Delhi...the city of delights

“Jaadon kee narm dhoop aur aangan mein leit kar” – Gulzar’s these lyrics echo in my mind every time I think of the city where I was born, educated and where I work. Delhi, the city of winter morning dreams, rainy day delights and beautiful spring experiences – this is my city.

When I was born, my family lived in the Choori Walan area of Bazaar Sita Ram, which many describe plainly as Old Delhi. To me, though, that is the heart of real Delhi. Most people won’t know that this area was developed the same time round as Chandni Chowk, and actually is home to the real halwais who prepare the best chaat, the best bedwi-aloo, the best gaajar ka halwa and the best kulfi that was ever prepared in this city, and which has so often been wrongly credited to Chandni Chowk, the better-known neighbourhood.

As a child who lived in a house, that many described as a haveli, inside the deepest of the narrow, winding lanes of the old city, that would be a bhool-bhulaiya for the uninitiated, I used to miss the gardens and the opens that were always welcoming my cousins who lived in the New(er) Delhi areas of Patel Nagar, Malviya Nagar & Lajpat Nagar. What I never realized then was that I was enjoying the so many other joys of life that my cousins would give their right arm for. Like the rickshaw rides from Chitli Qabar to Golcha Cinema along the colourful Urdu Bazaar, where enroute you could stop and pick up small bargains and mouth-watering delicacies like mewa-gazak in winters or kesar-baadaam-sherbet in summers. Or the sheer joy of having a bicycle race with a friend from Hauz Qazi to Jama Masjid – just trying to keep moving ahead on the bicycle in the congested lanes of Chawri Bazaar made even more crowded by the cows who actually own them, or by the jhalli-walas who run amok in the secure knowledge that the road is theirs and anybody else is a trespasser, was a skill that only some old-Dilliwallah could master and then take some pleasure in. For once, it was skill over speed that ruled.

My alma mater, Happy School, was one of the most popular institutions of its time that produced brilliant results and some illustrious students, but could never be as glorious as a DPS or a Modern probably due its location. A much-sought after school for their children amongst the denizens of the old city, this place taught me a lot in not just academics but also in human values that most of us today crave for our children. The place is still revered in my heart.

Post my graduation from the Delhi University, once I started working in the advertising industry, it finally dawned upon me that the true culture of Delhi does not just reside inside the serpentine lanes & bylanes of my childhood, but also in the newer colonies, albeit in a new avatar. It opened my eyes to the culture beyond normal tehzeeb; a culture where the sequined salwaar-kameez was easily given up for the sensuous short skirt; a culture which extended to the cacophonic unspeakables that many Delhiites use as part of their everyday language, peppering their already colourfully rich vocabulary. The Bhatoore-Chholey gave way to Butter Chicken, and the bhaai-saheb gave way to Big-Bro. However, my love for Delhi continued to grow.

Whether it is the hundreds of cricket teams playing at the Ramlila Maidan or it is a family outing at the Trade Fair at Pragati Maidan, the crowds that would normally scare you, merge & mingle with each other as easily as water colours on a canvas, creating a rainbow that can be so welcoming. The Sunday picnics at Qutub Minar or anyday dinners at India Gate lawns, or the charm of just lazing around in the winter sun at Central Park in Connaught Place – which other city has so much to offer? Joys that don’t cost a penny, and yet give you so much pleasure.

Today, as a true professional who has more time for his office peon than for his wife, who now lives in an NCR town and works in South Delhi, I’m almost in Delhi, but still miss being there. I do miss the fun of growing up and exploring this lovely city as a child. I am afraid that my children will grow up not knowing what Delhi is really like, due to my not being able to find time to show them around. The ease of life has given way to the business of eking out a living, and a hectic routine keeps me busy & away from the simple joys that I so cherish, and would like to share with my children. Today, as a Delhiite, my heart cries out, “Dil dhoondta hai phir wahi fursat ke raat din…”