My Delhi Diary

Standing in the Delhi metro I always think, Delhi keeps me on my toes all the time, literally and figuratively.

When I came to Delhi 9 years ago, I used to think she was like a cat. Shrewd, wily, mean. Always trying to get her own way, not caring about people that dwelled in her. But Delhi had a different face too, like a cat does. She welcomed me and then threw shit at me, scorned at me and then loved me, sometimes even groped and touched me at wrong places and then hugged me. And just when I thought that I am done with city and I need to be in a new city, she gave me more reasons to fall in love with her. The only thing Delhi keeps doing to me is that, she keeps surprising me.

People living in very small towns are fascinated by those who live in Delhi in the same way, as those who live in India and are fascinated by people living abroad. For them, they are the people living in "big city", earning "big bucks", wearing Nike, Mark & Spencer and Levis.

When I came to Delhi first, I was this young small-town girl, freshly out of school. Delhi was still building then, attracting millions of youth every year who came starry-eyed for a better future. I came too. It seems Delhi and I are getting old together, going through the same phases at the same time. After all these years, we are still "under-construction" . We share a lot and can understand each other like noone else does. Sometimes when I am too angry I punch her, when I am way too happy, I hug her. She, in return, does the same to me.

Tall buildings, wide roads, metro, 500 people cramped in space meant for 50, it was all new to me. Especially coming from a small town Dehradun, where maximum distance from your place would be 20 minutes scooty ride(Yes, we Indians measure distance in minutes and not miles). My sisters were already here, trying to carve a niche for themselves and I am proud to say today that they have done so well a job and inspired me too. The tryst did not last that long as I moved out in a year to the remotest area I could ever live in I guess, for four years to complete my B.Tech. But Dilli kept calling on and off in that span of time. After that I took up a job and made Delhi my base and ever since I have been in this love-hate relationship with her.

Delhi taught me life will not always be fair, but she also taught me that at that time you need to be hooked to your close ones and not loose them in the transition. She taught me to value relations that were important and discard those that were unwanted. I am not a very loud-spoken person by nature, but Delhi taught me that sometimes you have to shout at top of your lung to make your way, cause some people understand only in high decibels.

I was naive, she taught me to fight for my rights and my integrity. When I was being stared at by vulgar eyes or was being passed lewd comments, she taught me to yell back with greater intensity. She taught me that when the vendor says 800 for a kurta, give him 200. There is so much history in bylanes of Old Delhi, in the monuments in South Delhi that it makes you wonder, on what remains of history are you standing right now?

I wondered why my next door neighbour would not visit my home, why can't I leave my flat's key to the aunty living downstairs so that when my roommate comes she doesnt have to wait for me for an hour or why was aunty amazed when I asked her for a cup of sugar. Delhi scolds me all the time for not understanding such small stuff. I stand aghast when I hear news about rapes in Delhi or girl child being beaten brutally to death. Delhi stands aghast too. I question her that why she is muted then, she tells me to accept things as they are and move on.

On the other hand when I came here, she was already crowded but she just managed some space for me by squeezing others. She taught me to be independent, to be bold, to be formidable, to take no shit from anyone. Also taught me to show my teeth and my claws too.

I will not deny that I have not been homesick here, that I never wished that I was back home in the mountains, that I never wondered that why am I running everyday catching metro and buses and for what. I have been frustrated, exhausted, annoyed, almost cried. But then the next day when it rained or when I had a small chit chat with the rickshaw-wallah about his family and kids or when I'd see the colorful sky on independence day or when I'd play Holi with strangers in the opposite building or when I'd take a walk in one of those fancy gardens on a typical wintery Delhi morning or when I'd see any beautiful historical monument and read about its history, I would just sit back and wonder...This is amazing! This is Delhi! When I make my way through a crowded train, or when I buy those fancy clothes for me and my folks, I am so proud of myself. Every day, every moment!

Delhi doesn't belong to one community, it is a blend of so many cultures that is hard to choose a dish from so many in the menu. There are just two mainly spoken language- English and Hindi, not like other parts of India, which always have this one language which is French to the outsiders. Nobody is an outsider in Delhi but at the same time everyone is!

Delhi has a big heart..everyone is invited.
Aakhir Dilli hai Dilwalon ki! :)

Your Delhi, My way

Recently, a friend and I took up this idea of exploring Delhi by cycle seriously. And it opened this window in front of me which took me to a different level altogether, which i thought never existed. I am amazed at how much we keep our eyes shut to things that are right in front of us, ears closed to the sounds that are music in some parallel universe, because what we are seeing is not the neglected park on the other side of the road, or the filmi pigeons as I call them at some crossing or that there is actually a way exclusively for the bicyclers along the main road or that the kid across the street is not only begging but also singing in a super melodious voice. What we see is the red light, the beggar asking for alms, the SUVs with their ACs in full blast, what we hear is the cacophony of horns, the invective spewed in the street fights.

Delhi by cycle was probably the best thing I did in Delhi. On the first day we went to Lodhi Garden.  It is situated on Lodhi Road. Now I have been in Delhi for 9 years, on and off for 5 years and permanently since last 4 years. Lodhi Garden is hardly 6-7 kms from my place. I had crossed it like a million times, each time thinking that I am gonna go inside soon but each time some excuse came up. Anyway, since our bicycles didn't have locks so we could not venture deep into the garden but what I saw was enough for me as it was just like I had expected it to be. There were so many small-small things that I had missed. Parrots! I had not seen parrots in a long time. Morning fresh air was alien to me! The bridge overlooking the lake, seemed no less than some royal passage to some other portal. It felt like my personal garden wherein I could take a long royal walk as it had an air of tranquility and freshness. Finish your work out, admire the various tombs built by various rulers at different points of time, finish that poem you had been working on for a long time, read Neruda or just sit idly in that lawn that is host to so many beautiful flowers. You can do anything.

Next weekend me and my friend went to Hauz Khas. I had been to Hauz Khas once and was intrigued by the lake but never really went down and sat by it. We were smart enough to take the locks this time. After taking half a round of the lake we stumbled upon this amazing flower festival that was taking place there. Such pretty flowers of new kinds, in such beautiful arrangements were a rarity to see in Delhi. I asked my friend to pinch me hard, so that I was sure that I was in Delhi only. There were beautiful arrangements made by kids and the crowd was full of people from all walks of life. As we went ahead there was this mela that was taking place, I am using the word mela and not fair cause it was a mela in the strictest sense. The jhoolas that were there were vintage mela kinds. I even ventured to sit on one of those. Riding a swing is not really my thing. I admit, it scares me. Then there were these stalls of Delhi street food to bambaiya nariyal paani...It was all there. We went  ahead and there was a training camp on for kids not more than 7-8 years of age. They were learning skating. Joggers, yoga guys,kids playing, aunties walking fast to pump out all the fat in one day, uncles having the laughing sessions, birds chirping, zero horn. It was such an interesting sight. And I realized this is the Delhi I like and this is the Delhi I was missing!

Then we went to Humayun Tomb the next weekend and the place was so serene, compared to the last time I was there. Mornings do that to things, make them fresh, like it itself is. I could imagine Maharajas giving orders to their subjects, raanis giving orders to their daasis, taking walk in those vast lawns, as if all that was happening right in front of my eyes. Also the idea that someone is buried right beside where you are standing, in one of those graves is exciting.

Next time I went to Nizamuddin Dargah on a Thursday evening. Probably one of the coolest things I have done so far in Delhi. On a Thursday evening, after the regular namaz, the whole place gets drenched in Amir Khusrau's qawaalis. There is something in the voice of the sufi singers there, which connects you directly to the divine.

I am not a morning person at all. The average wake o' clock for me is 9 am as I work from home, a perfect job for as lazy ass as mine. This morning ritual is new to me and I am lovin every bit of it. I actually looked forward to the weekends,wondering which new place will I be exploring this time and honestly when I used to wake up on weekends, I used to have low expectations if there would be something new to see this morning and at the same time excitement that what fun will it be this time and surprisingly each day showed to me what I had not seen in these 9 years. Beauty is right there, we just need an eye and an intention for it.

The bricks, the sand, the mortar

I am made of the kisses on the forehead.

I am made of the fingers running through the hair.

I am made of the tinkle in the eyes.

I am made of the wishes upon a shooting star.

I am made of the silent prayer you just sent up.

I am made of the secret glances.


I am made of the awkward silence between two people.

I am made of the empty ice-cream tubs.

I am made of the scars, the tears, the aches.

I am made of the unsent messages, the undialled numbers, the unsaid words.

I am made of the waste papers that went into the trash can.

I am made of the good-byes at the airports.


I am made of  You 'n' Me.

Tis' that easy...Nothing else matters

"Alright! I'll catch you then. Ciao!"
He closed the chat window after reading the same chat for the millionth time. He had always loved the way she'd use that Italian expression at the end of a conversation. She'd never say 'bye', always leaving that hope to see her again. It's been a long time since he had seen her last. 6 years is a long time. What was the date then? Ahhhh!!! Dec 23rd. Yeah...that was the day when they had celebrated her birthday. She had just turned 22 then.

Why did they stop seeing each other, the memory is a bit hazy now. It was not even a fight. He doesn't even remember what had actually happened that had drawn them apart. It just happened and they drifted away from each other. If he'd say that he has forgotten her, he knows he'd be lying. He remembers distinctly each and every thing about her, but why can't he recall the exact reason which caused their disappearance from each other's lives. Anyway it is not important now. What is important is that she had called him earlier this morning to meet him at the same cafe they used to go everyday. And somehow it did not feel weird at all. It only seemed natural that she had called and it only seemed natural that he was getting ready to meet her, as if he did it everyday.

They preferred to sit outside under the shade, as the rain was falling and only they knew how many lifetimes had gone between them, getting drenched in the rain. Both were silent, waiting for each other to speak. He cleaned his glasses to have a better look at the old man who would bring a street dog in the rain, inside the porch of his house and clean it. The dog would again go out in the rain and the man would bring him back. He had lost count of how many times the same thing repeated. He was never good at human psychology anyway.

The pitpatting of the rainfall on the tin-shade was providing some kind of background symphony to their loneliness, togetherness and silence. He turned his face towards her. She was looking at him. He smiled. She smiled back.
She said,"I missed you."
He said, "I missed you too!"
He said, "You said ciao, the last time we talked. It took you six years to come see me."
She said, "But eventually I did, no?"
He said, "I am glad you did."
She said, "You gave up on me, that I would never come back?"
He said, "Never."
She said, "So how do you wanna end this date?"
He said, "With a kiss."
She brought her lips forward and opened them for him to reach out. He kissed on her nose.
They went out, holding hands, into the rain.

Leap of faith!

Here goes one more year. 2011! You will be remembered for a lot of things. 2010 was a weird year for me. I am still not able to decipher why things happened that happened that year. May be I will get to know as life unfolds. But 2011 was a nice year, especially the later half. Professional front is still uptight but when your personal life is satisfying and you are happy inside, these things don't matter much. On the other hand, if the personal life is screwed up, no matter how well you do on professional front, life still sucks.

If I have to define 2011 in one word then I would say, SATISFYING! It just seems yesterday when I was writing a blog on year 2010 and how the year had drained me emotionally and physically, and here I am writing about 2011. Time flies. This would be my last blog this year may be and with this I will strike one more task off my dayzero project -Write a blog for every month for a whole year (Can't believe I am actually pulling it off :D).

Honestly, I don't even remember what happened in first half of the year. I stressed hard to remember what all happened but nil. Recency effect may be. I guess it was all work, work, work and may be a bit of sulking on some issues of the previous year. But we "Move On"! It is a funny phrase, "move on". Is there really anything that exists called as moving on? It sounds like you trampled that part of your life and walked on it. I think we just "Move Away" from things, eventually. Anyway, second half, on the other hand, was eventful. I went traveling to some places (long time since I last went on vacation). A couple of my close friends got married (am already feeling old). I took some major steps in personal life (trying to find myself on the outside and not inside me), struck many things off my Todo list.

One such thing was Bungee jumping. I am a case of Acrophobia, not an acute one but yeah it gets me shit scared. But I am glad to say that the adventure freak inside me has a bigger say in deciding things. So when my birthday was approaching this year, I had decided I had to do something new, something for the first time as a birthday present to myself. Bungee jumping was long due. So with a friend I was Rishikesh bound.

There I was, standing on that metal platform a week before my birthday. The whirling of the wind at that height of 83 meters could be heard distinctly, as if banging on my eardums and along with that the screeching of metals, the gurgling of water underneath and my heartbeats were creating some kindda jam session. The walk over the bridge to reach the platform was one of the toughest I had treaded in my life when I had no idea why I was doing what I was doing. I said to myself, "Chhavi, what kindda birthday gift are you giving to yourself. You will kill yourself, if not by hitting the ground then by a heart attack." And then in a few minutes, half of my feet were dangling in the air and other half on that iron platform. A voice was coming from behind... "Jump...whenever you are ready. 3...2...1...Bungee". A voice was coming from inside "Chhavi, you are mad to do this. But I know you can do it...Take the leap of faith." I said to the voice from behind, "I will fall." The voice said with a wink in his eye, "Well, yes, eventually you will." But I hesitated. He again said, "Whenever you are ready. 3...2..1..Bungee!"

And then I jumped, leaving all my fears behind. I had to have faith, in that rope that was tied to my legs, in that voice which asked me to jump, and above all in myself that I will make it. I did it and came out alive. The time when you just have to let go of yourself is the toughest time. And then when I had jumped, I didn't know if the ground is going to hit me first or I am going to hit it first. But that feeling is amazing and cannot be described in the words. But some words come in handy when you are airborne, for me they did cause I used so many swear words that people thought my rope may have broken.;) The blood gets shot up right to your face and it gives you all the more energy to shout out loud, as loud as you can. The experience is undescribable and I wouldn't even waste words in doing so. It will take out the thrill, the purity, the edginess of the moment. It is something that one should experience oneself.

Life throws stuff at you all the time. It is for you to decide when to take the leap. And when you do take the leap, it may seem at first that you are going to fall flat on the ground and will smash your face, but you need to remember that there is a rope that will always hold you and prevent you from falling and that rope is FAITH.

I won't say that the fear is gone now cause even when I think of how I jumped, it sends shivers down my spine but I am glad that I took the Leap of faith. I am very proud of myself... ;) Bungee jumping- Check!

And as they said in How I met your mother:
http://fliiby.com/file/580779/mlz9fxbdtw.html

If the world doesn't end in 2012, then I am sure more things will be done so that there are more stories to be told. Waiting for you eagerly, 2012!

"Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith."- Margaret Shepard

Making of a Rockstar

                                Made by me

"Pata hai.. Yahaan se bahut door. Galat aur sahi ke paar. Ek maidan hai. Main wahaan milunga tujhe"

(You know...Far away from here, beyond the right and wrong, there is an open ground...I will meet you there...) - Rumi

For my Day Zero task(101 things to do in 1001 days) I was struggling hard this month, as I need to update my blog every month for a year. I was nearing the end of the month and nothing was coming to my mind so I started to go through the old drafts of mine to find some clue there. And I stumbled upon some paragraphs in them that I have used here in this blog and I realized that, that is the theme a movie that I recently saw, Rockstar, was partly based on. I had almost forgotten I had written it here too(I have it in my diary). Just thought of publishing it now, may be cause, since I saw Rockstar recently, it is fresh in my mind and moreso cause I need to complete my task. Here it goes, the first 3 paragraphs here are the ones that I had written some four five months back. No I am not claiming that I am some smartass who can write stuff movies are made of and no I have not copied the theme of Rockstar here, I don't need to do that cause I am not even a writer plus I did not really think the movie was all that great. I had some thoughts, so sharing them here:

One day I was just wondering what I wanted to do in life as in the eternal question- What is my life's goal??? I am 25 and still no "passion" in life. Something I really wanna do. But it is squat. Sad huh?
Well there are some people who live a passionless life and I guess am just one of them. Was I born with any talent? Is there anything that has not been identified yet? Something unexplored. And here I am not talking about the routine job that we all people do to earn money and pay the rent and bills.

I wish there was something I could do extraordinarily, something that I followed with all my heart. I can do a lot of stuff okay, but nothing out of the box. Then I started to think that to pursue anything you need to feel the pain, the sadness behind it and that's when your best creation comes out. The best songs, the best paintings, the best poetry come from the most hurt souls. Pain is a stimulator and can be super constructive. It boils as a pain but comes out through the creative vent. At times brings out the best in you.

Sometimes, I wish that I could write a great poem but how can I do that when I have not really touched that painful side of me, that sad part inside me. Sometimes pain gets you acquainted to a part inside you that you never knew existed. Whatever little I have evolved, I think it's the pain that I had faced at various instances of my life that helped me and I am thankful to the people/events that caused it cause I didn't even know that I could experience that kindda feeling ever, that there is a different side to me.
(sounds familiar? rings a bell???)

When I was young I wanted to be in a band. I knew squat about playing instruments and singing, still like any other teenager, who had recently started listening to English songs of boy bands like Backstreet boys, Boyzone and Westlife and grew up singing "I am a Barbie Girl" and whose first international crush was Ronan Keating, singing in a band would have been a natural career progression. My room was filled with posters of these guys. If ever I would have made a band it would have been called Face the Music. But then we all wanna be in a band when we were teenagers. ;)
My mum has been the drummer in my family's and my life. I believe that in a band, the drummer is the one who holds the whole band together, like the backbone. Even though she/he keeps playing in the background, forming the foundation for a piece of music, sitting at the farthest end of the stage, hardly visible behind the lead vocalist and lead guitarist, the drummer holds it all. If the drummer is not tight, the whole band falls like a pack of cards. My mother has been that for us, holding us all together. Without her, we fall. Thanks mum, I never say that to you too often!

Doing engineering was the actual natural career progression that took place. You score well in class??? Love mathematics??? Voila... Engineering is the only career choice. And here I am, another engineer here, trying hard to carve a niche for herself. To be honest, I am not even trying that hard. I have been destiny's child so far. Things just happened to me. College, job, MBA or no MBA. I never really went out there, struggled for things, made efforts. Partly cause I didn't really have any passion, partly may be cause I got things the easy way.  Not that I am scared of anything or of trying new things. I don't know if getting things the easy way is a good thing or not but one day one really needs to and has to come out of one's comfort zone, one's cocoon, push oneself, take those baby steps on a rope tied between two ends of poles, with no man's land underneath and walk into the unseen, the untreaded .

About personal life, about relationships and all...well, I have been silly there, I have to agree. A friend of mine got so far as saying to me that the remake of a movie should be made- Good luck Chhavi(based on Good luck Chuck). Those who have seen the movie will understand what I am talking about, minus the coitus part. :P Guys usually find the girl of their lives after they go past me.

So far, it has been a No-Regrets kindda life mostly. Some things happened, some didn't, some should have happened, some shouldn't have, but no issues. Even though destiny kept throwing stuff at me, at the end of the day, the decision was made solely by me and mostly not influenced by someone else or something else. That's the key of having no regrets I think. The feeling that all the decisions that I took in the day, were all my choices and that's how I want my life to be right now. But I need to find my "thing".
There are some major decisions to be taken ahead about what destiny is offering me right now, that can change the course of my life but let things come one at a time. Will deal with them too. Bring it on! :)

From writing a blog to finish off a task, I didn't realize it would become like a page in my diary, but then my life is an open ebook, with only few pages having passwords. ;)

Cheers!

देखो आगे क्या होता है...

रात बहुत गहराने लगी है,

सन्नाटा गूंजता है कानो में |

पर इन रोशन तारों की टिम-टिम में,

अँधेरा छंटने लगा राहों से |

सूरज अगर ढल भी जाये, चांदनी जब जब छाये,
इस रात ने कब किसी को रोका है |

अभी हिम्मत तू बचा के रख,

देखो आगे क्या होता है |

कुछ आंसू आँख से टपके हैं,

कुछ पलकों में ही सो गए,

कुछ आंसू वो बेबाक बेचारे,

वो अन्दर ही खो गए |

मंजिल मिल जाने पे राही,

इन आंसुओं का मोल नहीं होता है,

अभी इनको तू बचा के रख,

देखो आगे क्या होता है | 

जब सपने तुमने देखे थे,

तो क्या उनसे शर्त लगाई थी?

क्या मिटा देगा तू अपनी हंसती 

क्यूँकि कभी कोई कसम खाई थी?

सपनों को है अभी पूरा होना,

दिल तू अभी से क्यूँ रोता है,

सफ़र अभी है बहुत ही लम्बा,

देखो आगे क्या होता है |