dilli dilli

This is meant to be an ode to Delhi. The idea for this post came to me while I was watching Delhi Belly. And the exact thing that struck my fancy was the electric wires all over the city! Really, those illegal, jugaad, telephone and electric connections are such a ubiquitous part of any Indian city’s landscape that you miss them when you see them again after a long time!

Delhi is the city I long for, when I am in New York. Delhi is the city of my djinns. It is where I first fell in love. It is where I fell in love for the second time. It is where I first tasted bhaangIt is where I first lived on my own. It is where I first watched a movie in a cinema hall.  It is where I first saw people consume white, powdery substances when I didn’t know what they were. It is where I first opened my bank account. It is where I first tasted alcohol.  It is where I first washed my own clothes. It is where I first ate non-vegetarian food. It is where I first defied my parents and went for a summer internship I believed in, even thought it was unsafe.

I lived in Delhi for six years. We really become who we are when we go to college or when we move out of our parents’ home, whichever happens later. (It is, most definitely, quite terrible that this reminds me of hazard models, so please, kindly ignore this).

My Delhi is very different from that of people who grew up there or who visit it as tourists. I was mostly a poor, young, innocent student while I lived there. I didn’t care much about food then. I was scared of living in a big city for the first time. Those were the days when we didn’t explore the city we lived in (I still don’t). We didn’t have mobile phones. There was no Delhi Metro, so we tried to walk everywhere. We didn’t email anyone. There was no Gmail. I barely even knew Yahoo!

There is so much more that I want to share on this subject. But I will not overwhelm myself with all those memories at once and space it out instead. So, more on Delhi later!

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