The love which I have for Delhi is unmatched!

There is not a single moment when you leave my thoughts. Your curves linger in my memory trying to overpower all my other thoughts, making me mad and sometimes transcending me to another world. Your heart, your pure and benign heart, is so naive that many have used it, ruined it.

I swear to your immortal beauty that I will kill them all, all those who have violated you, have dumped your mighty name and lowered your dignity in the eyes of others.

I am stubborn!! Do you know that?
My stubbornness is higher than the heavenly Himalayas, deeper than the oceans and tougher than diamond; this stubbornness makes me come back to you from any corner of the mighty universe.

I am a hopeless soul, a wandering spirit, an unending story, a story which will see its end upon your sight. Your glory shines in my eyes like food in hungry man's. You will always be that mystical thing that has captured my heart.

You are ancient, yet full of youth, exploited yet pious, despicable yet gorgeous.

Though many have betrayed you, I will worship you, will praise you. Its this distance between us that is killing me, destroying me from inside and believe me when I say this:

I will be no more if I don't get you

I love you DELHI...

The streets of Ghalib's delhi

The Streets of Ghalib's Delhi

Every time I come out of Chandni Chowk metro  station, I take the exit to the old Delhi railway station.  It’s not that I like the spoiled condition of Delhi’s roads in the vicinity of the station or the sweat clad faces of thousands of passengers just wandering by waiting for their trains to come, it’s the lives they are living or they would live while travelling that intrigues me. I envy each and every one who is entering the old fort like structure to go off to somewhere. The fort of the old station shines in my eyes like a lollipop in a child’s. I wish every time that the next time my exit from the metro station should  result in boarding a train going someplace, someplace calm, someplace where the monotony of my life doesn’t consume me.

 Anyways moving from dreams to reality, I visited Chandni chowk for the millionth time today for a   reason completely different from the one which inspired me to write this article. Chandni Chowk or should I say Old Delhi is the place that gives Delhi its identity; It would not be wrong to say that it is the heart of Delhi’s body that pumps  oxygen throughout it, making it live. It’s a hot-spot destination for all the tourists and even the fellow Indians who come to Delhi the first time and when I say ‘hot-spot’ I mean literally, the extreme levels of heat both from the atmosphere and the bodies of the people justify it. I believe that it is the mighty history attached to the place that attract even the laziest souls (like me) to wander its streets with so much enthusiasm. I feel like Mirza Ghalib every time I come here, searching for a perfect couplet to describe its beauty. Many say that Old Delhi has lost its charm since the days of the Mughals, looking at its buildings which are in ruins or the crowd which scares the hell out of any outsider. But I like these buildings and absolutely love the crowd; it’s one of the places in Delhi where the crowd acts like an attraction rather than repulsion. About the charm, it is still there, you just need to step out of your comfort zone and explore the hell out of the place covering inch by inch to discover it. 

Coming back to what I did today, I had an experience of a lifetime; I attended the light and sound show at the Red Fort. It’s a shame really that I had not heard of this show even after living my shameful existence for twenty one years in the beautiful capital. The show is a steal at sixty rupees an adult individual (Indian obviously); its aim is to give the audience a taste of Indian history, from then to now seen by the eyes of the fort itself. The show is amazing with the surround sound like nothing heard before and light mimicking marvellously each and every beat that the sound makes.  The narration beautifully blends the tale of the capital and to some it might appear as a musical of some sort.

The fort has seen things unimaginable to the eyes of the mortal; from the peak to the downfall of an era that dignified our country to be called the ‘Golden Bird’, from the reign of its creator to the mass looting from its destroyer, from the poetry of Ghalib and Zauq to the dance of the voluptuous prostitutes, the fort has witnessed everything. It is still standing as a symbol of what our country was and will continue to be for the centuries to come.  At the show’s end our National anthem was sung; never have I been this proud to sing it with my heart out.
 This ends my adventure for today and what a mighty one it was!
I would like to conclude this article by citing a couplet from the famous poet Zauq:
“kaun jae zauq par dilli ki galliyan chor kar”

Road From Hell to Salvation

                 From hell to salvation

I love the British show, Doctor Who. My ears are very sensitive to the word 'doctor'; the attraction is unlike anything I have experienced. I mean, how cool is time travel? Getting into the TARDIS ( for all you muggles out there, the tardis is the spaceship of the doctor in which he travels all around the universe ) and flying away with the most intelligent person (say Alien) is legendary. Forget about travelling to countries, continents or islands when you can travel to distant stars, galaxies or nebulas being the doctor's companion. It sure as hell brings out the geek in me. But why a sudden mention of Doctor Who? I need a beating every time I make an introduction which is not even remotely related to the content of my article. But I can have a pass this time because its Doctor Who; I couldn't resist sharing my fandom for this show. I will try though, to connect this introduction with the rest of the article.
                 
                   CHAPTER 3
I concluded my last chapter of this so called travelogue with a cold and bitter experience. After the day's disaster, while I was sleeping that night I dreamt about being one of the companions of the doctor. Yay!! My memory has aided me once again. So such a vivid description of the show is the courtesy of my dream where my subconscious was making fun ( or let say bringing relief  ) of(to)my pathetic existence. The uncertainties of the future were haunting me (haunting still) and in the doctor I sought refuge. I slept and dreamt of flying away to the lost stars while striking beautiful thought provoking conversations with the doctor. I shouldn't have been that cynical about the next day as it turned out to be exemplary. My only mistake the previous day was that I neglected the cries of my inner traveler and went along with my friends as my guide. The next day was different, I could feel it in the air as I woke up. My conscience proved to be right. I went on to travel that day's quota but this time only two friends accompanied me. Now, I believe in solo travelling but if you have companions, the lesser the merrier. We decided to travel to South Bombay this time and our first stoppage was at 'HAJI ALI DARGAH'. You can get all the information you need from the dargah's wikipedia page, I will be sharing my spiritual (well sort of) experience. Talking geography, the dargah is situated half a kilometre away from the main land. Its actually like an island situated with sea on all sides except its entrance path, of course. The journey from the main land to the dargah was a pilgrimage which I often do and enjoy. I was happy and sad at the same time; happy because at the end of my journey the dargah would unfold like a butterfly from its cocoon and sad because of all those handicapped beggers sitting on the pathway to the shrine who have  different lives with different motives. I empathise with them but cannot do anything for them right now (I will someday). Thinking about them will push me away from the thought process that I am currently in. So coming back to the mythical journey, I reached its main entrance and how splendid it was. It was an entrance to heaven if there is any. Once I entered, I paid my respects at the shrine and headed towards  an area within the dargah where a lot of people were gathered. I knew something surreal was happening there; it was a Sufi qawaali. Qawaali is a form of singing in a group which is enchanting and takes you to another dimension. Listening to a qawaali at God's house is the closest you can get to the almighty and closer I went with every verse. The singing was divine and I was uplifted from my worries for sometime into the air which was calm and peaceful. My meditation at the dargah ended after some time and I proceeded with this lifetime experience in my mind.

After the holy visit, I went to the 'Chowpatty Beach'. Now in my last article, I shared that how painful it was to spend time at the Juhu Beach; well, it was the opposite this time. The number of people were moderate and the beach was clean. Street food were available in abundance from vada pao to pav bhaji and were delicious. I spent almost five hours there just breathing in the air the wind carried from far away lands. The water was welcoming and I walked alongside it on the shore for hours. The feeling when cold water from the sea pushes your feet is indescribable. I was happy there, happy as anyone could get. There was a sense of relief which is rare in my life. I felt like Frodo baggins felt after destroying the one ring into the fires of mount doom (LOTR bitches).
My last stop was at the queen's necklace, the Marine Drive. We walked from Chowpatty to the Drive reaching there at night. It was beautiful as seen in a lot of movies. Sitting on the beach and watching the sea perform was an experience you cannot get in any theatre. I sat there and kept thinking that this feeling will end somtime. But I made a promise to myself to come back to that same spot once again and with that promise my day ended and I headed back to the college with exceptional memories floating in my head.

JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF HELL

CHAPTER 3

Don't you just love fantasy?

Well, not the kind of 'fantasy' which we all are privy to but the kind 'Tolkien' unravels in his masterpiece- "The lord of the Rings'.(LOTR)

I don't live here, in this sadistic,hypocritical, stereotypical, yet compelling world. I live in the 'Middle Earth', a land of Tolkien's imagination, a land where folks live peacefully, discrimination is unknown of and when evil comes all fight together instead of blaming and cutting each others throats.

This is all I have been thinking lately, a different world with different people having different agendas. Even though my LOTR trance is not over I would like to come back to the 'real' world. I cannot forget my time in BOMBAY, even though it is the last day of the world and a new world in beginning. 

So here I am, late again, apologetic again wondering whether my guilt has changed again to a nonchalant attitude which makes me this lazy procrastinator, this self absorbed narcissist(I went far, didn't I?) who prefers bed to pen.

I write when I have to, when deadlines start to fuck me over, in every position imaginable. I write when I wait, wait for someone's message, someone's acquaintance, someone's apology or someone's approval. It proves that actually I am the worst writer in the history of writing whose muse is waiting. But looking at it optimistically, I do have a muse which will not fade away with time(waiting is constant, you have to wait for something no matter what all your life). My muse is robust, its adamant for not leaving me. 

My my,How lucky am I?

Writing is like switching thoughts. The switching process is not very efficient though; I have wasted a lot of thinking power on this chapter's introduction and the main act is yet to begin. I still have some energy left and before It converts to some other form (energy is conserved; that's right, PHYSICS bitches) let's begin.

A JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF HELL

I need to be reminded every time that where am I.  

Oh yes!! I had reached the paradise city, was well accommodated and was ready to fly like a bird. The first day in BOMBAY was 'dull' ( and believe me 'dull' is the nicest word that I can come up with). Instead of listening to my inner traveler, I visited some of the most cliched places Bombay is known for. Take for instance THE JUHU BEACH, we all(Indians) have been hearing about this beach since our childhood seeing all those bollywood( that's the name of our film industry) movies. But it is a shitty place. Believe me when I say that Delhi's metro is less crowded than that damn beach( and I am talking about working hours here). For people managing the beach, cleanliness is a myth. I went there to ease my mind, clear my thoughts; I mean that's what beaches are for, right?

But what I experienced was the polar opposite. With so many people shouting and screaming it was like some fucking concert was going on, not a good concert mind you but a concert where all music is messed up and noise is considered to be its ultimate scale. I tried to leave but could not leave my friends alone, that much courtesy I do have(even if narcissism is predominant, as all say).

I eventually left and HOLY SHIT! was I relieved. Below is the beach's photo at its peak visiting time. Now you know what I was talking about.

After that beach debacle, a friend suggested to visit BANDSTAND. For all of those who don't know, Bandstand is like a nirvana for lovers. Couples from all over the city come here to share their 'love', to make lifelong promises and above all to show how uncomfortable PDA(Public display of affection) actually is. I mean that is the last place a single guy would want to go. I completely lost it there, seeing all those couples getting cozy made me disheartened. My spirit died and I became a character from THE WALKING DEAD, a blood sucking zombie looking at the normal people(people with girls, obviously)with eyes that would scare Hitler. I departed from there before mental breakdown could take over. But before leaving I did see SHAH RUKH KHAN's home. Now SRK is this super famous actor of Bollywood. His house is magnificent and it gave me one thing that I needed the most that time, ambition. I revived and came back to the college where I was staying, with a hope that the next day will be different(good different, I mean) and at that moment the explorer inside me had awoken and stood guard all night while I was sleeping to scare away all those disturbing thoughts of the day's travel.

From heaven to heaven!!

                         CHAPTER 2

I have a justified reason this time for not being regular on my blog. Currently I have been reading The lord of the rings,  and I am so engrossed in the epic that nothing interests me more than to read more. Still I have written yet another chapter to take a break from all the excessive reading.

Here it goes....

FROM HEAVEN TO HEAVEN!!!

I am a Delhi fanboy. Being in Delhi all my life has created a faith towards it which is unbreakable. I will never cheat on it with another city; Delhi has captured my heart in a golden cage, a cage that creates a sense of colonisation yet it is attractive and glamorous. I am bonded but the cage seems to satisfy my quench for everything. So going out(or should I say breaking out) was redundant; Till now.

So where was I? I had boarded for Mumbai and was on my way to salvation. The events which took place while on the train are not worth mentioning because its the same old tale with an addition; SUPER BOREDOM!
While in the train your options are limited you can't just wander off to take a pleasant walk to relieve yourself of the boredom or stress unless you are ready to see the faces of the poor souls, some sitting on the train's floor. Going to the loo isn't fun either ( my fellow Indians can relate to that ). However there is one thing that I can mention here.

For passing my time I had a couple of lonely planet magazines along with my voice and a guitar( apparently I sing! ). So  while I was shuffling thorough the articles on travelling to some erotic cities and singing my heart out, I got acquainted with a guy. He was a Mumbaikar ( the folks in Mumbai like to call themselves that ) and was travelling back home from Delhi. We talked a lot( in a completely heterosexual way ), he made additions to my iternaryaand told me about some of the ' hot N cool' places of Bombay. He is a musician himself and a student of arts which are both in favour of labeling the guy as cool( for an engineering graduate like myself the crieterias for coolness are rather queer ).

As a result my journey became less painful and after sixteen hours of torture I finally set foot on an alien soil. I left the train with joy and this the point where the adventure finally began!

But before rushing to check the first item in my itenary I needed some rest. So I rushed to the college's campus where my accommodation was arranged, had some sleep and then took off like a young baby bird who has just learned to fly.

CHAPTER 1(of the travelogue)

CHAPTER 1

The time to unveil the cloak from my reminiscences has arrived. Its not as exciting as the unveiling the new I Phone, but it is sure as hell intriguing.. I went to the city of dreams, the 'mayanagri' of the Indian subcontinent, to BOMBAY(I like to call the city from its old name, it has got a charm in it). I am from Delhi, so from all the great places accessible nearby why did I choose BOMBAY? Was it the glamour that attracted me or was it the people? Was it the idea of meeting a superstar that drived my craze or was  it the never sleeping immortal sea? The answer; Well, none of these!

See, for a student like myself with no source of income whatsoever, travelling is a luxury found often in dreams with a 'spirit'(of any kind) acting as a catalyst. I needed a very strong reason to convince my parents to spend their hard earned dime for my luxurious(as they like to call it) obsession. Fortunately, one of the colleges in BOMBAY was having its annual fest and our college was participating. That was my pass. A College TRIP!!

My parents reluctantly agreed to send me abroad(any distance outside 100km radius from my home is abroad to them!). I cried, cried with joy and my excitement bore no levels. Such was my enthusiasm the previous night that I hardly slept and was busy revisiting the depths of my mind where my ITENARY was carefully stored. Finally, the auspicious day came but it started with an inauspicious note.

The train which I had to board was delayed by five hours. Living in my country for two decades now, I had adapted myself with the condition of our railways(India has the largest railway network; what an irony) but my elation the night before got the better of my awareness and as a result there I was, standing alone on a deserted platform holding my luggage in the same way as a four year hold holds his toys. But time passed; I listened to each and every song on my playlist, read some pages of a novel I was carrying and went thrice to the inquiry counter to 'fry' their heads with the same question over and over again, "Is there any more delay to the train?". The wait was fruitful. My train arrived and I left Delhi with fireworks laden all across my eyes, fireworks of celebration, of uncertainty and most of all ,of hope that this trip will change me if little

A TRAVELOGUE

A TRAVELOGUE

Wow!!

I have lived up to my reputation to be the greatest procrastinator the world has ever seen. I have broken all my holy vows to blogging by not writing on a regular basis. 

This will not do.

 I need a bashing from someone else or at least an outbreak of emotions to bring me back in line(read form). What I need is a series of abusing, of constant reminding that how big an asshole am I. I made a promise to myself in my last post that "This time I will write sincerely" and I have broken that promise. I can't keep promises even to myself. I just realized that, this is reason why relationships never work for me. How can I keep someone's promises when I don't know how to keep mine.

Enough of moaning!!

Lets get back to business.( and I hope this time my business doesn't shut down for a long time; Lets say NEVER)

One if the reasons I skipped writing for such a long time is that I have been traveling a lot and after settling down it's time to acknowledge my travels. I will be writing this travelogue in parts because 'Lets face it', I am a terrible writer.

Let the games begin.......

                                                     

    PROLOGUE

Why doesn't our lives have an incognito mode?

Just like the modern browsers!

Doing what we like, privately,hidden away from the eyes of other people with no record of our history whatsoever. But life is complicated, that is what i have been hearing till now. So i tried to uncomplicate it by going incognito.  For a change i did something for myself, something i really like, something that gives me a sense of satisfaction only a few can give ( So talking about the incognito mode was a natural thought, you know what i mean!)

Coming back to what i did; i travelled. I travelled to an unknown city filled with unknown people to fulfill unknown aspirations. Living in one place all your life induces a sense of bondage( well atleast for me, it does) , life is mundane, it's predictable. Travelling is one of the ways to break free, or should i say "to spice things up".

Coming to the point ( which i seldom do), i took a leave from my "normal happy life" and took a blasphamous route by doing something against normal regulations.

I traveled my heart out.