Here's the deal.. an idle romantic in his heat induced delirium, typing away on the more inconsequential things in the world. But, then again, its those inconsequential things that are worth the world. So here I am.. 9 months and thensome days later back in Delhi. It feels good to touch the green green grass of home.. so the song says, but the grass in Delhi has its own shades. Green or not, it is still mine.
The first thing that hit me about Delhi the moment I stepped into the aerobridge was the heat. It felt like stepping into a boiler, but strangely enough, it felt good. In fact, the 40 odd degrees on the Celcius scale never made me feel better.
Its funny how these past months in the US have made me more aware of the discrepancies in my own country, and yet I feel belonged in the dusty roads and the chaotic traffic here. For some reason, the cars here look suddenly smaller, and the colours, definitely more vibrant. The language on the street is suddenly more relatable, and food becomes yummier. To say that all this ruckus brings about a tranquility would sound oxy-moronic but it would not be far away from the truth. I have free time on my hands, and there's something here that make me romantically inclined enough that Mehndi Hassan sounds better and Gulzar.. well.. Gulzar is amazing independant of the geographical coordinates.
Its a work-in-progress, this romance with Delhi, because Delhi gives you newer reasons to hate the dysfunctional system, and even more reasons to love the feeling of being at home.
Home is where the heart is, suna to tha, ab dekh bhi liya.
To put it in a Gulzar-ish way, yahaan ki garmi bhi apni hai, aur wahaan ki thandak bhi parayi.
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4 comments:
Hari ghaas ke kaleen...sahama sahama sa ...sarhad par goli...khwabon ka khoon...ek ye gulzar aur doosre tum..but tum ek bahut bade kalakar ho..sach mein..Appreciate your imagination...
badhia bhole... padhte hee 1 peg ka suroor aagaya.. aur 2 aur peene kee ichha.
Anyway, remembering old times, monterey ka ek peg bhi bahut mast laga tha.
Samajh nahi aata.. kee apni hari ghaas kahan hai .. ya kaho.. apni ghaas kabb hari hogi...
Shabaashva Bhole...well written. Waise getting back kar cheez ke feel ati hai...which kinda makes u a firang right?
PS: Is firang a racist word?
i dont think babey, that it makes us firangi. Koi bhi firangi, in cheezon ki high nahin le sakta...!!
Firangi ka to pata nahin, but do you think Desi is a racist word. And whats the big deal with being racist anyway.. hum hindustani log are inherently racist (jaat, punjabi, baniya, madrasi) and we take it in our stride.. ye gore log nahin samajh paate ki being racist, or different, is a good thing. Perhaps thats why Hindustan is more vibrant, and US is so bland.. hindustan mein har 10 km pe naksha change ho jata hai, aur US mein har jagah ek jaisa hi lagta hai.. what say you?
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