I have hated Delhi for as long as I can remember.
And it's not because I am from Mumbai. It's not the stupid Mumbai vs Delhi argument. For the record, I do not understand that war. They're two different cities. There's no comparison.
No, this is not that. This is a personal dislike that has taken root since I've been old enough to read newspapers. Rape capital. Unsafe. Crimes towards women. Headlines screaming horrible things happening to women every day. Listening to friends with stories about revolting bus commutes, friends with a fear of crowded spaces with groping hands, rickshaw drivers being next to impossible... etc.
I would think to myself, what a horribly hostile place this seems to be.
As I grew older, Delhi started to reach out and make its presence felt. Close friends moved to Delhi, job opportunities tentatively tapped my shoulder, a lot of fun travel seemed to have its jump-off point in the capital. I kept my visits short. It IS a beautiful, beautiful city. But to visit. To move? Even for the job opportunities, I laughed at the mere thought. Never, I said. Never.
My fear and suspicion was exaggerated, even irrational. I knew that. My friends tried hard to understand it. See, I've travelled the world, stayed alone in forests, hiked alone, got lost in foreign countries, all of it. But ask me to take a rickshaw by myself in Delhi and I'd start to feel anxious. Everywhere else in the world, I'd set about knowing roads, and maps and trails. Here, my mind rejected the names of places I'd been to 50 times. I just didn't want to give it any space in my mind. Yes, that bad. Paranoia.
And to make it worse, just for fun, every time I visited this city, strange and unpleasant things happened. And my friends would look suitably dismayed and say, "This ALMOST NEVER happens. This is SO rare."
And that’s when I realized that the feeling was mutual. The city could smell my fear. She sensed my dislike. And she made sure I didn't feel welcome.
The first time I stayed for a longish period of time, we were targeted by a group of local boys out looking for a good time. It was late, and we'd just finished watching a movie. S and I were walking back home with her cousin, not 10 minutes from the theatre. I was tense about walking, what with all the stories I'd heard. A car filled with testosterone zoomed past with drunk catcalls. I looked very worried. S said, "Don't worry, we're almost home. Nothing's going to happen." A few minutes, I saw the car again, it had taken a U-turn. S's cousin, M, a lanky boy ushered us on. The car slowed as it passed us, and then stopped. I turned to see at least 10 drunk boys jump out the car. S grabbed my hand, "Don't look," she said, "just walk." I heard footsteps actually running behind us on the pavement. I was terrified. One of the boys passed us at a run and stopped in front of us, blocking our way. The group stood behind us. No question really of ignoring them now. He was well dressed, from a "nice home", and drunk out of his wits. He stepped closer to us, stopped a couple of inches from us; he was reeking of alcohol, and plucked a flower from a low branch next to us, came even closer, sniffed the flower ostentatiously, let us be very frightened, and then dropped his hand and strolled back to the car amidst hoots and uproarious laughter. S, M and I, relieved and shaken rushed home. Of course, we laughed about it after but when it happened, we were all sure this was going to get ugly. That was my first night in Delhi with S. She had spent the whole day trying to widen my narrow view of the city, to show me that it was an easy, good place to live. She said she had lived there for years. This had NEVER happened before. Of course not.
After that, it was regularly downhill. We got fleeced almost every time I attempted any transaction. A cab driver turned particularly nasty and potentially dangerous one night as we returned and tried to negotiate rates. I saw him stand downstairs, watch us climb up, see what floor the lights came on at, counted the flats, and leave. I was certain he would later come and do damage. A car had once tailed us after a brief altercation in traffic right to our doorstep. My friend's driver once told my pregnant friend to get out of the car if she didn't like the way he drove. Or threatened to leave the car, there in the middle of the road, with her in it (she didn't know how to drive) and so on...
I kept thinking with each trip, what is this place? I was always so happy to leave. And Delhi, I am sure, was always happy to see me go.
And now... in 2012, I've fled from Mumbai. Running from a toxic space in my head. To seek solace. To make some sense of how to pull this burning skewer out of my heart. And since irony is such a so-and-so, I've arrived, bags in tow, to Delhi, where my closest friends live. I haven't moved here, gosh, no. But I do want to spend more time with them. And in that, I am forced to rethink my battle with Delhi.
It's difficult enough I'd think to orient yourself to a new place and when one has a history that's based on mutual dislike and suspicion, it's hard work. But I am trying. The city is beautiful, and has some great places to walk around in, and the food is really to die for.
In the days I've been here, I've taken the metro (with friends), rickshaws (alone) and am meeting some very interesting people for fun creative work. And recuperating in the amazing love of P and SR, and the occasional hilarious, snarky comment from A. After a long time, my mind is deliciously blank. After a long time, I am at what could be close to peace.
So Delhi, in return, knew I was broken this time I'd come, and the war would have to wait. She was stepping back a bit, and letting me get up and dust myself off.
And in the middle of her blistering summer, she made it rain for me today. With my nth cup of tea, I stood in the balcony, the rain washing away all the burnt and scorched thoughts, the unexpected cool breeze blowing away the negativity that I'd carried along. The smell of wet earth was doubly divine as it wasn't scheduled for another few months.
It's almost like she was saying, the storm's over now, it's a beautiful day.
That's being more decent than I'd ever expected from her.
So tomorrow we'll start our battle again. Except now it's degenerated to a friendly match.
The score so far, Delhi: 2. Me: 1.
The game is a long one though. I will catch up. I am going to look her in the eye.
Let's see who blinks first. :)
