Delhi! Gimme Gimme!

A few of my favourite places in Delhi.

Disclaimer: I have not spent a significant amount of time in Delhi in years…also, most of the places are tinged with memories of the Ex which is while I want to come back to Delhi, I am scare that when I do land, I will fall apart. Like the Wicked Witch of the West. Except I am not ugly.

And I don’t wear dresses.

1. Big Chill. Look, you come here with me and I will buy you a banoffee pie if you like it. I love bananas….nuts about them…B-A-N-A-N-A-S over bananas…get the picture? And the Al Funghi pizza which is as much fun to say out aloud as eating it. The ginger fizz may have gone down a bit. But its still pretty strong. The Ex lives around the corner. I used to pick her up, we used to spend 10 fretful minutes trying to find a space to park, me bitching out the traffic, taking loops on that main rood wondering why the fuck it was such a pain. And I would buy cigs from the guy opposite in the corner. And I always had to sit with my front to the door. And I would always check out the new movie posters. Hells bells, I knew my order before I got the menu. The Ex and I would argue about what to eat because she always wanted to share and I wanted a whole, fucking A, I’m a big guy woman! (okay, I’m not fat but I have a decent appetite and have you tried their chicken breast with that sauce and lemon?).

That place felt like home, I remember hearing Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down for the first time there. I remember meeting all my Delhi friends when I returned to India after my first year abroad. I remember sitting with Khadi (a friend from Hindu) and talking about how I was going to rule the world. Which I still will. I promised her New Zealand. Anyone dibs on anything else? Anyway, I don’t think I can go there with friends any more, heck, that was my place with the Ex. And now someone else sits facing the door. Perhaps a date? That would kind of help. Yeah…that’s the only way I can go back there hmmm…someone throw out a slice of pie won’t you please??

2. Mocha. Fuck off, I discovered that place before the teeny boppers did, where the guy knew me and BestBud on sight. While the Ex was working, I had 3 mos. off for the summer. BB lives in Greater Kailash II , a 15 minute drive from my place and we would meet up at Mocha. Have you seen the ummm, fuck, I forget the name but that huge slice of chocolate cake that three guys can’t finish on their own? I’ve had nice times, there, lying with my head buried in the Ex’s middle, going there with other girlfriends, or just with BB and smoking a sheesha. Okay so fine, I am a sap, judge all you want but I remember the last time I was there. I just wanted to hang out with AB and the only time we were both free was a weeknight at 11pm. I remember ordering mint tea and a sheesha and its just polite that if you order before the other person is there, you ask for another cup for them. So AB came in and saw the cup and asked what I was drinking…mint tea. She said it was the nicest thing anyone had done. You won’t catch me blushing and I don’t, very little fazes me. You can stab me and all I will do is drive and get myself patched up. You can tell me the most perverted The Aristocrats style joke and I will laugh but not bat an eyelid. Compliment me and well, hm, yeah…well…gee

But it was a nice night, I loved just talking to her about anything and everything. Dang it, I see a pattern, anyone I can talk with that openly, I can conceivably fall for.

3. The terrace of BestBuds house. People, you have to be there. I think that’s where we grew up. He has lived in that house forever and then some.

That was the first place I got drunk. It must have been class 11…no wait, after the 10grade boards. We made a video of how BB, The Fat One and I were doing after a month of nothingness – in short, a video where we were dead with boredom. I still have that video. I was thin, had a faint moustache, BB was thin and the Fat One had his hair.

The first girls-guy party was at his place (just two girls came…yeesh). And it was really awkward because that was the time The Fat One and BB figured out I liked AB. And man, it was so high school with them giggling at me…fucking A, if I smoked backed then, that’s when I would have gone to the terrace for a quiet one.

I remember his tiny room with a huge Iron Maiden wall hanging I gave him from Clyde’s at Palika. And inevitably when one of us would get a new cassette (whatever happened to cassettes? I had about 150 of them…now, I have an iPod…yeesh, I’m sure Schumpeter would have had something to say on creative destruction) we would be at his place, the volume cranked up dreaming about these bands and seeing them live.

Man, so many memories. I remember the parties which inevitably became a free for all and everyone in GK I I would land up.

I remember playing cricket in the park by his house where you had four pitches overlapping and you had to make sure the ball you chased was the one that belonged to your game.

His neighbours have this huge building which leaves one side of the terrace with a big wall. MT had a projector and it was a big deal every winter, just guys, tons of beer, a movie, the Fat one in the corner on the grill, not letting anyone near the grill because he wanted to play chef…I remember late night, everyone drunk, I would climb up to where the water tanks were, smoking a j, looking out at Delhi, wondering why I left home, if the city had someone special for me, if I would come back, the planes flying overhead, each one carrying someone somewhere, someone going to be where they were meant to be and wanting to get on that plane and get out, grow up and find me…wanting to meet the me I was going to grow up and be. I also remember abortive attempts to grow some in this disused bathtub with mud in it. Apparently his mother had tried to grow flowers in it. Man, if I had some of the seeds mate with the flower seeds, go knows what would have sprouted (yes, I know it doesn’t work that way)

And I remember how it would always be just me, BB and the Fat One. One time near divali, BB and I took to blowing things up. Amongst the casualties, one was a file that ripped in half sending one part our way. BB and I dove into a small side room on the terrace just to realize that’s where the extra gas had been stored…so we dove back out. Oh yeah, there was this empty Amul cheese tin which took off into orbit…we never saw it land

It feels good going to his place, the door is always open and if its not, I’m standing under the kitchen window yelling Aunty!!! Lemme in lemme in…and I can hear her laugh as she comes down to say hello. And his dad who always offers me a drink. And his brother who is my age (am the youngest of the lot…even Bobo is older!) comes out looking sullen and we trade insults.

Oh yeah! There was a pool party at his place…of course, that was just an inflatable pool which could hold four at a time…but heck, mix it up with lots of ice and beer…I ain’t leaving…well, I did when three fat guys decided to get in…I was invaded by way too much fat coming at me….

4. The golf course at the Qutub Minar: have spent a little time playing golf with my Dad. He is better than I even though I introduced him to it. And it feels good to be reminded of that...the fact that he is better. Well, he wasn’t around much when I was growing up but it feels good to have him be a dad. I am closer to my mum than him but he has the only one who can say my name in a way that makes me feel like a kid. My mum is the only person who calls me by my nickname. And my dad is still taller albeit by half an inch. And whenever I used to go out as a kid, he would look me over to make sure I was presentable. And it’s a habit I still have.

There are others but I will save that for another time.

I realize it may seem as though I live in the past…ain’t true, it was just me missing home last night