New Delhi...Old Memories

'Dilli ab door nahi...' whenever the city comes to my mind, images rush, voices echo and the heart beats gives that grin which was missing for a while amidst the current chaos of life. Such was the experience of my last years of my schooling life I had spent in Delhi...the best years of my life. The ripping summers and the biting winters wherever I am reminds me of this city...lot of memories and lot of stories. It was in 1997 that I had to move to Delhi when my dad got an assignment in Saudi and that place din't actually have a school...so the only option was to send me to my maternal grandparents place.

A little history for those who dont know, I was born in Delhi on the coldest day in 60 - 70 years in on January 3rd, 1983 and llived there for a year or two before I moved to Kuwait. When we were evacuated from Kuwait in 1990-91 during the first gulf war and returned to Delhi and spent another year and a half. At this tenure, my brother was born and literally he was our ticket from Kuwait in those tough times.

In 1996-97 came this another calling, to my birthplace and this time it was to complete my schooling. The fact was that I actually dreaded to go to Delhi after a swashbuckling stint in Chennai where I established my footing as a rebellious but innocent youth...all rounder in sports and acads, got me gang of friends, and loved Chennai. The fact that I was going away from my folks and my brother...was something I wasnt prepared for...but what I dint realize was that there was more to come than what met the eye or hit the ear.

Delhi was special because it was there I had made a lot of friends...and as they say - childhood friends are always special and unique. This was one part I was looking forward to and especially going into an apartment would mean a bigger gang and a lot more fun...and fun it was. But what bothered me the most was which school I was to join! My grandfather was an amazing person to say the least...the person who taught me to be tough and live rough in the madness of Delhi where I did have a turbulent start. Amidst all of this, I realized that schools in delhi had already begun...and I was...well, a little late. Kulachi Hansraj Model School it was...in Ashok Vihar, a big school of the DAV group and a very different environment than compared to schools in Chennai...and I was up for it.

The flat in which we were staying in Sector 9 of Rohini called Gayatri Apartments was a Duplex, where I had the upper floor to myself and this got me into the style of independent style of living and thinking despite my grandparents on the floor below. This also gave me a chance to modify my room to my liking and preference...so in a way, my bachelor days of staying in a home away from home began way back in 1997. In my room the last count I had, the number of posters reached 40 on the walls only. My music collections and my taste for FM radio grew up monumentally and my slant towards Rock and Metal began at this point in time...as one can see...all the best things in life at the same point in time.

But...the first two years of my schooling is what I would term as a Life-Changing experience...and not many of my friends would know or realize as there was an internal battle with myself to be the person I wanted to be in a place that did not welcome me. Firstly, being late to class, I was always behind them all and this took me ages to come to terms with and I just did not know whom to blame or even point my finger towards. It was a steep climb and I was prepared to do it the hard way...something that my grandfather always taught me that. The only way I could overcome such obstacles was to show by performance or actions. Firstly I had to get a literal translations of all abusive words and get a feel of how speak the local style of Hindi...what was taught in the books actually cannot be spoken on the streets.

Problems had begun the school bus where I was the black sheep amidst the white wool and this prompted a lot of them towards what is now popularly known as racial slurs. Total disrespect, animosity and hatred towards my-kind and it was so visible with a mob making my stay a living hell...even going to the loo to take a leak would be a walk of fright as someone could just come from behind and pass slew remarks or even voilently intimidate. The same story continued in my classroom besides a few noble and kind souls who went on to become my best friends in the future. The only way I figured out to survive in this insane environment was to do what I was good at...at least decent at...my speech. My writing actually helped me bring a lot of mileage in my resurrection from the abyss and this proved the most powerful comeback. My ability was that I could strike a conversation with anyone of any age and at any given time. The only thing that differentiated me and gave me the upper hand was that the guys or the girls couldnt speak fluent english for nuts...and I couldnt speak Hindi fluently temporarily which I then mastered to an extent where I could speak to anyone from any Hindi region. The guys would even question their peers and ask - 'how can this Madrasi even talk like this yaar' (snippets courtesy old friends who could tap the vibe and info). Trust me, this entire initial recovery took me two years...and with the help of my mentor who was my class teacher and with whom till date, I am in touch with. Such was the courage and confidence which she instilled in me which continues to be my source of inspiration whichever new place I go to.

What my classmates also appreciated was the way I played cricket (which was a get-going-no-non-sense-hard-hitting...what could one do in a 5 over match for a start!!!) and soon I was in their team and the level of acceptance was soon touching its high...it soon peaked with winning Quiz competitions and other critical events like getting into the school student's cabinet as the Secretary which gave me more visibility into the other sections of the school and events and culturals. I would take up work like checking late comers, checking shoes and all the things I hated when I was on the other side...but ended up doing it myself! Many such small things in small doses helped me establish as a familiar faced - once bullied, roughed up Madrasi to a full fledged Delhi-ite by birth and survival. By the time I realized all of this, the most meaningful 4 years of my life had gone by and time played its part when the best part was to come...it was 2001 by then.

But some of the main highlights of those 4 years besides the school episodes were also to do with at home and with friends. Our apartments had a whole host of amazing and uniue characters and this certainly broadened my perspective towards the way people were in general and also helped me build amazing rapport with people from all age groups. We would have cricket matches between sectors or apartments, within groups in our apartments in district gardens, in our community halls where the oldies would come chasing us with their walking sticks because our racket would so loud that their BP would shoot up! We also would play cricket on the badminton court, parking lot, on the terrace, whenever the current went off, night and day, under lights, in the rain and in the bloody summers and the chilling winters...anything and anywhere for cricket. Even the elders would join us in a game or two and this would be specailly evident during festivals or holidays where the compound would be full of people for the same game...rare sight but worth every moment.

All festivals and celebrations like weddings, birthdays and anniversaries would be jointly celebrated and the dressed up boys would form their gangs and tease and pull the decked up girls and this was something we all looked forward to. Eventually we all knew each other so well that the trips used to be so much fun and loud! To my knowledge, so many stories bloomed at that time and every line worth narrating...I wouldnt risk this space for that now! Anyways, be it Holi, Diwali, Independence Day or even a normal working day, there would be something to look forward to everyday. But amidst this, is where I met my best friends, soul mates and all the little crushes I had. All of it took place in this city and it is worth scripting a story around this...fact or fiction...fact for sure to me. The worst part in that aspect was that all the realization of true friendship and first love was found at a time when I was to leave Delhi in 2001...cruel twist of fate that life has been playing with me all throughout...snatching me away from the right place at the wrong time...just when things start looking better and happier...

Life shattering experiences have also had its toll on me...in the form of the tragic loss of my grandfather mid-way in my tenure at Delhi...an accident that got me to terms with my relationship with him which was very turbulent to be honest...both extremes of love and hate...but a lot of mutual respect and honour. After his passing away, my grandmother became my responsibility...and at that age, I was in-charge of her well being and her life from there on. This test in life was one of the most toughest and the closest I would have got to being broken, battered and bruised. The last two years of my stay in Delhi were the ones that shaped me to the man I am today. It was then I realized that it could take even the ending of a life to give birth to a new...in terms of character and purpose. Another phase of Delhi which I had to deal with...without my parents aside.

But at the end of it all...I discovered a lot of things in life. I might sound like a philosopher alread but what I have seen and learnt is something which this article cannot do justice at all. The people I have met, the things I have done, discovered, the fights I have been in and stopped, scars that i have rightfully given and recieved, words that have pained and loved, love that came and went, hate that brought in compassion, victories and losses that went hand in hand, smiles and tears of the family, separation and bonding which kept me sane. Not to forget the the fun and festivity of the city, travelling in buses, autos, the long walks and window shopping in local areas and the food fest at the streets and lanes, the pollution and the bustling morning with the pegions in mass...one word - Wah!!!

One might think that four years of all of this might be a far-fetched plot to believe in...all I can say to them is that to myself, I have lived it and words may not be sufficient to even prove anyone right or wrong. To me, it is my past and will always be a reference point in any time in my life in future. Such has been the impact of Delhi and its people in my life. Since 2001, I havent had a chance to return to the land where it all once happened...to me i would like to make visit soon...and I see this like a trip to Mecca where retribution and absolution is the ultimate goal.

One day when I go back, I would love to go back to my school and my apartments (where it all happened) and look back at all the moments that changed my perspectives and meet those who touched my life and whose lives I could touch in some small way or the other. I hope they still Love me as I still do and pray that all undesirable things have been laid to rest. To me, it would be the point where life had been resurrected and a any-time-mid-point where I could look back, smile and say..."Dilli ab door nahi..."