Returning to the City of Djinns after 8 years, I came back with a lot of hopes, and bags of expectations. My friends in Mumbai warned about Delhi being soulless but I scoffed at them. I remembered with fondness my youthful days- the radical will to challenge, supported by my amazing faculty at LSR, the dreams of yonder years and I couldn't wait to leave behind the unending grind that is the Mumbai-based life. Yet, two months after, the rose-tinted glasses are off and I realised that the city is just as its rain- all thunder and no storm...
The first thing that hit me was the scorching heat of the city- unforgiving, relentless, merciless-much like the people, cruel-without-need, merciless-without-limit; chipping away at the humanity of the soul, scratching away till only the bone is exposed and then gnawing at it like the rabid dog driven senseless by the heat! The city which is the capital of the country reflects the increasing inhumane spirit the country is descending into. We, the decedents of Chanakya, Ashoka, Kabir and Buddha seemed to have lost our way in the world. From the spiritual to the materialistic, from the simple to the hyper-complex, from the soul to the flesh... I had hoped that with the rains, the strong winds would clean us of all that weigh us down, but instead, Delhi rains disappoint, giving us a glimpse of what can be, but never cleansing. The heat always returns, and it highlights the harsh realities of the world around us.
Delhi meri jaan...How many of us have heard this? But where is the soul? The first showers in the city might wash away the day, but it always returns... Climbing out of the drains, the wind sweeping it up and challenging us with it, slapping us ion the face with it. But we just cover out faces, and keep going- each protecting oneself, uncaring of the person next to him/her. The fight for a metro seat, the haggling over the vegetables, the quick steps walk away even as a girl screams for help pierces the air is the norm. No one remembers the poor farmer in the air condition of the mall, no one remembers the old in the tight fit of the metro, no one remembers the lost innocence in the face of self-security.
Political disenchantment, stormy protests and accusations and the hunt for influence mark the streets of this seat pf power. But empowerment of the voiceless, equality, security of the weak is missing. The affluence dazzles, the political clout intimidates but warmth of a city that embraces is missing, idealism is squashes, individuality is mocked. I know times are changing, and you are either pro-government or anti-national, but I believe that never before has there been a bigger threat to the basic fabric of humanity and Delhi manages to epitomize that impending threat.
But, I believe that with each new season, the fight returns...Winters freezes the spread, spring brings new hope and with it the chance of growth and change. And therein lies the strength of the human race, the ability for change, to learn from our mistakes, to accept our mistakes, and with this hope I wait for the city to revive itself- to shed the rot and to embrace all we can have and all that we can be.
The first thing that hit me was the scorching heat of the city- unforgiving, relentless, merciless-much like the people, cruel-without-need, merciless-without-limit; chipping away at the humanity of the soul, scratching away till only the bone is exposed and then gnawing at it like the rabid dog driven senseless by the heat! The city which is the capital of the country reflects the increasing inhumane spirit the country is descending into. We, the decedents of Chanakya, Ashoka, Kabir and Buddha seemed to have lost our way in the world. From the spiritual to the materialistic, from the simple to the hyper-complex, from the soul to the flesh... I had hoped that with the rains, the strong winds would clean us of all that weigh us down, but instead, Delhi rains disappoint, giving us a glimpse of what can be, but never cleansing. The heat always returns, and it highlights the harsh realities of the world around us. 
But, I believe that with each new season, the fight returns...Winters freezes the spread, spring brings new hope and with it the chance of growth and change. And therein lies the strength of the human race, the ability for change, to learn from our mistakes, to accept our mistakes, and with this hope I wait for the city to revive itself- to shed the rot and to embrace all we can have and all that we can be.
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