My three-year long stay in Delhi finally came to a halt on July 1, 2013. I was kind of devastated (please bear with my exaggeration) when I learnt in April that I was to leave Delhi by July. I started to look at the things present around me differently- the roads, the shops, the food, the dog, the pigeons (so many!), the beggars, the books, the heat, the sweat, the longing for winter, the desire to get drenched in rain and the reasons to hold on to the place. I also began to appreciate things that were not present around me- cow dung and cows, muddy roads, judgmental eyes, nagging fingers etc. I was expecting myself to wail on the railway platform. Or at least, shed one tear, just one, like a hero or something. But I didn’t. In fact, I was so occupied with managing the fourteen bags that I had with me that it took me about 43 minutes to realize that I had already crossed Delhi. But it didn’t take me any more than 24 hours to realize that I am brutally in love with Delhi! Yes, I miss Delhi.
I made friends. I lost some. And I concluded you never lose friends. I loved (again). Then, I un-loved (again). And I concluded, Karan Johar contradicted his own “Hum ek baar jeete hain, ek baar marte hain.. Pyaar bhi ek baar hota hai” crap in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. I traveled on the road that led me to narcissism from self-loathing via self-discovery. I began to write like I had never written before. I met new people. Good people. I met writers, people who are fond of writers, people who find writers annoying and people who are indifferent towards writing. I had the privilege of attending various Indiblogger Meets. But for some reason or the other, I missed each of those. At least, I had the privilege of having an option to go and attend an Indiblogger Meet! (Now, I don’t). The three years were not a roller coaster ride. It was a journey- a beautiful, long, hauntingly pleasing and pleasingly surprising journey. And I loved every part of it. And I am gonna miss it. In fact, I already do.
I miss getting food delivered at my doorstep at 1 AM. I miss spending time with my two absolutely gorgeous friends. I miss the streets, the metros, the ease, the comfort and the love the city bears in utter disguise! I miss “Me & Him” where I could get the perfect hair-cut for just 99 bucks! I miss the food- Tandoori Momos from QD’s, Traffic Jam, Bun-butter, Food Factory’s Hyderabadi Biryani with Raita and all the food that has added more to my weight. They said, you’ll get slim once you start living in a hostel. HA HA, people. HA HA!
I will miss the long walks around the campus on cold winter nights. I will miss that Rikshaw wale uncle who took only 20 bucks from us, no matter how far you ask him to go! God bless that man. I will miss my Alma Mater. The red walls. Nescafe. The huts. Frappe. Soup. I will miss it all. PS. Miranda House looks gorgeous during monsoon.
There are just, just so many things I will miss. There’s just nothing I would ever wanna forget. It was all too good to be true. May be, whatever happened in Delhi, would have happened to me anyway. May be, I would still have been able to discover myself, and what I want, had I lived somewhere else. May be, I give way too much credit to Delhi. But why shouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I? After all, it’s Delhi! And some chapters of life are beautiful simply because they happen in Delhi. I love the place with all its flaws. That’s the kind of true love people talk about, right? Well guess what, I am in love. And I hope, someday, I will be reunited with the one I love. Till then, a new destination and a new journey await me. 🙂
PS. I finally cried on the sixth night.