Dehlavi

  The road to Triveni is not one I would have normally taken. But there was some magic in that moment, in that month, and in my company. It was then that I was really walking into uncharted territories, and boating through previously "untasted" waters. But I had two lovely friends, who made it all the more enjoyable. Probably the most memorable afternoon, last September.  Why do I demarcate and designate this one afternoon as separate from every other warm and sunny (read, even scorching hot) afternoons that I have spent walking alone in the Central Secretariat? Every other time, It is a personal delight for me to get down the metro, come out of the wrong gate, gaze for a while or two at the roadside dargah , and then taking a walk to my second home at Delhi, the National Museum (you never knew I am so weird, right?) These are things I have never shared with many people. But this afternoon was different. I had two dear friends; we had taken a cab (sometimes, spoilt brats...

 For me, m onsoons in Delhi have always been the most unexpected and uncalled for thing. It's pretty different from what it feels like back in my hometown. The rain drops are big, they hit the ground with a bang. But you won't get as wet if you manage to shelter yourself under a tree. And then they come in the most unexpected times, with a splash of unadulterated innocence, and some treachery in mind. I was once stuck under the generous pishtaq of the Bua Halima's gateway, along with several other tourists doing "Dilli-Darshan", amidst terrible rainfall. Again, a bout of bad rain invited me the moment I entered into the Red Fort compound, running to reach the Meena Bazar's roofed shelter. I was coming back from Tughlaqabad, after a day of tiring fieldwork under the harrowing sun, only to be welcomed by the unwelcoming rain, the moment I stepped out of the metro station into the Vishwavidyalaya Metro Station! And I never carried an umbrella in all of these, aft...