The Other City, New Beginnings

    It had been a while since I had visited Delhi, the other city of my life, which actively competes against Kolkata, trying to convince me to move there. Opportunity was at hand, once more, after quite a few years. The first week of November, 2023, saw me, packing to leave for Delhi. And this time, accompanying me would be Srijani, and it would be our first trip together, just by ourselves. We had been to Taki and Mumbai before (and you've read about the Mumbai trip already, in my previous piece), but that was all with friends.

    The opportunity was also at hand, to show Srijani, my methods of knowing and discovering a city. I retraced my steps like yesteryears, but more maturely, of course. The stay was at Jangpura, which was a pleasant surprise. The AirBnB of choice was a quaint and beautiful property located inside of a well-protected community at Jangpura B, close to the Nizamuddin Dargah. 

    Winter was coming to Delhi, I could feel it. At nights, it would be quite chilly, I could fathom. The sun shone from behind the clouds, at leisure. Never for second did I feel, I was not home. First thing first, I just had to take the metro and go to Chandni Chowk and Jama Masjid. And so, I did. Within moments of stepping up to the colossal structure of Jama Masjid, quite late in the evening, I was greeted with a cool Northern breeze, heavy with the aroma of ittar, kebabs, sharbat, incense resins burning far away inside the by-lanes of Hauz Qazi Road, and a drone of voices, engulfed with the noise of rampant horn-blaring from small pick-up trucks, (now electric) rickshaws, autos. 

The Serene Calm of Humayun Makbara

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    For Srijani, to a degree, this was a culture shock, who had not expected this very raw image of Delhi on her very first evening. The calm and green of Humayun Makbara, a stone's throw away from our Jangpura stay, could not orient and arm her towards this caterwauling that had evidently thrown her off. However, one of her best qualities is quickly adapting to her surroundings, and though this wasn't an adverse environment, it was a jolt of colour and culture that would be overwhelming to anybody. 

The Jama Masjid in Full Glory

The Glistening Chaos of Matia Mahal from the Heights of Jama Masjid

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    I did a lot of touristy things this once. The last time I did something similar in Delhi, was in 2006! We decided to take a tour of Lutyen's Delhi, in the NCR region, and it was one of the delightful experiences ever, for me. Visiting Indira Gandhi's Memorial Museum, the India Gate and Rashtrapati Bhavan wouldn't be that appealing as walking around Delhi - 6, I thought. And I was pleasantly proven wrong. A foggy day, and a long auto ride - these two things can elevate anybody's dampened mood, is now what I believe. Equally pleasant was our visit to Connaught Place, Janpath and Jantar Mantar. My obsession with Jantar Mantar comes from Feluda's Baksho Rahasya, but I realised this once, I have outgrown the mysticism of the place, and what appealed to me more this once, was Dolma Aunty's Momos and Depaul's Cold Coffee, after a brief stint of winterwear shopping.

    That's the thing about Delhi, isn't it? It gives you a complete new experience, every new day. Our momos and cold coffee were distinctly different experiences, from the Aslam Butter Chicken and Mohabbat ka Sharbat of the previous evening. Khan Chacha's Mutton Kakori Roll again - succulent, tender and delicious, was another trip of our humbled taste buds. Fakir Chand Book Store was a safe haven for me, of course, from where I had to be dragged out. 

Fakir Chand & Sons Book - Store - An Oasis in the Chaos of Khan Market

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    The Red Fort, the mammoth, jaw-dropping structure, bound us with awe. It was Srijani's first time, my fifth. I was as spellbound as she was, because this view never gets old, guys. We walked and walked. Soon we found ourselves in front of a dilapidated building, Ghalib's Haveli. Located inside of a primeval alley in Ballimaran, this building, despite being deemed a "Heritage Site" stands grim, sullied and defiled. Encroached up on by small business owners, the fate of this haveli is as tragic as Ghalib's had been.

Glimpses from Ghalib's Haveli:

Left: An Installation on Ghalib's Shayari.

Right: Ghalib's Bust, Presented by Gulzar Sahab.

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    As I said, we walked and we toured and we ate. In 4 days, the two of us had walked more 56,000 steps, individually. The Qutub Complex, Delhi Haat, Hauz Khas, we would get lost in time and space. It was like we had been transported to a magical world of no worries, no meetings, no deadlines, no dilemmas. The short trip to Gurugram made me very inquisitive and curious. Gurugram was a culture shock for me. But, again, it's where Srijani works, and I have a feeling she doesn't like the place herself. It's too techy, it's too fast. It doesn't have people coming over to you and talking to you and you can smell the fragrant zarda (tobacco) that they had been chewing. Probably because it doesn't present you with the circumstance where a pedaled-rickshaw will run over your foot.

    For me, it's about the people in Delhi. The innumerable faceless who commute on the busy sidewalks of Delhi and on the streets. The loud, the quiet, the fast, the slow, the ones with tehzeeb, the rude ones. The madmen in Purani Dilli. The hyper-fashionable at South Delhi. And all of that around me. And my constant effort to document and record the multifariousness of life, the medley of sounds, the miscellany of caste, class, creed and civility. A city of contradictions, juxtapositions, of olds, and news.  

    But my Delhi Darshan is not why I write this blog. Let's get into the nitty-gritty of things, now. I have associated Delhi with many things, many people, with many songs, and many books. But, whenever I have landed in Delhi, I've been overcome with a tremendous sense of loneliness. While it has always exuded a sense of home, it has equally been a doorway to the world, for me. And it is here, where I had always felt, I was stuck in a bustling world, with no specific direction. Maybe that is why I have always sensed a belonging in the streets of Chandni Chowk, where no one knows me, where I am completely at ease in anonymity. This is where I allowed myself to be lost, engulfed in this self-wallowing. 

 

    But this time around, with Srijani, everything changed. Firstly, I came to terms with my nature. I was feeling more responsible, and wherever I could get lost in my dull senses of giving up, she would pull me out of it, with all her positivity, hopeful concerns and energy. Her sensitivity in all things make it so easier. A big step for me was to learn to share my feelings - something I was not good at. Moreover, we learnt so much about each other, here. I learned to be more patient, accommodate others' thoughts, ideas and plans. There is just something calming about her presence that makes one believe in better things to come. 

Srijani and I, overlooking the new Central Vista.

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    I remember, walking with her, on Maharaja Agarsen Road, after exiting Delhi Haat, and it was unnaturally dark, deserted, and cold. And we could hear each others' footsteps. And at that moment, I felt at my most comfortable, knowing I had a life ahead of me, which wouldn't be as bleak as I made it to be, the last time I was there. I was lost in my thoughts till I heard Srijani call out to me. And, I realised, being happy doesn't take too much. 

    

    I needed to reconcile with Delhi, because I needed to reconcile with myself. I needed to find my place in the world, I needed to know myself, for the better. And this trip allowed me to do that. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I chose to trust someone else with my plans, my days, my evenings. And, it all played out so smooth, so fulfilling.

    The day we were to return, Srijani asked me, why I didn't visit Nizamuddin, even when I had the time. I couldn't tell her why, then. I cannot tell you why, now. All I can tell you is the next time I visit Delhi, I know, Srijani will be with me, and we'll be at Nizamuddin. When we boarded the train, the sun was about to set. And it was about to set over Delhi, which is now not only my most favourite city in the world, but is also so for my most favourite person in the world. And as Srijani looked out of the window towards the foggy banks of the Yamuna, I realised, a couple of days back, when I was on the steps of the Jama Masjid, the cool Northern breeze had not only brought me the wisp of ittar, kebab, sharbat and incense - but it had also carried an encouragement to recognise; a recognition that would I allow me to trust someone more than I trust myself. And that was when I left my prayer. It was then when I surrendered my desires and hopes and wishes to that Northern breeze. If that is labelled faith - so be it. Anand Vihar had crossed by, and I was happy knowing that I was going back home with the person I wanted to be with, to be around; knowing that I would return to Delhi with this very same person.

See you soon, Dilli.

Note: We've clicked tons of pictures in Delhi. I leave with a collage of three pictures that I took, on our way back. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I want to remember this trip by this picture.

Srijani and her Myriad Moods!