Everything that I complained about while being in Delhi I now worship. The annoying traffic jams for no reason (especially the 'gridlocks' that occur out of nowhere), the incessant breaking of traffic rules by everyone, the curfew imposed on me by my folks, the constant involvement of my family in my life, the horrible weather,
In the end, Delhi is where my home is, where my family is, where my special someone is, where my heart will always be. I may be an anomaly of nature, for I am not one who has taken to the cosmopolitan, corporate Mumbai. Friends and family told me I'd love it here. But for me there was nothing here that I didn't have.
Freedom is something many people yearn for. One usually experiences it when they move out of home and move into hostel. But there still lies a protected environment, in whatever small form. Once you begin to work and begin to earn one's keep, financial freedom, is a feeling which is mind-numbing to say the very least. No more scrimping and scrounging on the pocket money which was just never enough. But it goes beyond money too. There is the freedom to be out at whatever time you want to, to eat pizza for dinner every damn day without someone breathing down your neck telling you to eat dal-chawal, to invite any number of friends over whenever you want to, to buy that expensive pair of shoes that you just had to have, to pack your bags and leave on a mini-vacation without giving a thousand explanations and reasons.
But today I realise that what my parents said was so true. There was nothing that I was deprived of. I had all the freedom you could imagine. What restrictions were imposed on me were because they cared. In fact, a small civil discussion with them often ended up with me getting my way, whether it was a late-night curfew or a raise in my allowance.
I don't associate freedom with Mumbai. I associate suffocation. From the tiny roads overflowing with vehicles, to the murky water of the sea, to the travelling in the local trains with barely any space to breathe, to the basic absence of footpaths, to the tiny houses (I mean, apartments!), I fail to see how someone can grow to love this place so much. Either I haven't given myself enough time to like this city, or maybe I just happened to see the negative side of it. Whatever it may be, my home is where my heart will always be.
In the end, Delhi is where my home is, where my family is, where my special someone is, where my heart will always be. I may be an anomaly of nature, for I am not one who has taken to the cosmopolitan, corporate Mumbai. Friends and family told me I'd love it here. But for me there was nothing here that I didn't have.
Freedom is something many people yearn for. One usually experiences it when they move out of home and move into hostel. But there still lies a protected environment, in whatever small form. Once you begin to work and begin to earn one's keep, financial freedom, is a feeling which is mind-numbing to say the very least. No more scrimping and scrounging on the pocket money which was just never enough. But it goes beyond money too. There is the freedom to be out at whatever time you want to, to eat pizza for dinner every damn day without someone breathing down your neck telling you to eat dal-chawal, to invite any number of friends over whenever you want to, to buy that expensive pair of shoes that you just had to have, to pack your bags and leave on a mini-vacation without giving a thousand explanations and reasons.
But today I realise that what my parents said was so true. There was nothing that I was deprived of. I had all the freedom you could imagine. What restrictions were imposed on me were because they cared. In fact, a small civil discussion with them often ended up with me getting my way, whether it was a late-night curfew or a raise in my allowance.
I don't associate freedom with Mumbai. I associate suffocation. From the tiny roads overflowing with vehicles, to the murky water of the sea, to the travelling in the local trains with barely any space to breathe, to the basic absence of footpaths, to the tiny houses (I mean, apartments!), I fail to see how someone can grow to love this place so much. Either I haven't given myself enough time to like this city, or maybe I just happened to see the negative side of it. Whatever it may be, my home is where my heart will always be.
2 comments:
give this place a l'il time, miss .. it'll grow on you .. like it did on me - for someone who lived every moment in thoughts of delhi, it took 2 years to fall in love with this "godforsaken" place, so much so that i don't want to go back to delhi now :)
I agree...
there's no life here..
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