Being Delhi

It's just simply the world's best feeling. To be in Delhi. Its also the world's best feeling to be in Cochin, but Delhi wins by a tad bit more. Those colonial white houses take my breath away. Those white kurta pyjama clad newspaper reading chachoos, cotton sari clad maasees, the cook who makes the floor matte clean, the steel pots with unsuitable water, the steel plates neatly arranged with pickle, aloo paratas and yoghurt- It is comforting. I miss those things even though I almost never stay in Delhi- I am not a familiar Delhi-ite. But the few days that I do manage to grab a bit of Delhi are always happy. I love to get my money exchanged, catch a rickshaw and head to the bazaars. The bookshops. Those yummy shops smelling of fresh print and ink...MMmmmm. You can get lost in the world of books in Delhi. Well, you can get lost in any bookshop. Its easy when you love books. But the ones in Delhi make my heart beat faster. It makes me want to wear fab India, makes me want to read the White Mughal in an hour and write a thesis in JNU. It also makes me want to eat a quick gulp of paani puuri and paapdi chat and drink a whole glass of Lassi.
It makes me want to talk to the rickshaw driver and ask him how his kids are doing or his wife or lover. It makes me want to give a crisp 10 rupee note to the poor kid tagging at my kurta. Delhi makes you want to do a lot of things. Even the bath after you come back home, the clean white bathroom tiles and the chana roti dinner awaiting you is part of the city. You can then just pull your cotton kurta up, sit back on the wooden chair with cushions, fold your legs and cuddle with a book. For me even the Outlook magazine and The Week gives me a shiver down my spine to read about my country, its problems, the issues, the politics and the last page with page 3 gossip. Its all part of the city life. It is what I think I might enjoy some day when I go back. I crave for it now though.