The Delhi I Choose to Love

I happened to wake up at 6 am today. That is something that almost never happens unless of course there are meetings to attend and chores to tend to. Just because I couldn’t fall back asleep for some unexplainable reason; and because I was vacationing at my parents’ house and I had nothing important to do, I made myself a cup of coffee and thought of reading a book. So I dived into my dusty old bookshelf and like a classic novels freak that I am, I settled on ‘Wuthering Heights’. Just when I got comfortable on the couch and opened the book, a couple of photographs from my college days fell out. And looking at them, I felt really old. And that made me think literally how old these pictures were, and how time flew by since I moved to this magical city…

Six years ago, in the summers of 2012, I caught a train to Delhi. I was 17 then, straight out of school. With a bag full of clothes and a head full of dreams, I was ready to embark on this journey alone. I went to Hindu College in the North campus and at first, college was very bizarre and alien to me. I had gotten straight out of my comfort zone to a new place and new people; along with my social awkwardness which prevents me from establishing any kind of friendly relations. But then, gradually all the pieces began to come together.

I had a good bunch of classmates which eventually turned into friends. I became a part of a social service scheme and did some charity work, I participated in annual fests and talk shows, I attended plays and dramas, I read tons of books, I sunbathed in the campus lawns, I dined at cute cafes in Hudson Lane and also ate at roadside stalls in the famous Kamla Nagar Market, I attended concerts and met big-brand celebrities we see on the covers of magazines and in newspapers, I did everything I had never done in the small town that I was coming from.

Our campus was situated on a slightly elevated region and the road ahead lead to the ruins of the Delhi Ridge. The labyrinthian roads were ideal for cycling. We would hire bicycles from the Vishvidyalaya metro station and cycle all the way up the hill to a very little dilapidated tomb. I still don’t know who was buried there. All I remember is that we used to park our bicycles 500 metres from the spot at a chaiwalla and trek up. This shrine was always locked and we had to climb up the boundary wall. Once inside, there were tiny spiraling stairs leading to a tiny terrace; on the side of the terrace, there were crumbled steps with broken nosings leading to the top of the tomb. The tiny space could not accommodate more than 7–8 people but it offered a breathtaking bird’s eye view of the city. We could see a tiny stream flow down amidst acres and acres of meadows and tall towering chimneys blowing up thick grey smoke from the scattered factories.

A few metres away from the shrine was a ‘bawli’ which was basically a dried up water tank. As the place was almost always deserted, we never had a chance to collect information and historical details. Moreover, most of our energy and concentration went on focusing on how to keep this pocket of Delhi a secret, so as to prevent sharing our mysterious spot with anyone else. It was like our clandestine meeting place and we felt entitled for its ownership. We spent three summers strolling the narrow roadsides, exploring the jungle adjacent to it, discovering the Khooni Nadi and Sheeshe ka Mahal and investing time in similar shenanigans. And then one day, I woke up to the very last day of college. We bid our goodbyes and with big promises to stay in touch, we moved on with our respective lives.

I shifted to South Delhi and started working in a start-up. I had come from a very peaceful and tranquil area to the commercial hub of Delhi. For the first time, I was introduced to the culture of clubs and night-life and initially I absolutely hated it. I hated the sound of horns honking at all times, I hated being stuck in traffic and getting late to work everyday, I hated how everyone followed a tight schedule of ‘work hard, party harder’. But what bothered me most was the absence of my friends and the home-like atmosphere I had gotten when in college. Obviously, our jobs and other engagements got the better of us, and our meetings got reduced to calls, calls got reduced to Whatsapp messages and so on and so forth. After a month of getting annoyed, being lonesome and sulking in my room, I decided to go out and try getting used to where I was. I went to the clitched Hauz Khas village with my flatmates and was awed by the beauty of the magnanimous fort. We spent some time sunbathing in the deer park and then tried paddle boating in the tiny lake. The fort retained the greens and the old world charm; and no doubt enthralled me by all means. By the time we returned, it was already dark. The lane outside the fort was lit up in bright fluorescent lights, and the speakers were blaring with songs. Groups of people were entering and exiting these tiny pubs and bars. The scene reminded me of some old English alley from a Woody Allen movie. We went to a café perched on the second floor for a drink. The balcony side seats offered an enchanting view of the overlooking lake. And since then, this became our ritual for the weekends. At times, when we were not going out, my flatmates cum friends and I, would chill on the terrace of our apartments and discuss love, life and dreams. And just like that friends turned into family.

I spent three whole years with them. We had our share of disagreements and petty fights, but now all I have is happy memories. We would drive to India Gate in the middle of the night to have ice cream. Sometimes we would go to the JNU campus to nurse our midnight hunger pangs. Other times we would cook. In short, I came to fall in love with B 33 Lajpat Nagar, and I would absolutely cherish the memories made. Over bottles of wine and bowls of pasta, the years flew by in a breeze, and it was time again for us to move ahead on our separate ways. And so here I am, spending a few days in my hometown before I move to Bangalore to a new job and a new life.

In a nutshell, what I am trying to say is that we get biased and form our opinions too soon. Contrary to what I thought or assumed, I got better in the end. I was not open to new changes but look how pleasant they were. Besides, oppugnant to common belief Delhi kept me safe and sound and helped me grow in ways more than one. It gave me the exposure I needed to survive here, and it gave me the platform to attain my professional goals. Beyond everything, it gave me friends like family and fond memories to last me a lifetime. It moulded me into the person I am today and inspired me to keep going.

And, this is the Delhi I choose to love!