Dilli : Existing in the heart of the country

 Between romance and revolution a city runs.




Delhi has always been a city that  has accommodated various cultures, interests and tastes. More importantly, it has matched my idea of romance better than any other city I've been to. I've grown up to realise that it is more of a colour palette than a city. 

Delhi’s sense of royalty hasn't ceased to exist. It is still served in plates by small vendors, it glistens in its colours and the entire shape of the city itself. Delhi carries itself magnificently, acing the tests of time. But it belongs not only to the ones furthering its richness also to every person who has loved flavour, fervour, fables and freedom. 

As someone who had never visited Delhi before she came there for higher studies and has now spent three successful years there, I can totally attest to the claim that Delhi embraces you each time you knock on its door. 

The four different directions are a celebration in themselves.Be it the loud and vibrant streets of Chandni Chowk or the posh, glimmering Khan Market, there is always a place to suit your mood. The loudness might agitate or enervate you, but one wouldn't want to be rid of it. Hauz Khas Village openly embraces your urge to dance and drown in oblivion. The cold breeze that flows around Hauz Khas Fort will not let you have enough of it. Mandi House knows exactly what you should be looking at or where you should be going to satisfy the artist in you. Even ever-running traffic around the area won’t frighten you. Bengali Market, right next to Mandi House, can totally serve your sweet tooth; the sweetness drips from the air around that area. Lodhi Garden, Agrasen ki Bowli, Red Fort, Hauz Khas Fort, Jama Masjid are for you to marvel at Mughal architecture. Aruna Nagar monastery’s quiet embraces you and calms the disquiet in you. The streets of Janpath and the corners of Sarojini Nagar take care of the shopaholics. A stroll and a choco bar at midnight from India Gate to the President’s residence is never a bad idea. Go on a bike ride around the inner circle at Connaught Place, and stop by at Wenger’s for a patty. 

There is no dearth of options in Delhi if you feel like some street food; from Lakshmi Nagar to Puraani Dilli, there’s more than you can manage. The never-ending stream of tangy and zesty chaat, soothing Gulaab Jaamuns, lip smacking mughalai food, making this a food city like none other. 

Delhi, an educational hub, draws students from all parts of India. Be it Delhi University, JNU, IIT-Delhi, IPU, National School of Drama, it's safe to say that the city brims with the brightest  youth in the country. Even the protests look like a celebration in the capital. The voices of the youth, hungry for a revolution, echo in each corner of the city.

In the hustle- bustle,there are quiet corners for the ones who seek peace of their mind or risk a romance. It’s unusual but Delhi is a melody interposed between silence and uproar. The city slips into quiet intervals yet is never gloomy. It runs and stops for a while, it looks back at you. The stillness, the silence doesn’t eat you up because you know it will resume. The people here run with you and after a while the noise becomes a music.

Between romance and revolution a city runs.






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I used to believe that there's nothing as jarring as the noise of a smothered weep or the silence that follows it

Image
 Perhaps the silence scattered in our minds, stuffed in our stories, layering our reality,  sneakily growing on the pretext for peace is lost on us.  It remains forgotten until we're arrested by it. Sometimes, in the happiest, warmest, truest moments,  in the company of those we love dearly It transforms into an unspeakable grief. Now, this is why I stress on love: It acquaints us with the truths we thought we'd never get to know but have known all the while. That one fine evening when my silence arrested me, It was your tenderness that made me utter- "I should've said it long ago, but I didn't know what to say." The grief didn't remain unspeakable, after all. I held your hand.
Read more

Methods

Image
 To love is to become the other  So when nothing remains in this world the quiet of this sacrifice floats in the air Like the silence of a lost one does Years later they're gone. So years after you've been lost  And so has everything in the world And nothing remains  The void will remember you for bending it By becoming its own In silence, in love.
Read more

Pious violence

Image
 Our animosity towards God is reflected in every distressing possession we have sacralized. every piece of land we split in two every door we latched to keep someone every unmindful attempt of being. Our misgivings and that cynical terror, each one, each time is a violent attempt  to ravage his idea. His effortless tyranny we say  is a way to speak to us,  As if he's begging us to say his grace, Rub our hands into rivers, till they melt Beat our backs, till they break Sing songs till our parched throats get drenched in blood. His barbaric ways- tests of time, we think are his favourite methods of communication. With our  coward beating hearts,  severe reluctance to take a chance, We refuse to even touch  that it might just all be made up. Our cracked understanding of concepts, Disgust for a shared bite, uninterrupted convenience and piercing silences, All dance upon the rubble of his home While we light up a candle, ring some bells and join our hands f...
Read more