I'm back in Delhi. And what's surprising this time, is that Delhi is being subjected to constant judgments. And tight scrutiny. And a repeated self inquiry. I loved you, right? Then why are the question marks, sprouting from every corner I turn my head to. It's place in my head and heart seem to be shifting, a little uncomfortably so. But that can be handled. It only requires a change in the lens.A different one for all moods.
Delhi is always up for an encore. If you've missed something, worry not. It's happening, simultaneously,somewhere else. Like how I spotted a man just yesterday, in sheer concentration, designing a public wall. With his pee and using the tool between his legs. The people around him seemed to be blissfully unaware of the artist at work. Or was it an everyday activity. Either way, it was a sight to b(p)ee-hold (quite literally).
On another occasion, when a DTC bus driver, drove his bus at high speed, cos he wanted to race with a mini van. And the passengers in both the buses were holding on to each other, for dear life. Had they spoken one word though, if not through road rage, the "jaat" rage would've surely killed them. Hence the suffering in silence.
If one could earn 1 rupee for one minute stare, all our city issues would be solved. The joblessness is not the issue, mind. Job, they all have. But the strong belief in work and pleasure.Ah, no. Pleasur-ing. (Really ew!)
The Delhi metro is a a small and slightly better version of the buses. Better because it's air-conditioned. But once the metro voice starts crooning "doors will open to your right. Mind the gap", and WHAM. *Mind the hands, you stinky hopefuls. And WOMAN, those are your busts, not boxing pads! *
The dhin-chak cars, STILL take the cake though. They always will. Let's face it. They completely encapsulate the whole "Dehli" feel. You cannot be a Delhi girl and not be chased by black tinted, zipping cars, with a momentary flash of- black shades, peeping suddenly into focus, making a guest appearance, blow kisses in the air, and speed up like their ass is on fire. Plus, the latest, never- heard- before weirdly mixed, Punjabi cum hip hop cum rock cum self composed...er...songs, at full volume.In all the excitement, the viewer does a little something for the view-ee. He leaves a little trade mark. And so, the car reads from behind "ziddimunda", or better still, "punjabirocker". THERE. Work done. Piece of cake. Outdoor advertising at it's best. Now THAT'S creativity. And you thought they were a bunch of no good morons. Tch.
Anyhow, for all the afore mentioned. A neutral stand. But I know I can safely say- TYPICAL :D
Delhi is always up for an encore. If you've missed something, worry not. It's happening, simultaneously,somewhere else. Like how I spotted a man just yesterday, in sheer concentration, designing a public wall. With his pee and using the tool between his legs. The people around him seemed to be blissfully unaware of the artist at work. Or was it an everyday activity. Either way, it was a sight to b(p)ee-hold (quite literally).
On another occasion, when a DTC bus driver, drove his bus at high speed, cos he wanted to race with a mini van. And the passengers in both the buses were holding on to each other, for dear life. Had they spoken one word though, if not through road rage, the "jaat" rage would've surely killed them. Hence the suffering in silence.
If one could earn 1 rupee for one minute stare, all our city issues would be solved. The joblessness is not the issue, mind. Job, they all have. But the strong belief in work and pleasure.Ah, no. Pleasur-ing. (Really ew!)
The Delhi metro is a a small and slightly better version of the buses. Better because it's air-conditioned. But once the metro voice starts crooning "doors will open to your right. Mind the gap", and WHAM. *Mind the hands, you stinky hopefuls. And WOMAN, those are your busts, not boxing pads! *
The dhin-chak cars, STILL take the cake though. They always will. Let's face it. They completely encapsulate the whole "Dehli" feel. You cannot be a Delhi girl and not be chased by black tinted, zipping cars, with a momentary flash of- black shades, peeping suddenly into focus, making a guest appearance, blow kisses in the air, and speed up like their ass is on fire. Plus, the latest, never- heard- before weirdly mixed, Punjabi cum hip hop cum rock cum self composed...er...songs, at full volume.In all the excitement, the viewer does a little something for the view-ee. He leaves a little trade mark. And so, the car reads from behind "ziddimunda", or better still, "punjabirocker". THERE. Work done. Piece of cake. Outdoor advertising at it's best. Now THAT'S creativity. And you thought they were a bunch of no good morons. Tch.
Anyhow, for all the afore mentioned. A neutral stand. But I know I can safely say- TYPICAL :D
3 comments:
But that's what makes Delhi home. It's a package, you can't have all the good and ignore the bad. You fall in love, knowing and acknowledging the flaws :)
Delhi is a offer. It's got the good, it's got the bad and it doesn't lure, like most other cities. It's an open book. accepting all forms of criticism and still letting you leave it only with a warm feeling of nostalgia in the heart.
There's something about Delhi, the cliche goes.
Swetha
Heheheh that reeks of a Post-Mumbai hangover. And i've been there. Love, come back soon.
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