Dilli Diaries

I didn’t like the first look of Delhi. The language was new to me, the people behaved rather rudely and the weather was awful- when our family landed there, it was hot, really hot. Since the admission deadlines for most schools were over, I joined a sub middle class school called Kathuria Public School in south Delhi. It was almost like a government school with very limited facilities. My parents weren’t too happy about my being in this school. Tin roofed row of classes and a play ground in the middle, this was not “our” standard. I also thought this school was about okay (at least the look of it) and I did hope to move out from there the next year. I made a good friend whose case had been similar to mine. She belonged to a somewhat upper middle class family and had to join this school only because she was too late to join any other. We enjoyed every single day though like any other kid in that school. The teachers, students everyone around me seemed really nice. I actually quite loved it there.

A year went by easily. My parents applied for my admission in Delhi Public School. Yes, the popular and much acclaimed “big” school. I was one of the “lucky” ones to pass the entrance test and somehow my parents got the huge (at that time huge) admission fee together and my true life lessons began. My good friend from Kathuria got admission in another big school called Mother’s International. She wasn’t to join me at DPS as I had hoped. I had to face this alone, ofcourse.

The first day of DPS: I was really scared. Here I was, a tiny little girl in a big, big school. Long, black hair oiled and braided neatly, bindi on the forehead, I certainly stood out from the rest of my class. My new classmates whose hair was short, forehead bore no bindi and in general most were of a better build asked me questions like why I wore a bindi at all? I was rather mis-tuned in style and “class”. My middle class parents couldn’t afford the expensive birthday parties, return gifts, school trips and such. I didn’t know how to make friends with the boys at a time when my girl classmates were contemplating having a boyfriend! I definitely couldn’t fit in amongst my classmates although I most desperately wanted to. My teachers assumed I was going to be very intelligent since I was a Madrasi. (No I am not a “Madrasi”, but North Indians often refer to all south Indians as Madrasi!). So there was undue pressure on me of being an intelligent “Madrasi”. My Hindi teacher assumed my Hindi was bad (although this never was the case in Kathuria) and started lecturing me on how to go about improving it. My school life it seems was quite prejudiced. As one can imagine, I was quite terrified of my new school.

There was a huge pressure on me to perform well in the tests and exams. I had to keep up to my own standard I established by topping exams in the old school. This kicked me off even more. The new school had a very complex way of testing and the grading method was different. A certain percentage of unit test marks would be carried over to the final exam results. Project work was given on and off and it mattered towards your final exam results. The tests had no doubt gotten harder and there was stiff competition not only within a class but also amongst sections of the same class!

I did make some friends. You know how the un-cool types always yearn to hang out with the cooler ones, like that. And just as I thought I had settled in somewhat, there came about a twist, a fight. It was between me and one of my cool friends. But the whole class decided to take part in this issue and how. They all sided with the cool gal and I was un-surprisingly left to my own. They didn’t talk to me, didn’t sit with me during lunch breaks and boycotted me thoroughly. I was dead sure it was not my fault (whatever the fight was for).I kept silent and I kept to myself. I am not sure how as a kid under such enormous pressure of circumstances I sustained all alone, friendless. I wouldn’t tell my sad tale to anyone at home. I hence loved being at home and hated school. Then after many days (months actually) of my silent struggle at school, things changed.

During our English class, somehow this issue came up in front of the teacher. The boys of the class disclosed this issue to her and explained how I was being treated by the other girls in class. My English teacher at the time (Ms.Latika Rai, I seem to remember her name!) was startled at the revelations. I began to cry, all those tears I had held up for many days. She listened to both sides of the story and concluded that the girls had indeed been very mean to me. She asked them to apologize; called me a hero, for not having complained to any teacher about this and sustaining their behavior for so long. Almost immediately after that class, some of the girls who had been a little kind earlier too became friends with me. I was no more friendless, thanks to Latika Ma’am.

I encouraged myself to participate in dance auditions for the annual cultural competitions. I got selected easily and won the first place for my group/house. I didn’t know this was a big deal. But it apparently was. Everyone including the house captain and prefects became friends with me instantly. Then on I was a sought after house member. They sent me for other competitions and I became quite popular, thanks (as usual) to my dancing skills. Finally I got the acceptance I was really looking for. It had taken me two years to get this far: to tell this big school not to be so prejudiced about a small girl from the south.

Obviously after all this, my classmates became good friends with me. Finally I had the friends; I had gotten much cooler and I had begun topping exams, Hindi language exams included. What more could I ask for. At this very juncture in my 6^th graded “personal” life, my family was to move out of Delhi. Unbelievably, I had to leave all that I established in the last two years and worse I had to start all over again in a new place, new school and amongst new people. And such was my bitter sweet Dilli experience!

[Dilli diaries was inspired after watching two delhi based bollywood flicks, Band Baaja Baraat and No One Killed Jessica].

You don't really know

We lived together
for many a year.
The growing up days
were not easy at all.
Hand in hand
we braced it all.

You watched on me
as I tried to steer
a paper boat on a stream that
sprung up from rain o dear!
You were the only one
to witness my dance
uninhibited.
You were the audience
before the show.
You have been my student
as I loved to teach.
Ah! the blackboard, me and you
together it taught me to learn.

You stood by me
and gave me rest.
As i faced test by test.
I have cried in your arms
and laughed in your chest.
My little corner, my own space
I came to you, when I lost pace.
I hugged you tight and let it pass
while you kissed me good night.

I have dreamed many a dream
and sung many a song
in your garden of grace.
You gave me friends,
you saw me win
you saw me lose
you saw me grow up within.

I owe to you
We owe to you, a better life.
but tell me, what can we do?
You let us go and I'll let you know
For the last time,
I'll sleep with you and let you know.
I have memories of you
that you don't even know.
Oh brick and mortar
you don't really know.

I wish you well, my dear home.

Kitne Kisse hain

Conversations

Conversations. We have them every day amongst family and friends and even acquaintances. I don't think a whole lot about most of them.
But there are some that leave me with a sense of satisfaction, joy, just a smile or just more questions. These are the ones I'd like to take note of. Think about why they were so. Why do we linger on to some conversations more than the others?
Let's see. My most enjoyable conversations are with my good friend, AB (let me name her that). We have uber long talks about each and every detail of our lives. With that details I mean those that are necessary for her to understand the situation or what we are currently going through. Each time we talk about the major life events between our 2 conversations we digress into discussing so much about the past. These conversations would have been hard to come by if she had not been a part of my life for the last 10 years. She is part of so much of my life that i cannot imagine having such a conversation with any other person in this whole wide world. I am glad to be able to have conversations that takes into consideration my whole personality, from almost the time i began having one! By relating to our past, we are able to make better decisions in our present. We are able to reflect and recollect things/moments and instances we might have forgotten. We are able to see how we've grown over the years, which is so so cool.

It is interesting that as life goes on and we meet new people, our conversations with these new people are more or less around the events that take place in the present. Although we do relate to our past to a certain extent, it is not a whole lot of what you talk about. I am not sure if we lose out on interest to tell them about our past or just think it is unimportant or it could be too much to talk about afterall. I wonder if that does effect the impression that the conversation leaves. I know for sure that these conversations are definitely not useless! I think that they relate more to our present and are not biased by our past behaviors. In many ways this is really important for you to be able to think with an open mind, un-trapped in the past.

And then there are conversations with perfect strangers. Like the ones i have while I am on the bus! They are the ones that leave me smiling and sometimes wondering. I think these are important too because they tell you who you are and how others perceive you. One day, i met a couple on the bus who after a small conversation with me, invited me to a party at their house that evening. And their invitation was pretty genuine i must say! And sometimes people share just their daily chores, their 'today's' trouble. Sometimes i share my day's story with them and i feel pretty good about it ! Even a 'how's it going' can be really helpful some days.

The impact of a simple conversation is pretty huge and vice-versa! But anyway, my closing point is that conversations play a huge role in our life. We subconsciously bear the impact of them in our decisions and actions. So talk on, reflect on them and enjoy their worth!

रोशन कर दो जहाँ

सुबह के अबोध धूप से रोशन होता हैं जहाँ ;
संध्या की लाली से डख कर हो जाता हैं दुआं।
जीवन की भी लय यही हैं;
बड़ी सीख मिलती हैं यहाँ।

मम्ता की गोद से उतर के
जवानी के नशे में झूलते हैं हम।
ज़िन्दगी का मूल हूँ "मैं"
यह समज बैठ्ते हैं हम।

मांगों की अपार दौलत से
दुनिया लूट लेते हैं हम।
अपने अस्तित्व को भी
दांव पर लगा देते हैं हम।

अपने पराये
सबको दुःख दिए जाते हैं हम।
मैं को खुश किए जाते हैं हम।

हर ज़िन्दगी कट जाती हैं दोस्तों
पर जीने का वो अंदाज़ ही क्या
जो सिर्फ अपने लिए जीए?

डलती तो हैं हर शाम दोस्तों
पर वो शाम ही क्या
जो तारों को रोशन ना कर जाये ?

Golden Glory

Sprightly green Aspen leaves
unshy for a ballad feat;
spirited by the music
Of the gusty wind.
Dyed in youthful green
countless leaves
sparkle as new.
Love it is;
as golden rays kiss
the dainty greens.
Crabapples' pink
show up few;
in testimony to nature's
sense of hue.
O' shimmery summer

you've brought in a world anew.