Why do we hate some cities? Why do we love some? I struggle with this question every time I come to delhi.
For a person born and brought up in delhi, I ought to have some really pleasant memories of it. It should remind me of my playful childhood, my good schooling and my childhood friends. It should feel like a homecoming. But it does not.
Every time I come to delhi, I think that maybe this time I would really love it. But I dont. Two days in the city and I want to run away. Back from where I came.
No, it is not some bad childhood memories which haunt me. I was an ordinary kid. I had ordinary parents and an ordinary childhood - full of love and care and everything that is human. I loved school too and had a blast. But still....
I think there is a place we are born in. A place where we physically come into this world. And then there is a place where are born again. Where we realize who we are. It is like the stone discovering that there is a sculpture inside. A place where we begin to knock off this piece, chip off that block, where we sometimes get hammered into shape to see who we really are.
For some people, it happens to be the same city. For me, it was Delhi where I put on the inches to my height and Mumbai where I learnt to grow. I feel like blaming the city for not allowing me the right air which would have nurtured my spirit. I came across people who happened to be insensitive and cold, who judged me constantly by how I looked than what I really was capable of and who had little respect for my need to be quiet and on my own. It was a place where you had to “fit” or you are not left alone. For me, the place had turned as cold as the frosty winds that sailed through its streets in winter. It just never warmed up.
No, it is not delhi’s fault. I do not match what it takes to enjoy the city. I think it is for the braver-hearted. For those who can stand the aggression and learn to blast their way through life. As far as I am concerned, I prefer a gentler place, a place where my need to be alone is respected and I dont have to fight for it. Maybe a place where I can change the stone that nature gives me into a putty and merrily twist it into shapes to reveal who I am.
Yes, that must be why...that must be why.
For a person born and brought up in delhi, I ought to have some really pleasant memories of it. It should remind me of my playful childhood, my good schooling and my childhood friends. It should feel like a homecoming. But it does not.
Every time I come to delhi, I think that maybe this time I would really love it. But I dont. Two days in the city and I want to run away. Back from where I came.
No, it is not some bad childhood memories which haunt me. I was an ordinary kid. I had ordinary parents and an ordinary childhood - full of love and care and everything that is human. I loved school too and had a blast. But still....
I think there is a place we are born in. A place where we physically come into this world. And then there is a place where are born again. Where we realize who we are. It is like the stone discovering that there is a sculpture inside. A place where we begin to knock off this piece, chip off that block, where we sometimes get hammered into shape to see who we really are.
For some people, it happens to be the same city. For me, it was Delhi where I put on the inches to my height and Mumbai where I learnt to grow. I feel like blaming the city for not allowing me the right air which would have nurtured my spirit. I came across people who happened to be insensitive and cold, who judged me constantly by how I looked than what I really was capable of and who had little respect for my need to be quiet and on my own. It was a place where you had to “fit” or you are not left alone. For me, the place had turned as cold as the frosty winds that sailed through its streets in winter. It just never warmed up.
No, it is not delhi’s fault. I do not match what it takes to enjoy the city. I think it is for the braver-hearted. For those who can stand the aggression and learn to blast their way through life. As far as I am concerned, I prefer a gentler place, a place where my need to be alone is respected and I dont have to fight for it. Maybe a place where I can change the stone that nature gives me into a putty and merrily twist it into shapes to reveal who I am.
Yes, that must be why...that must be why.
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