Delhi, meri jaan, mat lele kisi ki jaan

My city, my people are at war with each other. Nothing knew about that. We are a violent city. A pot of melting cultures be damned, my city, is a hateful one, a despicable one at its best behavior. We fight, we rant, we protest, and then they grant. Where did all the good people go, the smart ones, the sensible ones, forever stunted in pay by their on-television counterparts!

A democracy is lovely, but an idea and ideal best left for the future generations. We never need a reason to fight, but, a reason leaves you with fewer questions and inquisitive glances to be answered. Such violent times are a precursor for what shall eventually follow- an all-out NHB street fight where anybody and everybody will get in their physical and literal punches in the fray. The hate which vibrates from people in my city leaves me asking questions of myself, but, the whole, ‘Change yourself if you want to see a change in people around you’, is invalidated by my city.

My city defies logic many-a-time. Rich people, poor people and then a few delinquents can shop at the same place and do, at various times. Traffic jams and Election time unites people in their collective hate and a collective thriving opinion is maintained only to be dispelled by the hateful fact that we the middler’s are not the majority. The not here, neither there one’s are not the number-crunchers, the decision makers, but we live with that after a few moments of whining.

A developed city it is, but sadly, in all ways. What we fail to recognize is that violence is not the answer to everything, and readily believe that violence in its entirety may be the answer to our respective problems. With us, the results matter a lot, but even when we know we can’t get the desired results, we give a good effort; After all, it is the effort that counts. A few cars may be burned, streets barricaded, people beaten, buses smashes, but, It is the E-f-f-o-r-t that counts for us.

Protests have become a second nature for us, rallying calls given out over the internet, through the media is what keeps us ever on the move. Protests are good, but only for the right cause. Anger is good, only for the righteous case. To feel so strongly about somebody/something is laudable but only when you can realize that opinions can differ. The majority is not always right; the lone man battling against a mob is not a dissenter, but a practitioner of free speech, at times. The ability to identify such people is not a god-given ability, but something you learn and develop over time, if you develop !

Religion has no place in a society, everything does, but making it a matter of discussion is near impossible in my city. Praise is easy when you talk about the teachings of various religions, but when you get down to brass tacks, literal one’s, you cannot ever really talk about religion in this city. Love Hate Respect Disrespect, do all that you must, but in the relative comfort of your own home.
If not Big brother, somebody is watching and waiting to pounce on your uninhibited views on religion with relish, because they can. The concept of religion is splendid, the teachings are magnificent, but the misinterpretations of it defy all logic except for those offenders with mass followings and sadly, they outnumber us.


Why do I write, what I write about my city! It is because I know not any other city, and I would not want to know any other city, but if my city lets me ravish it, it must let me scorn it, at times.

Such I believe is my prerogative, let me believe!