Written this past summer
My brother leaves Delhi to return to college tonight, and this evening, my very talkative, carefree, chilled out brother sat quietly in the living room with the rest of us. He wouldn’t tell us what was bothering him, or even that anything was, but seeing him like that took me back to the four years that I spent shuttling back and forth between Delhi and America. I still remember the feeling I would get in the pit of stomach for those few hours leading up to my departure. It wasn’t an indicator of disliking college, but merely an indicator of how much I liked Delhi, and how much I disliked the upheaval of leaving it. And today, for the first time, I saw it in my brother.
There’s a certain power that Delhi has that captivates us all and keeps bringing us back for more. We all love to hate it – we complain about the traffic, that terrible heat, the incestuous nature of our social circles – but we love it even more than that. There’s a charm to Delhi that we overlook in our daily lives. It’s easiest to notice during those magical months of October and November, when the weather is easing into pleasant but hasn’t quite reached the harshness of winter yet, festivities and lights are on the streets and in the air with the delicious anticipation of Diwali, and the wedding season is just beginning. It’s the nicest season to be in Delhi and time I pined for Delhi the most for the years that I was away.
There’s so much to the Delectable Delhi – from the narrow alleys of Chandni Chowk and majestic awe of Humanyun’s Tomb to the cold efficiency of the metro; from the staples of gol guppas and jalebis to Western tastes of Big Chill.
I’ve always felt a pull towards Delhi, perhaps because I associate with it the immense consistency of the same house, same school, and same set of friends for pretty much most of my life. It has been the only place where I have felt at home, the place that has given me the comfort and luxury of growing into my own, the place that introduced me to the friends I have today – friends that I know will be in my life for a very long time. It’s the reason I chose not to work in America after college, and it’s the reason the thought of going away for grad school sends me into the tailspin of an existential crisis.
Delhi has been as inherent in making me me as have my family and school. And as my brother gets ready to leave Delhi, it gratifies me to see that he feels the exact same way.
Photo credit: Julia Tsang, from her recent trip to Delhi