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ABC of Being a Delhiite – Part I

January 12, 2015 Dilli 6

You may be doing a great job while sitting kilometres away from Delhi, but actually being here in the heart of it and inhaling in this air just sows a Delhiness in you.

You just BECOME so much a Delhiite (not sure it’s good or bad though). Blame the cultural mashup it is, or the ease of being oneself, it’s just a comfortable city to live in. So warm, so welcoming, and so effing cool at that!

We have come up with A to Zee of a Delhiite’s life, and trust us, it’s not easy being one. The first half is here for you to read…


A is for Autobhaiyyas…


Like them, dislike them, or completely discard who they are, but you can never discard what they do for you. They are Dilli ke Autobhaiyyas, they’ve got what it takes to get you pleading. They’ve got “government-aided meters” that are seriously tampered with.

And if you tell your destination and they drive away without a trace of expression on their face, just decode they don’t want to go. What swag an Autobhaiyya has! More demanding than a saasu-maa. Costlier than a cruise to Singapore. Brasher than Rakhi Sawant on being asked about her boob-job.


B is for Big Chill…


If you love authentic Italian food, or want some decent ice cream, you have all the reasons to love the Big Chill Cafe, one of the coolest hangout zones in Delhi. It goes without saying that the best reunions and get-togethers happen in Big Chill.

And we automatically assume that the better we dress up for it, the better food we are served there (not that they have any such guidelines jotted down). So yes, while you’re at Big Chill, there’s big hotness doing rounds around. *Wink*Wink*


C is for Chandni Chowk…


Why deny, Dilli-6 has surely got its own old-world charm! Every para, word, comma and every effing space in Gulzar’s lyrics takes me to Chandni Chowk and creates this Purani Dilli for me to experience and relish.

Chandni Chowk is like a world within the world that Delhi is, and the intense photographers that we are, we click it all. Starting from the finger-licking tasty paranthas and the big-fat-wedding bridal lehengas, to our very own made-in-Dilli “Kolhapuri” chappals, what’s not to click in Chandni Chowk!


D is for Daaru…


No matter where you are, who you’re with, and what kind of a day you’ve had, if you’re in Dilli, Daaru is ALWAYS THE BEST CLOSURE you can get. A few drinks down, our celebrations and our sorrows kinda get blended or something.

All in all, we just fail to take note of what took us to the “theka” that sells Bhayankar Thandi Beer. But whatever it is, everything just begins to make sense when there is a little (actually a lot of) alcohol in our veins.


E is for Emporio Poshness…


You don’t have to struggle a lot to spot this ‘E’ in Connaught Place. The moment you begin treading closer to the Hanuman Mandir, there will be HORDES of women flaunting their Emporio Poshness with a dozen handbags of Kanjeevaram, Banarasi silk and Bhagalpuri cotton sarees in each hand.

The sleek-slender young moms getting out of their Verna, or the middle-aged aunties in their chauffeur-driven Alto, this E-factor brings them all on the same page.


F is for Farmhouse Parties…


So what do you do when you are in Delhi and haven’t had any time to plan the weekend outings? You pretend being bored to death and PICK A RANDOM INVITATION CARD from the big stack above the old discarded newspapers kept in a forgotten corner of your home. And yay! A farmhouse party it is!

Really, it is that easy “gatecrashing” a farmhouse party in Delhi. Weddings, receptions, baby showers, pool parties are just about ALWAYS happening in the outskirts of Delhi.


G is for Gurgaon…


We may call it NCR, but looking at the status it holds in the hearts of working Delhiites, Gurgaon is very well our home. We spend 5 days of our week in Gurgaon working our asses off. The other 2 days, we drink our asses off at Gurgaon’s 24X7 thekas offering cheaper alcohol and lesser checkposts. (We severely unapprove of drunken driving though.)

If nothing else, just shopping there does the needful. There’s nothing like too much Gurgaon.


H is for Hauz Khas village…


Hauz Khas is the smaller, younger parallel of what Gurgaon is for the working class. Yes, if you are a college-goer with lesser time and need some more privacy than what Gurgaon has to offer, Hauz Khas is your adda. Eat, drink, chat, and have a jolly good time with your friends.

And once you are through with partying in HK, you can move to Gurgaon for a follow-up party. Arey, Dilli hai yaar. Who wastes the weekends sleeping here!


I is for India Gate…


We guffaw the loudest when a certain Baba claims to cure Cancer with just Yoga. We also scrunch our noses when moms promise to fix the pains with haldi wala doodh. Our Indianness isn’t very evident.

But India Gate brings out the patriotism in us. It’s beyond the chuski, bhutta and sunday picnics with family. And though we may not do the typical Rang De Basanti salute, we do click a pic holding India Gate from the tip, and post on Facebook.

And that’s just about the same thing. Period.


J is for Jugaad…


Everybody in Delhi is either PM’s distant cousin, or has had a few drinks with an MLA or shaken hands with some area’s S.H.O. And mind you, both are good enough to bring a preferred spot.

Really, if you want to get your nobody-would-want-such-scumbag-loser kids admitted in a high-rated school, or want a cleaner hospital bed for your never-replies-to-a-Namaste-while-still-in-neighbourhood Uncle ji, just name a sarkari mulazim, and watch it happen smooth like butter. Such jugaads always work in Delhi.


K is for Kebabs…


Nothing, NOTHING can beat the love we hold for food. We have borne the brunt of Mughals ruling us for such long years, and dealt with their tyranny raising neither an eyebrow, nor our voice. I ask you, what for? What good is it if we can’t even bank upon their Mughlai food!

No questions asked, no justifications needed. Barbeque nation it is, I need some weekend splurge! Enough said. Hello? Green chatni zyada chahiye.


L is for Loud Aunties…


Park your car wrong. Talk loudly on a call. Giggle while reading an SMS. Shrink yourself when in a crowded Metro. Or touch your hair too often. There will be “those damn eyes” staring at you, from somewhere. They will spot you, and they will strip you of your mental peace.

Because Delhi aunties haven’t evolved to the levels of knowing where to burst.

They will just find reasons (or cook something up), but they won’t let you get home unless you have apologised. Errr… for being in Delhi.


M is for Madarch*d-Behench*d…


One random morning, while still stretching in our beds, we just knew we could watch English movies without keeping a Dictionary handy. Since then, Bro-Babe-Bitch-Bastard have expressed our deepest concerns.

Add to it our made-up accent, which makes us more socially acceptable.

But heavens know if I’m lying, NOTHING does more justice to a Delhiite’s anger than the Hindi terminology. Apart from MC-BC, we have even gone to the lengths of inventing our “own” gaalis. What would “G**nd ka andha” logically mean anyway!

Sorry, right now this experience is not available at this screen resolution.