The bottoms of my new chappals are marked with purple spots. It's jamun season, and walking around India Gate today, I couldn't avoid stepping into puddles of purple mess, as they dropped in their hundreds from the trees. Balloon and cotton candy sellers rummaged for undestroyed fruit on the pavement, and popped them in their mouths, quenching their thirst on another hot day in Delhi.
I took the bus today, from my home in good old Malviya Nagar, to visit the National Gallery of Modern Art- the NGMA- in Central Delhi. Sitting in the bus, it struck me how Delhi is full of little stories. I watched two teenagers having a mid-day smoke, a cricket coach giving a speech to his group of Sunday cricketers, a bunch of mechanics peering into the hood of a car having an argument.
Over the past few months, I've always maintained that somewhere, behind its hardened exterior, Delhi has a heart. And whenever I begin to doubt this, the city always comes through with something that gives me a little bit of hope. I have a theory, which I (almost always), put into practice every single day- treat people with humanity. Sounds corny I know, but it's amazing how in this city, this isn't something that comes easily to people. This achieves two things: firstly, it pleasantly surprises people, as noone expects to be treated with anything but aggression and secondly, makes getting by in this city just that much easier.
I walked into the NGMA today, and true to the general state of heightened security that we live in nowadays, was greeted by a screening machine for my bag. As it came out of the other side, the security person informed me that I could not take my bag inside. I politely (take my word for this) asked her why I couldn't and pointed to two foreigners who had their bags with them. She immediately rolled her eyes, raised her voice and impatiently explained to me that it was just not allowed, and that the tourists were leaving the building, which was why they had their bags with them. Watching all of this were two young men right infront of me. I explained to the young security person that I was just enquiring, and one of the young men also told her to be calm. I co-operated and gave her my bag, only to realise that I hadn't bought a ticket. By this time, the two men also had to go to the ticket counter to buy tickets. As I moved up behind them, the young man bought three tickets and casually handed over one to me, smiling. I tried my best to give him my money, but he refused. We went back in, he dropped his bag and disappeared into the museum. The security person smiled and said 'Dekho, aapka vijit free hai'.
The ticket was only 10 Rupees, so one could argue that it wasn't a big deal. One could also argue that he just wanted to buy a ticket for me to chat me up. But he didn't. As I walked out of the NGMA, and made my way home, I felt happy. It's days like these that I need to stay sane in this city.
I took the bus today, from my home in good old Malviya Nagar, to visit the National Gallery of Modern Art- the NGMA- in Central Delhi. Sitting in the bus, it struck me how Delhi is full of little stories. I watched two teenagers having a mid-day smoke, a cricket coach giving a speech to his group of Sunday cricketers, a bunch of mechanics peering into the hood of a car having an argument.
Over the past few months, I've always maintained that somewhere, behind its hardened exterior, Delhi has a heart. And whenever I begin to doubt this, the city always comes through with something that gives me a little bit of hope. I have a theory, which I (almost always), put into practice every single day- treat people with humanity. Sounds corny I know, but it's amazing how in this city, this isn't something that comes easily to people. This achieves two things: firstly, it pleasantly surprises people, as noone expects to be treated with anything but aggression and secondly, makes getting by in this city just that much easier.
I walked into the NGMA today, and true to the general state of heightened security that we live in nowadays, was greeted by a screening machine for my bag. As it came out of the other side, the security person informed me that I could not take my bag inside. I politely (take my word for this) asked her why I couldn't and pointed to two foreigners who had their bags with them. She immediately rolled her eyes, raised her voice and impatiently explained to me that it was just not allowed, and that the tourists were leaving the building, which was why they had their bags with them. Watching all of this were two young men right infront of me. I explained to the young security person that I was just enquiring, and one of the young men also told her to be calm. I co-operated and gave her my bag, only to realise that I hadn't bought a ticket. By this time, the two men also had to go to the ticket counter to buy tickets. As I moved up behind them, the young man bought three tickets and casually handed over one to me, smiling. I tried my best to give him my money, but he refused. We went back in, he dropped his bag and disappeared into the museum. The security person smiled and said 'Dekho, aapka vijit free hai'.
The ticket was only 10 Rupees, so one could argue that it wasn't a big deal. One could also argue that he just wanted to buy a ticket for me to chat me up. But he didn't. As I walked out of the NGMA, and made my way home, I felt happy. It's days like these that I need to stay sane in this city.
