Every city is a person. Every person has a constant tremor underneath his bones and heart, a battle between his demonic and angelic side and the one fed well, overcomes the other. And we humans are like tiny ants running all over this person, tearing it apart or building it up. We are those angels or demons ambling beneath its skin.
If my city was a person, it would be a twenty four year old handsome guy who dances like every ounce of his body structure is beyond his control. He sings ridiculously, gets into vague fights but believes in two hour long hugs. He dives into dishes as if he has never seen food throughout his existence. Delhi is a city where people believe in laughing at the face of life, especially when it gives them lemon.
And as I land my thoughts here, they have an inevitable urge to swing back to food. You know, sometimes even the voice of a person munching chunks of rajma chawal, chole bhature, chicken seekh kabaas and everything and anything audible, can make a Delhiite drool the Pacific Ocean right away. Perhaps that is the reason we here have cuisines from round the world available here, especially from India. Anything that strikes a mind of a random person here is food, beer or dance. And this sort of dance is wobbly, shaky and claims that the person has lost all his possible control over his body structure. Such sort of dance forms are performed anywhere, anytime in the vicinity because here every day is a celebration; be it the purchase of a tattered second hand car or a wedding (lavish or plain).
There is massive scope of bargaining in and around Delhi. This indeed gives me a feeling that I might as well end up negotiating with the god of death and get about a year more granted. You can get the best steal if you know the trick to deal. In Local Street markets like that of Sarojini and Central Delhi, you can literally shop till you drop but as I said earlier, you must use your tactics at their best. Delhi being the capital of India has appreciably gathered all the cultures and traditions of India in its locus. You can hop around different showrooms exhibiting brilliant artefacts and handicrafts belonging to different regions of the country. If that is not enough, we have Surajkund fair organised every February in Faridabad. This vivid fair would take you to the world of colourful and diverse culture of India. It feels like a family re-union, where there are folk dances and music from every corner of the country enlivening the aura.
From shivering cold seasons to scorching Junes, from enchanting edifice called “The Akshardham” to narrow congested road of Chandni chowk, from nympho uncles to saintly folks, from sophistication to totally retarded uncivilised bastards, Delhi has the warmth of belongingness spilling out from all its faces.
(I do not hold the credits for the photograph in this article.)