January 02, 2007
strange it will be always..delhi...where in i lived and grew up..and grown over ..although everything around me seems to know me forever...and ever..
i now am trying jerk of the hand that clasped me and made me what i am...the other day i went to see the Red fort...all these years never had i given it much attention...the darwazas..the red stone and the cold marble..doesnt seem like the delhi i hate so much..from the top of one of the mahals i watched the traffic move ... ignoring this monument..so unaware that this the witness to their past..that the river has long dried...the river that made the chowk-"chandni"...the city by the Jamuna...that which mirrored the moon on love filled nights...made the gravel feel like gravel and marble like silver...
The masjid that stands right across...the galis and the katras infested with business men..garbage and poverty...has forgotten to shower its blessing over the people who offer their respects the most..Dariba glitters on more with money than silver...parathas and jalebi only attract hungry looks from the children who stand by and sell peanuts....
Life is a peanut here...encrusted in a shiny cover called Delhi-all frogs in the well....they all believe this is the summit..the ocean...blind people ..so blind...
However i am still singing the song of my childhood...the remnants of those days..collecting them, with most cherished moments and the smiles that were not fake....and they still arent i suppose...im carrying them all...the remains of the day just calls me for one last embrace...one last eyeing and one last kiss to the smoggy sunset...
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