Delhi, With All Its Delights, Has Murdered A Part of Me
Tulika Jha talks about the way Delhi has changed her since she came here to pursue graduation four years ago.
A city does what books do to an individual. It changes you by degrees. At first you become conscious but in the later stages you in a way you don’t even realise.
Originally from Bhagalpur, a small town in Bihar, I was always awfully envious of my friends had been fortunate enough to go out (going out’ in Bihar primarily means Delhi) and explore career opportunities after matriculation. The elaborate letters my friends wrote to me spoke of undreamt freedom, fun and a world so unlike ours that I would gasp for breath for the time I could first experience it.
I had a tough time convincing my parents, and eventually when I managed to step into this city to pursue my graduation; it was achieved through some emotional wrangling.
Interestingly, Delhi’s culture didn’t come as a shock for me (courtesy my friends who had prepared me enough to confront it).
Let me state that primarily, living all on my own in Delhi has been a diverse experience, It has transformed me or rather given me a vent. I was scared, timid, painfully polite, ‘easily-hurt-by-unkind-expressions’, dim-witted (realize that even wit differs from region to region in India) and overwhelmed-by-the-enormity-of-the-city, when I came here in the beginning. The change happened gradually and unconsciously: Kishore Kumar gave way to Eric Clapton on the music side; in attire, jeans gave way to Levi’s, the Bihari hum gave way to the more ‘mainstream’ main, sandals evolved to kolhapuris, a mop of hair transformed itself into razors and layers.
From the comfy cocoon of home to the everyday ‘chick-chick‘ of the landlord was a difficult transition. Undoubtedly it made me more confident, fearless and mature. The absolute freedom I got was difficult to handle at first but later I became fiercely protective of my space and liberty. I found that having fun didn’t only mean going to the movie with parents. I had my share of fun here: frequent night-outs, paranthas at ITO at one in the night, plays at Mandi House and NSD, hanging out with friends at our favourite eating joints, unplanned outings and a lot more.
These things opened me up as an individual and made me realize that there were ‘worlds’ beyond mine. The companionship of a diverse friend circle made me develop an outlook that I identify today as distinctly mine. The mad race here made me clear headed about my own goals in life.
After having spent close to four years here, I am confident, utterly ambitious, trend consciousin a way, a typical stereotype Delhiite. But at the same time, I strongly feel that I have tarnished as a person. I have become brutally practical, cynical, insensitive and self-seeking to some extent (as is everybody else here).
I have lost intrinsic charm as a person. I regret that my criterion of assessment of everything has changed; it now hinges not on basic qualities but on outward flashiness. The fundamentals sowed by my parents also haven’t grown into virtues they wanted to see in me.
I am so used to the bustle of this city that the tranquillity and harmony at my hometown terrifies me. Some years on, I might become immensely successful but somewhere deep inside I will miss something that has died. What that is, I am not too sure. What I am sure about thought is that Delhi, with all its delights has murdered a part of me.
