A not so newcomer in New Delhi

I would like to share some observations about Delhi and trust me I have quite a few of them. Don’t worry I am not going to narrate all of them, I have other things to do you know. I am not so much of a newcomer to the city, it's been nearly three years since I am pretending to study here. I meant to write this earlier but managed to forget about it. But realising that the world can not move without my valuable comments I have finally put it in words. So enjoy my valuable observations, some stranger off the internet I hope I don't know.

First let me say Delhi is quite a green city, as compared to Kolkata I mean, and that is a welcome change to me. I just have to say one thing about Delhi, people here really love racing! I mean may it be cars, bikes, cycles or even the thelas, all seem to be running for the pole position. Now there’s nothing wrong with being a sports enthusiast. But maybe because I am a novice in such high-speed action I presume there is a difference between being passionate about racing and actually killing someone in the process. Unlike the sporty person in action, the one who is getting killed may not be a good sport and hate the idea of dying young (or old!).

The other day something funny happened to me. Well, funny to some, tragedy to me. I was just walking down the road abiding by the traffic rules, minding my own business. In comes a speeding biker with attitude and hair longer than mine, flaunting stylishly — the hair I mean. From the other side was coming a dudhwala in another bike. Nothing special about it … for a proper Delhiite but coming from Kolkata it was a real eye-catcher for me — a dudhwala on a bike! India shining I was thinking and then the asli drama happened. The cool dude was eyeing someone. While he was busy watching the scenery he lost control of the bike in this process and was about to hit the dudhwala. The latter managed to avoid the dude but lost control of his own bike and was about to run me down. No no, don’t worry, I am alive and kicking, but it was a real test of my reflexes. Anyway, I managed to do an Anju Bobby George much to my own surprise, as I have always been a born spectator of sports! I jumped, I lived, I hurt my ankle, and I fell on the road. So did the dudhwala and his bike. Amongst the pain and anguish, I came across a rare sight - streams of milk flowing in the streets of Delhi! Only the honey was missing, otherwise, it would have been the biblical heaven on earth. The people were neither laughing as some morons always used to do back home in Kolkata, nor gave a helping hand to either of us (unlike the same morons back home) but most shockingly and also sadly nor were they interested in being a witness of that heavenly scene. Being the saintly person that I am, I forgive them, they don’t know what they have done.

Buses with two doors—that I am quite familiar with, but one bus door for entry and the other for exit! I was impressed! Delhiwalas are so organised! Well, they are, maybe not the way I thought. For a better example of their talent you may try pick-pocketing—it has transformed into art; or eve-teasing, that’s getting innovative too. Coming back to the bus, ever tried to get down at your stoppage through the designated exit gate while your fellow citizens are hellbent to board the bus by the same gate? It’s really a fun activity that builds up your muscle while sharing hands-on practical tutoring on the theory of survival of the fittest.  If you don’t like the idea of learning while commuting, then how about putting some traffic signals on the gates to show when to wait and when to ride? If nothing else happens it will surely result in some profit-generation of the companies making the signals—the way most part of India still is they must be running loose, and maybe, just maybe, I will get the patent right and some badly needed cash and a Bharat Ratna award. A girl can dream!

Language can be a problem, but it's not actually. I have come across different variations of Hindi. Some speak their Hindi in Haryanvi, some in Rajasthani, some in Bhojpuri, some in chaste Urdu, and of course, I speak my Hindi in Bengali. It is quite a wonder that I was able to fairly understand what they said, but more amazingly they all managed to understand me too! Some even requested me to speak only in Bengali, saying they would understand me better that way.

I nearly forgot about Diwali! How nice of the little (and big) demons of the neighbourhood to remind me through those really noisy crackers. To really enjoy the pre-Diwali nights they light those up at the top of a car, selected especially for its loud, harsh and prolonged car-theft alarm, at around 1 or 2 am at the night (oh sorry, I mean to say morning). It is really fun, followed by the chorus of the gully gang of dogs piercing the silence of the night or what was left of it. The want for more action such as hunting down a few small-sized humans makes sure that you stay awake from your slumber, thus directly contributing in expanding your awareness of your surroundings and the world in the larger context. A true awakening!

There are a lot more I can share but I won't because someone might...how do you say in Delhi—'thrashofy' me! If you are experiencing any such emotions then do read the warning in the very first paragraph — I do not take any responsibility for any kind of damage.