Getting transferred from there to Mumbai was my D day really. I hated delhi. The folk there. The matlabhi society there. And I make no bones about it.
Forgive me wb friends ...if you happen to live there.
But I did live there six long years and my..they were awful.
The climate extreme. Too hot too cold. My friend laughed when we first reached there. I told her we don't need coolers. Just wait she told me.
Yes. She was right.
And the current kept going regularly every night. In the posh area we lived in. No water too. In peak summers.
The neighbours looked me up and down. Whether I really fit their status level.
One dared to call me a maid when she chanced upon seeing me in my work clothes one morning. I laughed and said I'm not . She grew pale and that was the last time she really smiled at me .
They are so matlabhi. Kaam ke vaaste only.
Business minded.
I hated that. And kept aloof.
Luckily we changed residence to the next pocket. Where we had nice kashmiri neighbours who were refugees actually. I breathed again.
Their tiny toddler came to play with mine.
The women hardworking. Brows knit..anxious but friendly and genuine.
And we had our Sunday church service miles away from where we lived. We met them visited some who lived nearby. Had it not been for them it would have been difficult to survive.
I hated the men. They had this gaze. Like a half smile actually. Like you are a toy and you are there to amuse them.
I listened to the punjabi haan ji. Every sentence ends with haanji.
I was amused. I had to watch my foolish Hindi.
They were amused too.
Their diet consisted of palaak paneer..paneer paseenda..paneer this paneer that.
Endless paneer and paranthas.
And dal makhani and dal fry. Soaked heavy in butter and topped with a huge dollop too.
Few udipis hotels there.
North south divide.
Men so aggressive. With their punjabi swagger.
Women laden with makeup at home too.
They shop at road side shops and make an impression that they were bought from big shops.
Why this dikhawa?
We left after six years but visited delhi on our way to nainital few years ago.
I wanted to shop at janpath. I heard it was cheap and nice.
I scanned some kurtis in a tiny shop. The fat middle aged guy came up to me...the owner...and pressed the dress against my shoulders to see if if it fits me. It felt odd.
He looked rich ...very fair chap. Fed too much on paneer I supposed.
It was awful. I just shooed him away.
Lecherous.
Shaken I quit scanning any more shops in its vicinity.
I waited as hubby went to buy some stuff nearby and two young men leered at me from the two wheeler they sat on.
I looked around. It was evening. Growing darker.
I thanked god when hubby and kids returned.
Next day we flew back home.
Mumbai is so different.
Amchi Mumbai. Felt at home again.
I read of some more rapes today. Happening in wayward delhi again.
I discarded the paper. I couldn't handle it.
I'm tired.
How long?
Will delhi improve?
Will my nation?
Comments (6 so far )
One more thing i would like to add...
In Delhi people judge you from the location of your residence. Thats gross.
But not everyone is same mam...there are only two kind of people .... good or bad, and you can find them in every part of country.
Had you been a delhi-ite and written something about Mumbai on facebook being in Mumbai, you very well know the consequences ... history speaks ... :P
OMG, someone save me from shiv sena for this comment!! ;)
One should never feel that difference ... everyone is the same ... humans ... and for that matter I would like to include aliens too by looking at them as humans ... :) ... and then why not animals ... in-fact every living being ... okay, so we have come so far ... why leave alone the non living things ...
so love all .. but judge all ... :P :D
keep writing ... you wont have much to write if you don't analyze and judge ... writing is fun ...
I think I have written too much in a comment .. i should stop.