Dilli Meri Jaan!

I cannot be called a pure breed, true-blood Dilliwala. I have stayed in this megapolis for a decade or so, off and on, and there are quite a few things that I have imbibed in my behaviour, mannerisms and speech which can earn me the coveted (?) tag of being a Dilli ka. For one, I can now behave that I know everyone in the world without overtly faking it.

Haan, haan! Woh toh family friend hain humare. Unke saath toh humesha se uthna-baithna hota hai! Kaam toh batao?!

I can be happy, well mostly outward, and gung-ho about everything at any time of the day.

Arey yaar! Temperature 2 degC ho gaya hai? Koi nai yaar! Dilli ki sardi ka toh.. *shivering*.. jawaab nai hai!

I now know where to get the best butter chicken, what to expect from a sale at a TH store in Karol Bagh and can preempt how much would the rickshaw driver fleece me for a journey to the neighbourhood.

Kya bol rahe ho bhaiya? CP ke liye 60 rupaye? Auto CNG pe chal rahi hai ya ATF pe?


Today, however, standing in front of a glass wall on the 12th floor of a magnificent building overlooking the heart of the city, I realised how much I love this city. With all it's dishonesty and aggression, with it's scalding summers and biting winters, I must confess, looking at Delhi made me realise at that very moment that I could not be at any other place at this point in time. Not that this city is very welcoming to a stranger. No! It's rather very rude to a simpleton. But just the fact that I could see my Dilli through the perspex partition and feel the pulse of the metropolitan throb in sync with mine made me feel very alive.

I have accepted Dilli for what it is, and not what it can be! So what if there are Malmadis and (2G)Bajas in my city? There is hope, and that's what keeps the world going! I don't wish to change the city- for change to be permanent, it should not be sudden.

I looked out at the descending dusk and saw vague images. A few Jessica Lals, a multitude of Nitish Kataras and some Aarushi Talwars.

And I took them all in.

Tide o' Time!

Just yesterday I was packing my sachet and heading out to Bombay, looking forward to some great time gearing up for New Year's. How was I to know that influenza tenatculus would impede the progress of a perfect holiday plan. Oh well! The year ended, and a new 365 has begun. Back to Roorkee at a freezing 2 degC from a cozy 20 something in Bombay did send chills down my spine- quite literally.

The semester started on a sluggish note, as always, with a hope of looking forward to some great good times. Cognizance 2011 is readying itself for a grand show and it feels wonderful to be a part of this mesmerizing fiesta. However, the teeny-weeny complaint that I do have is that time seems to fly past too fast. Before you know it, the night descends and every day flows like water. But I reckon that's why the gurus assert that we should make the most of the 24 at hand. Another check point on the 'to-do' list.

As of now, I want to write a lot. I wish to speak so much. But being in this inertial state, I am compelled to stop. NOW!

I walk down the street.
There is a hole.
I don't see it.
I fall in.
It isn't my fault.
It takes a very long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is still a deep hole.
I pretend not to see it.
I fall in.
I pretend it's still not my fault.
It takes a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is still the same deep hole.
I see it.
I fall in anyway.
It's a habit.
I get out quicker this time.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole.
I see it.
I walk around it.
I don't fall in.

I walk down a different street.

-- Portia Nelson