I was in a nearby park in the evening today where I interacted with a school-going boy who was there with a friend. The boy with whom I was talking was talking a little gibberish and then I missed Mysore.


My friends also spoke gibberish and do so even to this day. And now, when I am in the north and my friends down south, I miss such talk, although it does not make much sense. Its just a couple of people yapping away. It makes you feel glad.


I miss writing. The last weekend, I was at the Sangeet Natak Akademi and listened to some beautiful music on the shehnai. It was soothing. Also saw a nice Kannada play. There was a festival going on where they had invited artists from across the country.

Something happened yesterday and I had to depend on a third person for my safety. I dislike such instances where my vulnerability is evident. The vulnerability arises because I'm a woman. I'm okay being vulnerable, but only to people whom I am comfortable with. Apart from family, there are very few with whom I am vulnerable with, and I'm ok with that. In fact, i feel happy that there are some people concerned about me. But yesterday was certainly not to my liking. Is it so difficult to be a woman? Why can't a woman be looked upon as an individual first, and then a woman. Of course, there are times, when the feminity of a woman comes ahead of the individual, but that's hardly most of the time.

I read a piece by a woman writer today on rape of a girl kid. I also read something on how Srinagar's water bodies are disappearing due to rapid urbanisation. I was annoyed and irritated.


Is it so bloody difficult for us to respect the other sex, is it so bloody difficult for our men to understand that women are more than weaklings than they are made to be. Guess it is so. I use the public transport in Delhi, and i have heard people use the m********d and b*******d word on the road. It is appalling that people of different age groups, all male use the word, maybe, as part of their daily vocabulary. I don't know the equivalent words in Kannada, I have not come across them on the streets of Bangalore. Maybe, I was leading a protected life there, without my knowledge.


Maybe, when I say that I want to be looked upon as an individual first, and them as a woman, I am asking for the sky. I doubt if society is capable of it.

It's been quite some time since i posted here. I was busy at work. And during that i lost my phone. I was just starting to like Delhi but then, losing-the-phone incident make me look at everything in Delhi suspiciously.

I didn't do anything much except work. And since the past couple of weekends, have been getting back to now what weekends actually are. The extreme summer in Delhi didn't help either. It does not even now, with the temperatures outside hovering around 40 degrees. I guess during summer, all i can do is talk about Delhi's heat. Due to which, my exploration of Delhi has come to a complete halt.

It's sad but i haven't seen half of the highlights of Delhi, because of the heat again.

I was waiting at the bus stop for a bus near work. I was observing this group of three people, a mother and two kids. If i remember correctly, the elder kid was a girl and younger one was a boy. During the wait, the mother spat on the road. The girl emulated the mother perfectly, i guess trying to prove some point. Her actions suggested it. She did it twice.

This is one of the few things about Delhi that i don't like. I have mentioned this in my previous posts as well. I am sure that the girl will continue with her new habit. I don't know if people in the North chew more betel leaves, pan masalas or tobacco than in the south.

Sad and distasteful to say the least.

This is so miserable. I was going to write on how nice the weather is outside. I didn't think of writing anything else which does not sound so good. Yesterday when watching tv, i knew that some channels were showing good movies, but i still chose to watch an okish movie that i have seen many timed over. I guess it's the work. You just want some easy entertainment. It should be ok to miss out on a few dialogues, scenes and you still want to follow the story.

That said, i will try writing about some of the scenes i saw in Delhi. Some of which i know sounds, no, you will rather figure out what my opinions are.

After having had a breakfast of eggs and bread, i am brewing my tea. I will be drinking it in a few minutes time. The heat during the afternoons is so bright that you can't look without crinking your eyes in the bright sunlight unless you have sunglasses on.

Yesterday when i was waiting, most of the voices around me were speaking Bengali. It has been some time since i have heard this many. I was in C. R. Park and i shouldn't expect to hear any other language. Hindi is also heard but Bengali drowns it.

I was walking by Market 2 after a month or so. There was a small traffic jam there. The way of entrance was by the fish stalls, and i covered my nose. I did smell the inevitable whiff. I headed to a store to buy something, where the person in-charge spoke to me in Bengali. I didn't bother telling him i was not one. I saw people sitting, buying fried savouries and sweets from a Bengali sweet shop. A friend and i used to visit this place every weekend in the evenings. We ate, drank and talked. One thing that surprised and disappointed me about that place is that tea sold in the tea stall is not very good.

This is something i miss. I miss spending time in C. R. Park. I still can go to there but, i would be alone and that's no fun at all. The markets in Delhi are very attractive in the evenings. Alaknanda Market too. There's nothing fancy. That said, the crowd and more importantly, the atmosphere there is really appealing.

There is this road which opens into another perpendicular to the former. Similar to majority of the roads constructed everywhere. I sometimes use this road to go to a nearby market or to buy fruits from one of these handcarts. There is a handcart amongst some others which dot this road. In the evenings, this is generally manned by a boy about ten years old. I address him as 'chotu', after observing that adults generally address young boys by this word.

Though he is just another young boy, i tend to think that this boy is endearing. I walk to him, unknowingly point at bitter gourds, ask him the price of cucumbers. He then corrects me and asks me if i want bitter gourds. I tell him 'No, i want cucumbers, how much is one kg?' He quotes a price and looks at me. The eyes are lined with kohl, a shining face, the shine added by some perspiration and some oil that has seeped in from his shock of dishevelled oiled hair.

I say nothing and i start walking away. He calls behind me 'Didi, come here'. He lowers the price and waits to see if i turn around and head back to the cart and buy it from him. What exuded from him was pure childhood innocence. Maybe, the thought of exchanging a few words with him made me go near his cart, even though i didn't want to buy anything from him. Maybe.

I walk down Lodhi Road from the Indian Habitat Centre (where i sometimes work) to the nearest metro station in the evening. When the Sun has already set or still borders the horizon, hence making the sky appear in orange and crimson and a myriad of other shades in between. Across the road are the Lodhi Gardens and the residences of some of India's politicians and other people of that class of our society.

In the corners of the road, are the traffic lights (red light or lal batti as they called in Delhi) to guide automobiles to stream one after another in various directions. As i stand in one such corner, near one such traffic signal waiting for it to turn green so that i can cross the road, i turn around to see if something else catches my eye. I do see.

I see a man in his late forties, squatting in front of a raised platform. This man is dressed in a shirt and a dhoti which was once white, both hugging his thin frame. He is one of the million nondescript laborers that keeps a huge city like Delhi on its feet. A small piece of aluminum foil glitters in the semi-dark environment. Some small cuts of paper and a powdered substance lies on the foil. He rolls some of the substance into the paper and lifts the new roll to his lips.

Turning to look at the traffic signal, i see that it is green and i cross the road. No, i didn't look back at the man smoking a drug, maybe ganja or smack.

I sit on one of the million terraces in Delhi, bend my head backwards to see planes fly by. Guess the airspace above the area I stay is the route which most flights take when flying in or out of Delhi.

I can hear two-three cars honking. As I type, the number it vehicles just increased. It will continue until the jam there is resolved. People love honking here.

The terrace is surrounded by trees, thankfully. As vehicles drive on the road two storeys down, that part of the road, rather that part of the foliage lights up minimally. 

These days i wouldn't prefer not going to malls to hang out. The food there is expensive, yes, and the malls in Delhi (my observation) are 'uber-materialistic' (maybe this is a little exaggerated, but you do get me, right?). One can see a lot of fancy stuff there, and if you have money to spend and want to buy things, these are the ideal locations. I would go on to say that Delhi being what it is, is aping the West than Bangalore.

That said, malls are sheltered and air-conditioned which is pretty much the reason why i would want to hang-out with my friends there.

Coming back to the Delhi and its association with fancy things - one of the things that i, personally don't appreciate (i really can' figure out the right word to use here) is the fact that people as in women make up their faces even when they stay at home. To have your lips coloured is a very normal thing is Delhi. I have seen women from different social strata (this is only my observation, and is not a generalization) doing it. Still haven't figured out a reason why.

This was something to me. I remember having told my parents that we wear clothes and other things to shield ourselves from the external environment and clothes, shoes, jewellery, body-care all evolved from there.

P.S. I am not a saint. I like to buy things too. I bought silver jewellery last week.
P.P.S. It's been eight years on this blog!

I really wish i had gone out of Delhi during the Holi weekend. Out of Delhi for a holiday. Yes i had fun, i played Holi twice, ate sweets and savories, but i wish i had gone out to some other place.

Delhi is getting hotter (the temperature still is around thirty, but you feel the sunshine and the heat). No, i am not complaining. Since it is hot, i can't go outside during the day, so the only time to go out are the evenings when i can't plan to go anywhere far.

Guess this is how the next few months will be.

It's spring here and the temperature outside is nice. It's twenty-something outside now. I have started bracing myself for the summer now. I have not experienced forty-plus temperature at all, so let's see how that goes.

The evenings are nice here. Cool and windy.

So much for the lets-do-something-on-the-weekend plan. Shopped at Chandini Chowk yesterday. Spent the day at home. Have to go out now to do some grocery shopping.

I was just wondering how open and frank i should be on my blog. I think i can go some distance.  When i came here, i thought i will find myself a guy and get hooked up and live some years in Delhi, before i move back to Bangalore. But considering the totally different lifestyles here, adapting to them and the distance away from home, i don't know.

And here i haven't seen half of Delhi's highlights and i haven't gone anywhere outside Delhi yet.

It's Friday evening and i am making plans for the weekend. I hope i can catch one/two movies on the television. And yes, i am planning to travel in Delhi, haven't decided on the places. Let's see. I still have a lot of places to visit in Delhi.

Delhi can use some common sense and manners. Seriously. Whenever somebody asks me about how i feel about Delhi, i start rambling on how people and the place should actually be. Half of the people don't have traffic sense here, they just want to put their vehicle in the minimum space available and put everybody else in a spot. So much that there is no space for a single person to walk out of the jam.
The traffic there is just stuck.

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Last week i went to the World Book Fair held in Delhi. I enjoyed children singing and browsing through books. Pragati Maidan being a huge place, i couldn't visit all the halls that were part of the fair. Also, brought a few books, to kick start reading again.

I dislike Honey Singh and his songs. I still haven't reached the 'i hate him' stage, but let's see on that. That all his songs are raunchy and describe the female as an object of desire makes him go all the way down.

And people here fancy him.

An aunt told me that i wouldn't like Old Delhi at all. And that i wouldn't step in there even with my feet fully protected in shoes.

But it's not all that bad. I go to Chikpete, Nagarathpete and Raja Market often when in Bengaluru. The surroundings there is not much different than Chandni Chowk. Narrow gullies, small shops with their merchandise pouring into the roads/paths, jostling, people bargaining, colour riots everywhere (i tend to think that we see more bright and neon shades of colours in North India than i would see in the South). I saw more of food on carts, holes-in-a wall, make-shift structures that i would see in Chikpete. And yes, more jewellery that is typical in the North which also is making roads into the southern urban spaces as well.

No, i didn't buy anything from there. Now that i think of it i should have bought something. It's far from the place where i stay, and i have to again make a trip to buy.

It's revolting to see people spit on the road in Indian cities. With the time i have spent here, i think that people in Delhi spit more than in Bengaluru. And the stains are coloured in red, as people eat pan a lot here (i don't know is this is actually true, but this is my observation).

I expected Connaught Place to be free from this, considering it's central location and it being a tourist attraction. Fat chance, really. At the bottom of those majestic-looking white pillars, we see splashes of red.

The cloudy weather here reminds me of Munich. A friend has come to Bangalore from Germany, while i am in Delhi. I was told by him that i am not even worth being lambasted by him. 

I don't want to do the 'Happy New Year' thing because, it's just another day for me. At the same time i realize it is 1st January, 2014. I wrote a different year on my notepad today, than what i used to write for the last couple of months. That's just another way of measuring time, isn't it?