‘Insanely special’ is not a coincidental combination of words. It is as exclusive a coinage as the people it is being used for here – the dilliwalahs. If I was to ask you to draw a picture of a person from Delhi, chances are you will either fall short of colours in your crayon box, or you will fail to depict the maddening energy that those from Delhi enjoy. Even words may not do justice to this special “tribe”– which knows the right mix of culture, curry and creativity to make their everyday life extraordinary. But we can try, can’t we?
Dressing
Delhi always looks like a million dollars, and it knows the art of not spending a dime to dress itself such. The regional heterogeneity in its dressing sense is what makes it a ‘melting pot’ of, well, costumes! Cross the Yamuna and you shall see resplendent sequinned saris and fashion jewellery that would have put Jodha Bai’s to shame with its shine, if not the cost. Come West and the story continues, albeit with greater proportion of everything, the money spent and the glamour gained, both. The gota-zari dupattas of women and silken turbans of men express a royalty that deserves the BMW’s cushy seat they move in. South is a different story. Fab silk saris with leaves and worli and all things traditional, jewellery called junk but costing a whole junk-yard’s resale value and over-used kohl pencil is not uncommon. The English-speaking sophistication and the arty-ology is something that most South dilliwalahs reflect. Perhaps, going North wards will not be much different from how the rest of Delhi is clad – in all its glory – whether with royally deep pockets or deeply royal thinking it matters not! If this unity in dressing diversity is not insanely special, then what is?
Driving
Driving
What do you mean by thinking that driving in Delhi no longer begins with the letter ‘D’? I understand that rash and road rage both with an ‘R’ but that does not mean the letter ‘D’ has been silenced (or run over). With such distances to cover who has the time to use the brakes, I ask? And do you think a South Delhi Merc or a West Delhi Lamborghini was meant to be driven at turtle speed? Or that crossing a whole river to leave the East behind can happen at snail’s pace? A dilliwalah knows what it takes to save time on the road, and save his life in the mean time too. Why else do you think cars have Hanumans hanging on the rear view mirrors or little red bow-and-arrows stuck to the motor cycles’ speedometers? God is great, and so is the speed that he moves in, or so I gather looking at that jet driving past me at 80 km/hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic with the little God stuck to the dashboard holding on for his dear life. Insanely special – this faith in one’s reflexes as well as faith in God’s protective hands, both! Oh, and it’s not ‘right of way’ but ‘Right ho, vey!’ If you have heard that, you have not been driving the Delhi way!
Partying and Celebrating
Partying and Celebrating
Dilliwalahs do not eat to live, they live to eat and drink, and eat a little more, and drink so much more if it’s on the house. Dining out is not just reserved for special days like birthdays and karva chauth dinners, but just about any day you fancy a certain cuisine – be it Punjabi Chinese, eat-all-you-can Rajasthani thali, or stuffed anything as long as it just got out of the tandoor. The younger lot can pub-hop and skip and then jump after it’s all over, which is what a little boy on a bankrupt high can do. The older ones go to insane levels of culinary patience by standing in queues (which do not work in a linear fashion like queues everywhere else) for dipping dosas in sambhar and with a little tomato ketchup on the side, why not! You cannot expect a dilliwalah to pass by a golgappa-filled stranger’s mouth without wanting to pop 10-ka-4 himself too. Where’s the party yaar? Does not matter, not always! But when there is a party, you can rest assured it will be both insane and special. They dance like their life depends on it, and they get married like it’s the end of the world the next day. Car-o-Bars inspiring Prabhu Deva in baraats and note-d showers. Lit up palm trees in wedding pandals as big as Ramlila maidans and a million calories to eat in return for the 1100 in the shagan lifafa. Without butter chicken no life. Without glitter no wife. Insanely special or especially insane? Hic! Who cares!
If dilliwalahs are honest about something, it is in their choice of music. From Himesh Reshammiya in cars with rolled-down windows to the Jazz Festival or Bhakti Sangeet at Nehru Park, they have the capacity to consume varied forms of music. In pubs they will know their Hip-Hop from Techno. Outside, Kailash Kher is talent, Daler Mehendi is cute and Honey Singh is King. Why, even classical music finds a Kamani-full of audience. And then, apart from the ‘free-style’ dancing that can happen at the faintest roll of the drum, one child in every 20 homes is becoming a Shiamak Dawar or performing for Ashley Lobo. A similar number is learning Kathak or Bharatnatyam soon as they turn 6. And even Pummy aunty has joined belly dancing classes, for therapeutic reasons, no more! The dance and music scene in Delhi is what you can truly call a cultural curry – and it is usually served simmering hot - whether on stage or on the road!
Brotherhood in Neighbourhood
Dilliwalas have a very unique relationship with their co-dilliwalahs. Good fences make good neighbours, especially if each family has more cars than the number of people who drive. While finding parking space is an art, keeping your parking space unoccupied by strangers’ wheels is pure genius. Have an extra cycle? Chain it to your designated square with hoops of steel while your beast is away. Got a few broken chairs? Pile them to keep your parking space exclusively yours. Also, remember that cleanliness is next to Godliness; so toss that garbage bag away from your living space and close your eyes to where it has landed, whether in the neighbour’s backyard or driveway, it is none of your business. However, make sure you remain on air-kiss terms through thick-and-thin for times when you need the elusive neighbour’s area for putting up that mata ki chowki ka tent. And do not forget to send in an extra packet of halwa for the generous leeway of property. Brotherhood in neighbourhood is nowhere as insanely special as in Delhi.
Verbal expertise
Those from Delhi are masters of language. No, not the Merriam Webster Dictionary kinds but certainly of the I-can-use-what-words-I-please variety. For instance, expletives conjuring other’s kith and kin. Don’t get me wrong. Dilliwalahs do not always mean to express anger when they use them. You see such fluency in words from the other side of the dictionary that what seem like cuss words to you are actually just full stops, commas, full sentences, exclamation marks, fillers, greetings, middle names and often just shortened self-references. On a quieter note, have you ever noticed how they tell you the way when you ask for directions? With such confidence they will point their fingers (all five, this time!) to the next crossing that you can see and ask you to reach there, and then ask for further directions. They hate to say no to wayward tourists, even if they do not know the way. They also hate to say yes to moderation and go to such extent of hyperbole that if a mole hill is not called a mountain it means that the world is spinning from North to South.
Verbal expertise
Those from Delhi are masters of language. No, not the Merriam Webster Dictionary kinds but certainly of the I-can-use-what-words-I-please variety. For instance, expletives conjuring other’s kith and kin. Don’t get me wrong. Dilliwalahs do not always mean to express anger when they use them. You see such fluency in words from the other side of the dictionary that what seem like cuss words to you are actually just full stops, commas, full sentences, exclamation marks, fillers, greetings, middle names and often just shortened self-references. On a quieter note, have you ever noticed how they tell you the way when you ask for directions? With such confidence they will point their fingers (all five, this time!) to the next crossing that you can see and ask you to reach there, and then ask for further directions. They hate to say no to wayward tourists, even if they do not know the way. They also hate to say yes to moderation and go to such extent of hyperbole that if a mole hill is not called a mountain it means that the world is spinning from North to South.
Phew! So you see, ‘insanely special’ is not a coincidental combination of words. And words can only but attempt to reproduce the special characteristics of dilliwalahs. The right combinations, peg measures and degrees only Delhi knows, as it lives life to the lees.
But then we tried, didn’t we?
[Written for the launch issue of the print magazine The Creative Project. All Rights Reserved.]
Great post!
ReplyDeleteLOL You got the heart of Delhi which is vibrant, colorful and full of life!!
ReplyDeleteAren't you such a darling, Sfurti! Thanks so much for posting this here, again. I do feel every bit of Delhi, yet again. :P
DeleteYes, Sure - Driving starts with an R for Rage and the ones of the 'I-say-what-I-please' species are ever expanding their base.
ReplyDeleteBeing a Delhiite, I can very well correlate to and understand your sentiments throughout the write up!
All I can say is - We are on the same boat Mrs. Nanda! - Common points to annoying behaviour...
Great magnification into the Dilliwallah's psyche! :D
Thanks so much, StirYourSouls. Indeed, on the same boat. Or should we say on the same speeding car? ;)
DeleteAh yes, you caught Delhi unawares :-)
ReplyDeleteNice post.
Thanks, Sangeeta. That's a nice way of putting it. :D
DeleteOMG, Sakshi tumne toh PHD kar di, Dilliwallon par. Lekin bahut sahi nass pakdi hain. I was nodding all through out the post. At some times a sly smile and at others a hearty HA HA HA! The driving and speech skills are excellent no doubt and so is the bling. Gosh, if I don't stop now I might end up with a mini post myself, out here. :D :D :D
ReplyDeleteThank you, Blogwati Gee. The sly smile and HA HA both make me happy! Oh I wish you do write a post on this too.That would be the Real Thing, what with your writing skills! This post will lose all the 'bling' in comparison. :P
DeleteVery perceptive description of the Delhiites.
ReplyDeleteLike they say - takes one to know one, Tomichan. I did not have to use my ESP for this one. :P Thank you for reading!
DeleteHahaha...now I can understand them a wee bit more. :)
ReplyDeleteNo, you cannot. I've been around for 13 years and I still don't. :P Even though, by many standards, I belong to the "tribe". Thanks for reading, JANU! :)
DeleteThat's a true description of Dilliwalas. Nice write up :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Disha! :)
Delete"Without butter chicken no life. Without glitter no wife." I must remember that for the next Indian meet!! :P
ReplyDeleteHaha! Sure thing, Roshni. :D
DeleteNice write up...that's the best one can explain about Dilliwalahs....proud to be a part of so lively Delhi! :)
ReplyDeleteI ditto the pride, Priti. Thanks for reading! :)
DeleteI lived in Delhi for a while and could just remember what all u wrote
ReplyDeletegood post Sakshi
Thank you, Afshan. And many thanks for stopping by! :)
DeleteThis reminds me of my first visit to Delhi. My dealer, whom I'd met for the first time, kept using "expletives conjuring other’s kith and kin". I thought he was being disrespectful until I heard others using the same expletives while praising golgappas, sandwiches, etc.! That's when I realised that "what seem like cuss words to you are actually just full stops, commas, full sentences, ...." :-)
ReplyDeleteAs a writer of this post, your confirmation of what I say, through your experience, makes me happy. But as a person from Dilli, I rest a little embarrassed too. :P Thanks for reading, Proactive Indian. :D
DeleteI had loved his post when you put it up first and had even commented on it, but for some reason, I don't see the comment now.
ReplyDeleteIn any case, although I have only been to Delhi in passing a couple of times in my life, and have had Delhiwalas only as acquaintances, this post made me realize at least some part of the character the city and its inhabitants have. Very few people have the ability to convert the character and the spirit of a city in words, and you have done an awesome job of it.
Congrats and this post truly deserves to be one of the Tangy Tuesday picks
I have de-activated Google+ commenting. Was a hassle for most who wanted to comment. Plus, I was missing Mr. Anonymous. :P So, your comment and hundreds of others on my 70 odd posts got wiped out. Heartbreak, but I'm happier now.
DeletePerhaps, it takes one to know one, so writing about them was my 'bai haath ka khel' ;) Happy it rings true! Thank you, Jairam!
That was a vibrant post.. the dil of dilliwalahs gonna swoon after reading it...
ReplyDeleteAnd I liked the sarcasm when you said Driving in Delhi begins with D still...
And the people here definitely live to eat... everyplace you go and you can see people gorging on food...
manjulikapramod.com
Hi Manjulika, thank you for stopping by. So happy you liked the post! :)
Deleteand i just realized.i am proud of being a delhite!
ReplyDeleteMe too. :D
DeleteGreat piece Sakshi! All the Delhiites I know fall somewhere or the other in your firebrand scheme of things bursting with wit! That clever eye for details surely brought a smile to my face... It was an absolute delight to read! Big hug!
ReplyDeleteI love your comment, especially the 'firebrand scheme of things bursting with wit'. I must use it in my introduction somewhere! :D
DeleteGood to see you here. Keep visiting!