Geographies of belongingness....

“Where are you from? “ That’s exactly the third question I have been subjected to for the last three whole years. The first two being my name and what do I do. This is where it all started, the realization that I belong to a place, I have an ethnicity and all that becomes a part of my identity.

“ I am from Delhi “ I would respond as a matter of fact. “Originally from Delhi?” came the next obvious one. “Born and brought up there” I would give another factual statement trying to understand the questioner’s doubt.

What followed next is what initiated that trail of feelings. A look, look which had various expressions in it . A look of judgment, a look of pre conceived notions shouting “oh she is gonna be like this “, a look of admiration, a look of intimidation saying “here comes the outgoing city girl who just knows to party and fool people.” And then the conversation would just revolve around the same.

This got stronger with every little experience. Experience of my own friends when they went on “ These people from metros, you see …” casting them as some soulless creatures of selfishness having no value system in place. Experiences of a fellow schoolmate of mine who also shared masters with me on being dumped after months of courtship. The reasons: her caste and city of origin. Everyday she would cry saying what’s my fault in it and point out how the guy’s mother would say “ dilli ki ladkiyan humare ghar mein nahin chalengi” projecting her as another modern bitch. Wolla !! And I used to think that this happens only at 9 o’clock on star plus!!!! And believe it or not my fella friend actually felt low and helpless about being from where she was. It all became worse when in all discussions with my friends, being a person from not such a bigger place became a characteristic of perfect woman or a perfect human.

With each day and every experience I just wanted to belong more to the place, the city, the culture, which I never realized, I was from ever before. What I felt was simple “Executed without trial.” I wanted to get back, back where now I claimed I belong and was my hometown.

And I did, I did come back leaving everything and all opportunities behind with my obstinate reasons. Came back with the feeling that now I would never crib and enjoy it to the fullest. But then it again seemed changing. Here I was reading the book [Adigga’s white tiger] with Delhi as its background and watching Delhi 6 the same day. Yes my dear titan friend I finally did watch this movie!

There were new sets of realization now. Why couldn’t I relate to either of them? Why did I disagree with almost all point of views and said “This is not Delhi”. Why was I imagining the places in the background when I should know exactly how the background and people’s description should be?

Here is where I got to thinking, what is a city and how it becomes that important. To be more precise what is Delhi and how did it become that important.” What describes the city to me? “
Is it that Old Delhi which every moviemaker wants to depict, the Jama Masjid, the Chandni Chowk , rickety roads and culture of old Delhi. Then I would say alas! All these places are as much new to me as much to a person who visits the city the first time. I have never seen them. With this I also remember the youngest classmate of mine shrieking in a movie theatre “You are not worth calling from Delhi, Go back and visit Chandni Chowk at least once”.

Is it the bureaucracy that defines the national capital? The politicians, the parliament, the Rashtrapati Bhawan , the north and south block . C’mon I just hate the fact that they exist here and block the roads on and off.

Is it being a city of monuments? Then how many of us who did not come as tourists really witnessed Qutanb Minar , Red fort , Old fort or Humayu’s tomb. I still have to really take a look at them in spite of passing through them umpteen number of times.

Is it the food? But then Mc Donalds and Dominoes have nothing to do with this place. Neither have street momos or greasy Chinese. It must be the Paranthawala galli but then who wants to go there? How relieved I was to know that I ain’t the only one when my pakka dilli friend said “Obnoxious that place is and makes you feel ill”. I was not the only one I sighed.

You may say I am like any other young urban bonafide city girl who hunts restaurants, malls, skyscrapers and clubs .So here it goes, except for the air conditioners to avoid heat, there is nothing that I can appreciate about the select city’s and metropolitans. The skyscrapers are just not my taste and I often refer to Gurgaon as a concrete jungle. Delhi may be a shopper’s paradise to some but for me it’s the same old tried trusted brands and shops that work and that too only twice a year. I don’t even regret if the number comes down to one. And to share a secret with my clubbing fans, “Elevate” and “sound of music” still remain unexplored for me.

Then is it people I get to thinking. Then why do I laugh when anyone behaves too loud? Why do hear my friend saying “ They just go me, I, my ” when I see anyone bragging. And above all why do I look with disdain at the ostentatious display in the big fat wedding. Oh don’t get me wrong, I found the closest and the most genuine friendship and people in this city only but know that there are few.

Then what is it between Delhi and me I pondered and asked my proudtobeindian friend to define the city. After being” home sweet home” he quipped “A metropolis with big/wide roads that looks so green from top.”

And here I came back home in the much famous Delhi metro realizing I am no Delhite, no Punjabi, no north Indian, no city girl, no urbanite but just a home bird. Execute me if you want to but I would love to freeze in Antartica in my house if there could be one.