Delhi Revisited
“We shall not cease from exploration
and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time….”
Misty eyes, a lump in my throat and then suppressed tears…was my spontaneous response to the sight of the elaborate dome that greeted my eyes even as the train rolled lazily into Hazrat Nizamuddin station. I do not remember this dome, this exquisite building in soft brick shades. I do not remember this lazy ambience which is a sharp contrast to the ever-alive and throbbing stations of Mumbai, my home since the past one year, and my city of mental comparison, as of now…
The last time I visited Delhi was a little more than seventeen years ago…with a happy group of friends. My memories of the time are more of my bright eyed and exuberant friends than of places one might get to see out of the window…and before that, it is again a hazy picture, so perhaps, I am seeing the city in a way for the first time…
It was a cool morning when my dad, who by careful design, had arrived an hour or so before us, greeted the kids and me at the New Delhi station. The kids were quiet and composed and happily trooped out of the train into the welcoming arms of Grandpa. My mom, who was also waiting on the platform, joined the picture and there was a sudden burst of happiness all around.
I am both glad and a little envious of my kids who seem to bond so easily with my parents, so much so that they often forget that I am around.
I am also thrilled that I will, for the next few days, not be the sole answerer of a myriad questions, president of the dining table, ensurer of baths properly taken and arbitrator of arguments that easily escalate into fistfights.
Delhi, the lovely city of my childhood memories, the place where I learnt to ride the bicycle, parrot words in Hindi, go to the best school of all the six odd schools I went to, learn to appreciate a choco-bar…was finally all around me.
I was looking forward to rediscovering places rendered hazy by time, and discovering places I had never got around to seeing in the long-ago years that I spent here.
I was ready to explore…having returned once again, at the place where the adventure called life had started in my five-year old self’s fluid memory …
and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time….”
Misty eyes, a lump in my throat and then suppressed tears…was my spontaneous response to the sight of the elaborate dome that greeted my eyes even as the train rolled lazily into Hazrat Nizamuddin station. I do not remember this dome, this exquisite building in soft brick shades. I do not remember this lazy ambience which is a sharp contrast to the ever-alive and throbbing stations of Mumbai, my home since the past one year, and my city of mental comparison, as of now…
The last time I visited Delhi was a little more than seventeen years ago…with a happy group of friends. My memories of the time are more of my bright eyed and exuberant friends than of places one might get to see out of the window…and before that, it is again a hazy picture, so perhaps, I am seeing the city in a way for the first time…
It was a cool morning when my dad, who by careful design, had arrived an hour or so before us, greeted the kids and me at the New Delhi station. The kids were quiet and composed and happily trooped out of the train into the welcoming arms of Grandpa. My mom, who was also waiting on the platform, joined the picture and there was a sudden burst of happiness all around.
I am both glad and a little envious of my kids who seem to bond so easily with my parents, so much so that they often forget that I am around.
I am also thrilled that I will, for the next few days, not be the sole answerer of a myriad questions, president of the dining table, ensurer of baths properly taken and arbitrator of arguments that easily escalate into fistfights.
Delhi, the lovely city of my childhood memories, the place where I learnt to ride the bicycle, parrot words in Hindi, go to the best school of all the six odd schools I went to, learn to appreciate a choco-bar…was finally all around me.
I was looking forward to rediscovering places rendered hazy by time, and discovering places I had never got around to seeing in the long-ago years that I spent here.
I was ready to explore…having returned once again, at the place where the adventure called life had started in my five-year old self’s fluid memory …
Comments
This post makes me want to return back and saunter through my memories of Delhi- the majestic Lutyen structures, the neat bungalows, the food!