It's the time of year to visit the Delhi Book Fair and brave the milling millions at Pragati Maidan. To drive over the AIIMS flyover in a haze of fog. To drive through CP, Barakhamba Road, Dwarka and Dhaula Kuan; over NH-8, MG Road, and into DLF - IV. To go for a walk on the Ridge and gaze at Kashmere Gate from the Mutiny Memorial. To eat cotton candy at India Gate. To watch pigeons fly over Rashtrapati Bhawan. To play memory games on the Yellow Line and exult in the joyride that the Blue Line is. To relive memories at Rohini and Vasant Kunj. To find Noida's traffic annoying. To dissolve into history at the Red Fort and the Qutb Minar. To want to see and feel more, raw and vulnerable as one already is.
It's the time of year to drive through Rajarhat and New Town, over miles of straight road, with nothing but the silence of the night, and hundreds of streetlights for company. To drive through Salt Lake and, this time, play memory games with the artwork on the pavements. To marvel at the perfect reflection of a city at rest at EM Bypass. To romance the relics of the Raj. To smell hibiscus and camphor at Dakshineshwar.
It's the time of year to admit to a few vulnerabilities, yes.
2 comments:
How did I not know that you write so amazingly well so far?! Hidden talents. Love you. Miss you.
Thank you :)
Loveyoumissyouloveyoumissyouloveyoumissyou!
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