle-aged man across the gali and semaphored a signal. As the newcomer approached the two of us, we heaved sighs of relief in unison: We were on the right track and not chasing red herrings.

Till then, the operation had been a piece of cake. But negotiations soon reached a dead end because the `pharmacist' would not part with the `medicine' until he was convinced we were not police decoys. It took a considerable deal of play-acting by us to give the peddlar the impression that withdrawal symptoms were getting the better of us and we desperately needed some smack to revive ourselves. But, sorry, no dice.

Just when we thought our well laid out plans were going up in smoke, another Mr Heroin came forward from nowhere and agreed to do business with us. He oozed solicitousness. Indeed, he had the demeanor of a Mother Teresa attending on a couple of terminally ill patients. ``I can see that you are suffering from acute illness. We will give you a packet at the usual rate. How much do you want? But next time you need it, come in the evening or early in the morning''.

A Rs 50 note exchanged hands and our wait for the maal begins. The atmosphere in the nukkad has become conspicuously friendlier. One youngster even asks us if we would like to buy some ``time-pass'' tharra (country-made liquor). He reacts with mock disappointment when we say no.

Significantly, apart from being in the vicinity of two women's colleges and a couple of schools, the area these drug peddlars operate in is close to the high-security embassy area of the Capital. Reached for comment on the relative ease with which we bought smack, a senior officer at the Chanakyapuri police station said: ``We are aware that some smack peddlars are operating in the area. But we have not yet obtained information about the exact place where they sell smack. We have no concrete evidence. But we are planning to raid the area soon''.

There are currently no cases registered under the Narcotics and Psychotrophic Substances Act in area under the Chanakyapuri police jurisdiction.