Nupur Chaturvedi

I’ve lived in Delhi, technically, for about five years, and in Delhi/NCR for over 16 years. That’s longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere. With Papa in the Air Force, we lasted no more than 4-5 years in a place, and that too because in my growing years, his posting tenures were longer. When my sister was growing up, he was getting posted so often, she had to be left with my grandparents for a while so that some part of her education could be stable.

Anyway, I digress. In spite of the 16-year-long stint in Delhi, I have never been too comfortable being called a Delhiite. Of course, part of me never really ‘belonged’ to a place. Despite being proud of the place and having very, very fond memories, and for the longest time, the place I could truly call ‘home’, I never felt I belonged to Lucknow either. But then I actually lived in Lucknow only for five years–same as any posting tenure.  Sixteen years, then, is a really long time to build affinity, grow roots and call a city your own. So why this discomfort?

Lately, I have been thinking about the city a lot. There is context for it. A colleague (Sunil Raman) has written a book on the Delhi Darbar–the event 100 years ago when King George V was coronated, after which the new monarch declared Delhi the new capital of the country. Today marks the century of this event. There isn’t much that is being done to celebrate it. The Associated Press says it is a sign of the country’s ambivalence. There have been some sporadic events sponsored by a leading English daily. Yesterday I went to Baba Kharak Singh Marg, where the area in front of the state emporia had been cordoned off to hold a street food festival. Largely, though, there hasn’t been much noise around this event. And there hasn’t been much noise about it in my mind. Not just because I feel that this is just one more rebirth of the city with nine lives (borrowed phrase, but so apt!), but because somewhere I don’t feel connected to the city.

Okay, forget about the centuries and the history, etc. The Commonwealth Games should have been a proud moment for any city’s…er…citizen, right? Well, didn’t do anything for me. I am not in love with the city’s past or with its development. I do love the Metro, but then, which Indian doesn’t.

There is a sense of connection with Bangalore (a city whose outskirts I lived in for 4-5 years, some 30 years ago). There is a strong sense of connection with Lucknow. But Delhi and Gurgaon…nope, nothing. And yet, I can’t imagine uprooting myself from here. Most of my friends are here, quite a lot of my extended family is also here.

So what does/will it take for me to feel that I belong here? Should I leave it to the city or should I do something about it?

You
Yes you
What dreams have you for me?
What lives under that sheen?
Will you reveal yourself to me?
Or
Like a silent seducer
Are you, waiting for me
To drop my defences against your games and your illegitimate wares?
But
Why do I resist?
Am I not ripe for your love?
Will your wily caress not soothe my high-strung nerves?
Divulge your secrets so that I can fool myself.
I wait.