Yeah Dilli hai mere yaar

Every time I go home to Jodhpur and then come back to Delhi, I realise how this city has a habit of making me fall in love with it all over again. And yet when I spend each day here, it makes me want to go out and discover another city. I don’t know how the other immigrants of this city feel, but I have the whole love-hate thing going on here. After spending good eight years here at a stretch, I feel like I still don’t know the city too well. And yet I am such a Dilliwali myself. And just when I was trying to understand this arrogant, annoying, beautiful, modified, scary, stylish and self-conscious city I got a mail that I can’t help but share with everyone. These are some typical Dilliwala traits, I have some, I have seen some and I have heard some… quite funny how people observe. 

 

You know you are from Delhi when...

 1. You drink only on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday to Sunday evenings. And try not drinking on Tuesday. Wonder why!
 2. Treating a friend means - Daaru Shaaru te kabbab shabaab.
 3. Even in the most posh colonies, you hear, “Aaloo lelo, Bhindi le lo, Pyaaz le lo, Tamatar le lo...”
 4. And you hear women asking the vegetable vendor, “Bhaiyaa dhaniya hari mirchi nahi diya!” (Even with Half a kilo Carrot - Dhania & Hari Mirch is expected free) ;-)
 5. A place to meet is Mocha, CCD, Barista, Hookah.
 6. You use the word “setting” or “jugaad” at-least once a day.
 7. You have not visited either of - Qutub Minar, Red Fort, Lotus Temple. It is only for tourists, so Delhiites say.
 8. You ride on the cycle rickshaw in NOIDA (more popularly known as NEODA) - haggle over the price, but still pity rickshaw walla’s condition and give him what he asked.
 9. You glare at people who call Gol Guppas as Pani Puri!
 10. You always ask the vendor, “Bhaiya yeh Gol-Guppe Aate ki hai ya Sooji ke?”
 11. Schooling is best in Delhi not because of CBSE, but because you’ve had school cancelled thrice due to cold in winters & summer vacations pre-poned due to sudden increase heat in summers and at least two rainy day off during monsoon.
12. You have been to a wedding at a Mehrauli farmhouse at least once.
14. You call the waiter in the restaurant “boss” or “Pappey” & tack on “yaar” “bhai” to almost every sentence.
15. You know that Pappay Da Dhaba or Kake Da Hotel has better butter chicken than Taj. You’ve at least tried it once! And you see a BMW, a Porsche or a Mercedes parked outside it!
16. You describe practically every other person on the planet as “vella”. (‘Idle’ or Nikamma in Punjabi).
17. You see middle-aged Aunties wearing Gucci shades and holding LV bags having Gol-Gappas in GK or Bhelpuri in South-Ex along with Diet Coke!
18. You call every stranger Bhaiyya.
19. You refer to East Delhi as ‘Jamuna Paar’.
20. You refer to AIIMS as Medical.
21. Pretty girls as Totta, Maal or Bamb (Punjabi for Bomb).
22. Aashiq mizaz boys as Majnu di Aulad!
23. You don’t buy tickets for a music concert or cricket match, but try to use political contacts... of the deputy secretary of the chief secretary of the Minister of State for Khadi.
24. You overtake everyone from the wrong side and stare into his/her eyes while doing so.
25. You have at least two cars and a motorbike at home.
26. And you have fought at least once every month with neighbours over parking.
27. You park your car and take an auto-rickshaw to Lajpat Nagar / Rajouri/ Kamla Nagar/ Karol Bagh. But CP, you don’t get parking space easily, yet you go always in your own vehicle.
28. And then you say apni kanvense (conveyance) howe na ta badi Kanvinyance (convenience) hondi hai ji!
 29. You’ve hit 120 kmph at Nelson Mandela Marg and waited for midnight to do it.
 30. You have bribed a traffic cop (Mama) at least once, every month.
 31. You know that a farmhouse has nothing to do with cattle or farming. It is luxurious hangout for whole night.
32. You use “contacts” (jugaad) for everything, from getting movie tickets to restaurant bookings to play-school admissions.
33. You have had Anda parantha outside Vikram hotel and Bun Omlette at Dhaula Kuan, Kulfi at Karol Bagh, Gol Gappe at India Gate, Dosa at Madras Hotel, Chana/Kulcha at Scindia House and Chaat at UPSC.
34. Metro rail is your pride but you travel in your car.
35. You call people from North-East ‘chinkis’.
36. You think EVERY South Indian comes from ‘Madras’ and is Madrasi.
37. You feel indicating which way you are going to turn your vehicle is an information security leak.
38. You are a good driver because you are correct in your guess of what the driver in the front vehicle will do.
39. The only time you went to the Chidiya Ghar (Zoo) was on a school picnic.
40. You expect around 10 FM STATIONS in every city! Woho!
41. Despite all the good and bad... You still Love Delhi
42. You keep singing ... Dilli hai Dil Walon ki... Oye Balle Balle!

Read between the lines...

For all is not always lost and everything is not always found! So my trips to the lost and found continue… silently. And yet somehow there are sounds that keep the questions going. And imagines from the past that like to tease and wince. My eyes are open, though my mind is sleepy. Is there anyone who is ready to say, ‘it’s all going to be ok!’? Is there anyone to tell me the way? Or is there still more to read in the lines on my hand?

When Jerry came to Dilli…

Change of any sort is always welcome. Change in the time of the day, change in the place you work, the house you live in, the people you meet and blah-blah-blah. Basically, I could go on and on forever about the advantages. But we all take our different times to adjust to change. However, what if you meet someone who is the change himself and can let everyone be themselves around him and can also be like them in no time? Hey don’t look confused… this is what happened…
On one happy in the head night, I started chatting with a friend on a networking site that I have an account on. Now, I still have no clue how we were on each other’s friend list, but we just were. I had a funny tagline and he asked me about it and we started chatting. In fact, since that day we chatted so much that I got inspired to write my last blog. Yes I am talking about Jerry. Now I have started calling Jerry, the wanted change in my life. This fella (25 biologically and about 16 mentally), is crazy and that I mean in a good way. Now without going in much detail, I am going straight to the day when he came to Delhi. A little background on Jerry – born and brought-up in Dubai, has been in India for 8 years and has seen Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Goa and Pune. So this was Jerry’s first visit to Delhi. I told him that he should not let himself get conned and take a pre-paid taxi from the airport. He did exactly that, but as luck would have it… he ended up with a taxi driver who didn’t know much about Delhi roads. So the distance from the airport to Green Park, which they would have covered in 30 minutes, they took about 1 hr. this is also the first time when I was going to meet him in person, till before that (though I had seen his pictures, ‘Playboy pose especially!’) I could only visualise him as Jerry the smart-ass mouse. But when I went to pick him up from the guesthouse, I saw a sweet-looking boy with a cute smile. OK Jerry if you are reading this then don’t blush!!!

Jerry’s day 1 in dilli…
We first went to my favourite place in Delhi that plays rock and retro music called TC. Now the only thing in my entire life that I have experimented with is dancing and oh yeah music. But when it comes to alcohol, I stick to the very basic fauji style rum and lady like coke. Jerry’s idea was to start off drinking this evening with kamikaze shots. Dude all I could think of was, I will have to cut down on my rum and coke tonight. We had a white smooth drink in one gulp and then Jerry gave his signature style grin and said; ‘Now we can order the regular!’ After gulping down a lot of our regular, we hit the dance floor and danced with everyone we knew and even sang a happy birthday song for this guy who we didn’t know. Actually to be honest, it was a chocolate cake that made us sing for him. Like enthu-cutlets we wanted to party more, so another friend of mine suggested Agni. Now the deal with Agni is that it plays hip-hop, R&B and Hindi. So initially Jerry said, ‘I am not dancing on this man!’ Now come on which man on mother earth lived up to his words after 2 more shots of kamikaze and N number of his regulars? None!!! All I remember from Agni is Jerry pulling strangers to the dance floor, dancing with just about everyone there, even a weird couple and a lady asking me to kiss her. Ok now you guys want to sit on the edge of the seat huh! Don’t worry I am going to spoil your party right here, I declined to do her the favour. After leaving Jerry and my other friends at their homes, I saw the most beautiful sunrise in so many years, while I was on my way home.


Jerry’s day 2 in dilli…
I was surprised when I woke up with no hangover. After wrapping up work and making a rough sketch of what to drink that evening I went out to pick up Jerry. He wanted to see Select City Walk. Quite touristy, eh! Not really, actually Jerry was here in Delhi because of work, but he was trying to make the most of it. So no matter how hard he wanted to see Chandni Chowk and many other places, he just never got a chance to. We went to Select and he loved the space and the mall. We ended up eating at a restaurant called Chi… which later we loved calling Chiiiii! If all this so far seems quite down to earth and normal, then you don’t want to know what happened next. I brought him home because one of my flatmates was hosting a party for a couple of her office friends. Now according to me those people are kind of caricatures, who I can spend hours describing and not even write pun intended at the end. But I wanted to see Jerry’s reaction. And it was as I expected – ‘Dude where are they all from?’ I so wanted to say not from this planet! But compliments to Jerry he found the group quite entertaining. ‘You see I am never around normal people and these guys are humans man. So this time I am not a part of it, but it is like watching a TV and this channel is quite entertaining!’ From Pappu Can’t Dance Sala, Dhoom Tana… we all danced to every number! And while the girls were busy checking out cute Jerry, cute Jerry was busy cracking joke about them.


Jerry’s day 3 in dilli… the final one
I didn’t know what all to show Jerry in Delhi on his last day or rather night in Delhi. On his way to CP, which he had mentioned he wanted to see, he saw Gate Way Of India. Sorry Jerry this part was too tempting to not write about. Actually Jerry has spent too much time in Mumbai and actually forgot that Delhi’s Gate way is actually called India Gate. I showed him a bit of CP, which but of course he liked, another friend of mine and me took him to TC. Well, trust me even he wanted to go there again. Another friend joined us there. No prizes for guessing what we began our evening of intoxication with - Kamikaze Shots. Then we had the regulars, then we had tequila shots, then we had the regular and finally we ended our evening at TC with peach schnapps’ shots. Wow… Jerry and I could have been officially termed as the alcoholics… but trust me we were just happy in the head. After this we obviously wanted to dance, but Agni was shut. So we settled for the quiet and nice Shangri-La hotel’s coffee shop. We ordered our regulars and Jerry and I discussed life. Now one thing I must confess, Jerry can be very mature when he wanted to be. If you have the patience to hear him sometimes, then he can be quite logical. This evening we didn’t want to sleep till at least 7am. But who can be awake after so much of intoxication and on top of that I put on a movie like Sweeny Todd. Jerry slept of and so did I. Jerry woke up and left soon after because he had to pack and also wrap up his work. However, I forgot to mention here that in the three days there is one thing he did religiously, even if he is a self confessed atheist, he had his foot-long glass filled with banana shake. He took the afternoon train back to Mumbai and took with him no pictures, but lots of memories. What he left behind were memories not just in my mind, but in the mind of people he very briefly met. The silly guy that he is, he thanked later for all the fun he had in Delhi. But honestly, I wanted to thank him more for the change he became in my life. So I am not sure if I can continue with the tradition of Kamikaze Shots, but I can definitely meet more strangers and yes even pull some on the dance floor or even go to a strange city, which I don’t know, and tell the taxi driver, “Bhaisaab yeh aap kahaan se gaadi le rahe hoon?”

Love… a series of lost of founds!!!

Sometimes it is fun to listen when you are a talkative person. No I am not hinting at anyone but myself. So one fine day, I yet again dedicated myself to hear a friend’s ‘tragic’ (according to him) and a ‘bestseller’ (according to me) story, of life and love. My friend, who for the record I haven’t met for ages and didn’t really ask much about his personal life, stays in the business capital of India… Mumbai. So the other day on chat we decided to be candid about the number of relationships we had been in. Me, who actually could have had a more rocking reply to that if I had not spent half my life living like a tomboy, said one disaster and one fling. “You got to be kidding me… that’s all. Well then you must hear me out!”
The problem with me is that when someone says hear me out, I am ok with that considering I am allowed to make excuses in the middle saying that I am going for a meeting, have a dinner to attend at the neighbour’s house, have an early morning work to attend to and even the fact that my cat needs to be fed. I don’t have a cat; in fact I am not very fond of the species. But when someone uses the word ‘must’, I feel trapped… I get inquisitive and worried about the hours it is going to take to come to the end of it all. It is seen in most cases that the use of the word ‘must’ is done in situations that definitely need to be underlined as ‘must dos’ and ‘must don’ts’. This one I tagged as must read!
So keeping my friend’s identity in tact and naming him Jerry, my most favourite and smartest toon character, I proceed.
Jerry is from London, born and brought up my Non-resident Indians. Now London is not just the center of culture in terms of art, music, festivals, museum and 300 nationalities. Love is an inherent part of the culture, just like tea with a hint of lemon. So my friend Jerry fell in the love the first time when he was 16-years-old and she (the first girlfriend) was about 15-years-old. Jerry loved her truly and she loved him too. The cute teen love that is of the most predictable sort. The only twist in this tale was that she moved to Paris to saying that she has breast cancer and didn’t want to ruin Jerry’s like. Poor Jerry took a pledge that he will love her for the rest of his life and only wait for her to come back to his life after she recuperates. “What I didn’t know was that she actually had another boyfriend in Paris, who was rich and also got her an admission in Collège de Montaigu, the University of Paris. I mean I always knew she was quite creative, but later I realised that she was also a very creative liar,” said my friend. So while the first girlfriend wondered off to be a part of a college from where the likes of John Knox, the Scottish reformer and John Mair, who later taught theology there.
Jerry again made a pledge to not fall in love, at least with a girl who loves art and can be quite creative. So the next time he fell in love was when he was 18-years-old and she was 17-years-old. She was an aspiring model, and he was planning to come to India to connect with his roots and study. But she was too beautiful and too dumb to let go off. So plans to discover the roots were shelved for a bit. The affair went on for about six-months and Jerry went to church every Sunday just to thank god for this one. But I guess even god didn’t want to stop right there. On Jerry’s birthday he kept waiting for soon-to-be model girlfriend to call and wish him before the world did. After not receiving a call till noon, he thought that she must have fallen ill or something. But when he reached her home, he saw the board of for sale at the house. After probing the neighbours for a bit he discovered that the girlfriend’s father owed a lot of money to some people and because he didn’t have any, he ran away from London with his entire family. “Did she leave a letter or a note or something for me? I am her boyfriend and I know she loves me quite a bit,” Jerry asked the neighbour. The neighbour said, “She left this!” and gave him a bill of 13 pounds for the cake she had ordered for him. “At least she left a cake for me, so what if I had to pay the bill as well?” And that is my dear friend Jerry and his optimism. But his plans to come back to his roots fell in place.
He came to India, looking for good colleges and work. “And then I fell for a Gujju girl!” till I had heard all this, I had thought that cupid has counted arrows for everyone. But I guess not for Jerry. She was yet again dumb, but very sweet. So from being a vagabond non-vegetarian, Jerry transformed in the Sagar Ratna and Sukh Sarag regular. Left the flesh to enjoy the leaves. But how long could have Jerry lived away from first love. No not his first love the girl who faked her cancer, I am talking about meat… chicken. And people from PETA, please don’t get offended. Love is love. So Jerry bid farewell to the Gujju babe. Cool che, isn’t it!
So Jerry, my dear friend Jerry decided to give up on all this love-shuv funda and settle for the best option of life. The most famously tried and tested and does not need a handle with care tag – the best friend. Thankfully, Jerry throughout all this journey of ‘love and lost’ has had one best friend who has heard him, put logic in place and been a great support in life for many years now. And she is also the one with home he has been with since the past six years, and I won’t call it an affair or just been in love with… it is too small a word for a relationship like that. So no matter how much entertaining his life has been to me in the past and how I would have loved to see him have some more of such escapades, but I am happy that he has found a partner in a friend. And trust you me that is a better combination that rum-and-coke or Vodka on the rocks. So till Jerry says, “happily ever after!” I am happy sharing this life’s story with all who have the patience to read these 1,153 words now… 1,154 now… 1, 155 now…

Simply Single!!!

Being single in a metro can be a very easy thing and can be the most difficult task as well. You have the freedom of being your own person and not have to be someone’s arm-candy, as the Dilliwalas prefer it. But on the other hand, you cannot have late night outs if you are not in a huge group of friends. And I am not a crowd person, so invariably I have become a home bird by compulsion. One such very boring Sunday, a friend invited me to be a part of her brunch party. I am a very brunch person, considering I wake up at around 11am every day. So I made a bit of an effort for this one and went for this brunch party, where accept for my friend, who happens to be this high society Madame, I knew no one. The party was at the rooftop of her plush bungalow, and I love her house because her house is done up in the white theme. Yes when you have a lot of money you can have a theme for your house, but I hope you are not the kind of person who like florescent colours. I entered her rooftop just to find that this was no different than any other page 3 party. Stilettos, people marinated in perfumes and the cheek-to-cheek kisses. I quickly met my friend in the page 3 ceremonious way and made my way toward the bar for a glass of wine. I loved the slight breeze, the winter sun and wine. Just couldn’t have gotten better, when my friend walked up to me and said, “Hey darling I want you to meet my very dear friend from Canada. He is in Delhi for a bit and I thought you guys could hit it off really well.” This is the most difficult part of being single, the fact that most of your married friend try and fix you up with their other single friends. I mean when did the married community suddenly become cupid’s army? I obviously did not want to spoil my friendship with her and went with her to meet Mr Canada. As luck would have it, I was not the only one who was in line to meet Mr Canada. Women in the entire party had noticed him and took turns to meet him. I on the other hand was glad that the fella would not be disappointed if he did not me one lady in the party as he was being attended to by the rest. “And my dear handsome, this is a very dear friend of mine here in Delhi and she is a writer. She is my cutest girlfriend,” and this is how I was introduced to Mr Canada. Wow, was the compliment cute the last thing you get when someone runs out of compliments for you? Anyways, Mr Canada and I tried to make futile attempts at starting a conversation and suddenly he said, “I know what is happening here!” with a line like that, who wouldn’t be confused. “I know why I am getting so much importance here. It is because of the company I own and the money that I have in the bank, otherwise no one from this crowd would even turn and take notice of me,” he said. I was speechless. Here I was thinking that he was one of them and was also arrogant about that the fact that he was the most wanted one in this brunch party. But he proved me wrong all the way. “Oh ok, you got me there. I thought you liked all the attention you were getting,” I said. “You know I should be used to it now, but I don’t like It.” fair enough! And all of a sudden my friend’s friend from Canada became an interesting guy who I wanted to know more about. We sat closer to the bar and spoke about my work, his work, family and friends and lots more. “I am glad I met you here, otherwise I would have been on my way to the hotel a long time back,” he said. “Oh you can thank me later,” I said in a very non-chalant way. “So are you single?” he asked. Somehow after a great conversation, this seemed like the lamest question. “Yes I am. And in fact I am very happy being one,” I said, just to make it clear that I am single and not ready to mingle. Gee how cliché is that! “Woo… ok don’t worry I am not asking you to marry me or something. Will you be ok if I ask you out on let’s say a non-date date? Something like this that we did today, lots of funs talks and good food, what say?” he asked me. Generally when I am in situations like this, I usually say, “NO”. But this was a different case. This guy is intelligent, fun and I have to admit good looking. “Ummm… ok. Provided I am not bunking office for it,” I replied. And just like that my next weekend was booked and I don’t even remember what I ate at that brunch, but I am doing to still love brunches.
The date with Mr Canada was simple and sweet. A sumptuous dinner in Bukhara, a debate on homosexuality and a confession. No he did not confession that he is in love with me or something. In fact, he told me that he was in love, but with another guy. And that he has hidden the fact about his sexuality for almost 10 years from his family and friends. “I am the first one you are telling this to?” I asked him. “Yes, I somehow am tired of hiding it and you seems like a person who can keep a secret,” he said. I did not choke on the bread I was eating or run away from there, in fact, I was happy because I went this non-date date without any expectations. I have made great friends with Mr Canada, but just one question – why are most good looking and intelligent men taken or gay?

‘What you look like when you have a hangover’

I won’t be an unconventional girl and say that I am not into Chiclets, or chick flicks or even manicures. But like many other gurls, as a friend of mine likes to call us with a Brit accent, I don’t understand why all of us are just supposed to talk about the ‘EX’?
As a girl I can tell you one thing that we women never really know what we want at one point in time. So it can be a cute looking spikey-hair-gelled guy in a club, or a pup on the road in front of your office. The choice is always easy to make, but we make it difficult as if Obama’s life depended on it.
It is a very ‘Sex-In-The-City’ syndrome to talk about what went wrong with your ex-boyfriend. ‘He was cheating on me, he used to snore, he was dirty, even the fact that he did not gel well with my family… blah… blah… blah!’ Even I as a woman get annoyed with all this cribbing. Like this one afternoon when I was summoned by one of my very favourite girlfriends to Khan Market for lunch to sort out the self created battle in her head. Now before I go any further, me and my friends have always preferred Khan Market as opposed to any other market in delhi because that is the only place we all can spend an entire day doing nothing. There are very few shops and thankfully this limits my friends from shopping, and I HATE SHOPPING.
So this one winter afternoon, after taking a noisy auto ride, I reached Khan Market to see a chic, 5ft 7 inches tall, head turner, turned into a perfect example of a ‘What you look like when you have a hangover’. My girlfriend here has obviously taken this breakup with her first ever boyfriend on 25 years very seriously. “Look I am a wreck!” she said. The brash person that I am, I really wanted to say, “What’s the point announcing it, it is so in your face that you are a wreck.” But instead I let the friend in me talk. “Oh sweetheart, you will be better in no time,” how fake I sounded, but thank god that she didn’t notice this in her absent-minded state. We went to our favourite Thai restaurant – KITCHEN. We ordered the regular and then she started off. “I can’t believe it! Everything was just perfect till last week. I met his parents also, and he even went shopping with me for my new pup’s toys. He was also planning to shift base to Delhi from Mumbai and wanted to buy the car that I like. And now all of a sudden everything is over. I am here… all shattered and emotionally drained. And he is in Mumbai with a new girl. What the hell!” well you might take about 30 seconds to two minutes to read this bit, but my dear darling friend took flat 15 seconds to spit it all out. I feel like a genius for remembering it word-to-word. “Move on, what’s the point spoiling your Thai red curry over that arse? I mean listen you are a smart 25-years-old, earning well, good looking and lots of other stuff I am sure men will figure out. Why are you crying for someone who is not even there?” I asked her. See the difference here between men and women becomes very apparent. If a guy had a break-up and was sad about it, he would meet up his friends in a club or some place, have a few drinks, play pool, tak about it a little and then laugh it off. But with women, they just keep asking the question ‘WHY’ so many times that anyone can get exhausted… phew. “All I wanted to him to do was to marry me. And just because of that he flipped. After which I told him that if he can’t marry me now then why are we together. And he said, ‘ok we should part ways then’. And so we parted way!” wow she knows why it happened, asked for it in fact in so many words and is still stuck on ‘WHY’.
We finished our lunch; I so wanted to take a time out from this whining and made a bad suggestion. “Let’s go to Ambassador and have beer.” The words came out of my mouth as it someone did Voodoo on me. I guess after that what happened is a bit too obvious. We went to the hotel, drank… and drank… and drank. My friend passed out, I was dizzy in the head, but still left her home. By the time I reached home, I was looking like a wreck. And next day I woke up look ‘What you look like when you have a hangover’.
All of this because of that stupid EX!