Delhi again welcomes us into her firey arms.
The first round in Delhi was an onslaught of sights sounds faces… Delhi can see our fresh faces. Delhi understands our vulnerability of being in the madness of this new place. Then, we were ripped away and taken to Mussoorie. Coddled between her mountainous mossy green. A small place that wasn’t too intimidating. Taught us Hindi. Taught us how to be comfortable and familiar. Now we return to this Delhi Delight again, seasoned. The heat also isn’t as abrasive and there are tons more white faces here now. It’s nice to feel like I have somewhat of a grip on this place. Like Delhi isn’t just running me round in circles. I can actually navigate my days…
Delhi is a beast. A beast that never sees the sun – and the sun never really sees. Instead of existing as a golden yolk in a pale blue sea, the sun is merely a presence of reflective clouds tinting the sky to a shocking white. There is something spooky about a place the sun never really sees. A vast land of honks and sweet red paan and roundabouts…
India curried me a happy birthday… jumping through my rite of passage into the legality of alcohol consumption – though I won’t have to use my ID as verification for the ensuing months… proloooonged sigh. Dancing. Sweat. More dancing. Flooding the dance floor with our limbs. All I wanted.
No comments:
Post a Comment