My day yesterday, though an ordinary one for any other ‘Delhi-ite’ in my place, was the most path breaking experience of Delhi I have had in my seven fragmented years, here in the city. Having been raised in and around the capital at various stages of my ‘growing up years’, I was prone to a lot of changes. Changes I underwent, with the city itself. I first learnt about pollution checks, when in ’97 we got that green sticker pasted to our windshield. My brother and I would spot cars from the back seat with the sticker and add up the numbers on their number plates. As addition became multiplication, the rule stating ‘No tinted window panes on cars in the city’ was announced. I remember us getting caught once. The policeman let us go after my father’s appraisable; ‘I am in the military, sincere request…’ plea came through. The honest man that he was, Dad made us go the entire way back, windows rolled down, the scorching Delhi ‘loo’ peeling the flesh off my face. There are other things I remember, like going to watch ‘Sapnay’ at Sapna before we progressed to Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and other Kajol hits, eventually screaming to the special effects of Jurassic Park. One evening, our parents decided to take us for our very first (A) English movie in a Hall, Titanic. That was my first adult movie, watched in full awareness of romance as a concept. I was so moved. I grew up an entire age, in perception that night. To add to that, on our way back, my father bought the audio cassette of the movie soundtrack and played it continuously the entire hour back home. ‘The heart will go on’ became THE anthem (in retrospect; of freedom and exploration of a brand new side of me). As I moped on sappily into my Diary, within the next 2 years, my transition to the hopeless romantic that I am was complete. I remember going to visit my Grandparents (for gifts), our parents picking us up from school….The brief year of freedom, when my mom started working, when we would skip lunch and have sword fights in a galaxy far, far away. The many, many trips to Nanital and Ranikhet during my birthday and buying pretty candles for my Dad’s birthday. The boat rides and ‘Raja Hindustani’ (was it?), the camping in the forest and staying in a cottage I was hell bent on proving ‘haunted’ to my little brother. There was a time we took Zora, our boxer, for the trip with us. She shat in the car, on me! That was the most purely stunned I have been in my life!
Now, one might wonder what relation this history has to my escapade in Delhi on 30th may 2010.
The thing is, I have always enjoyed Delhi as a family affair…I have only ‘known’ Delhi as a family affair. But yesterday, I ventured out alone into the capital city, met some friends, painted the city ‘goa’ and found myself, different, after many long years of confusion.
I can still see very clearly the apprehension on my father’s face as he dropped me off at the Noida metro station. If only I would let him have his way, he would have personally driven me to my destination (albeit cribbing the entire journey). But, I needed to do this on my own. Coming back from Goa, from a life of absolute freedom and independence, I needed to establish that in Delhi and to my parents as well. So, I took the metro, reached Rajiv Chowk and met my friend to go for shopping to DaryaGanj (Old Delhi). There is a weekly book market held there on Sundays and I desperately needed ammunition for the holidays! We shopped around for about an hour (before which my friend pointed out tit-bits of the city culture, the cute quirks (like the infinite mesh of random wiring atop every establishment, “a challenge for any telecom engineer”, he pointed out) and the general exuberance of the city life even in the roasting heat of the midday summer sun, etc). After our walk through the long and dense book market, we decided to feast at Karims. I felt as though I was a character in a movie, and my role was to eat. We started off with Karims’s roll, Chicken Tikka and Seekh Kabab. The food melted in my mouth before the waiter could ask me my choice of Chutney! Then arrived the main course of Chicken Jahangeeri and Chicken Biryani. The taste, was orgasmic. I could continue eating, if not pressed for money.
While at Karims, another friend joined us. He took us to this narrow cemented gali with big haveli’s on either side; the gaps filled with small video stores, internet cafes, etc. We stopped at this ice cream shop and he ordered three HARI Kulfis. They were for 30 bucks each and they were heavenly. Now these kulfis, were special indeed. There was a reason they were green….the reason, I will assume readers intelligent enough to fathom! Within an hour of ingesting it, we were transported into a different universe. Somehow, we reached CP and after dragging our bodies in circles for what seemed eons, we found CCD. When I sat on the sofa at CCD, I vowed never to get up again. After rather unfortunate and recurring episodes of acute, uncontrollable laughter (and the subsequent paranoid astonishment at it), we settled down with five ‘Tropical Icebergs’ and a brownie. We cracked some very funny jokes followed by loud vocal regrets at the lack of documentation. Somehow, we lifted ourselves off the Sofas (which seemed dangerously low) and brought ourselves back to the metro station. From the station, one of my friends volunteered (unwillingly) to drop me back. We were so obtuse with reality that we forgot to change trains and landed up at a random station with no fear or sense of logic. Somehow, we made our way back to my house, two hours later than I had permission for. My father was too sleepy to lecture me and I feigned tiredness. And I slept.
That night, I slept with the most vivid dream of my day in the city. And even that dream, without its restrictions of time, space and reality, fell leagues short of what my day truly had been!
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