Green vistas to hot momos: how ‘Maligned City’ Delhi grew on me

By Vishakha P. Saxena

It seems a little strange to be writing this for a city that I was neither born in nor raised in. It seems even stranger to be writing this ode to a city that is currently choking under a toxic smog. And yet, I think there is no better time to write about this city, my city… the much-maligned capital city of our country. Delhi.

We have all read gushing accounts about ‘Maximum City’ Bombay, odes written to the spirit of Mumbai, its never-say-die vibe. We have also read about the intellectual and cultural richness of Calcutta, the enterprise of Ahmedabad, the Silicon Valley-like prosperity of Bangalore.

And then there is all that is written about Delhi: ‘rape capital’, most polluted city, unsafe city. The labels go on.

As an outsider to this city when I arrived almost 30 years ago, I was apprehensive and petrified. Having grown up in small-town Ahmedabad, the change was drastic. Yes, Delhi was huge, crowded, aggressive, in-your-face. Yes, as a woman, you felt unsafe and threatened. The roads were endless, as were the traffic jams. No number of flyovers could suffice.

The weather was as harsh and brutal as the city. From the searing 45°C summer days of hot dry winds, to the bone-chilling 2°C winter nights, one had to survive the entire gamut of extreme weather. The monsoons came and went – giving some days of delight and more days of misery as one got stuck on flooded roads that went under on most rainy days. I hated the city and longed for my hometown.

Adapting to Delhi took time. The challenges of building our architecture practice from scratch, of starting and nurturing our family, of hustling every day to earn a living, soon became a way of life. A life in which the city of Delhi was an active partner. With time, the city opened its heart, and you felt the full impact of its embrace.

This was a city where opportunities were up for grabs, where anybody willing to work hard would make it somehow. Time flew by as I fully immersed myself into everything that this city offered.

Gradually this reluctant, unwilling Ahmedabad girl started identifying with Delhi. I first realised this when I started arguing with my sisters about the downsides of life in Delhi – the vehemence with which I defended the city left even me surprised!

I never noticed when this city became an intrinsic part of me. I took delight in its wide-open spaces, in its beautiful green parks that dotted most neighbourhoods, in the old monuments and relics that seemed to be around every corner, in the warmth of the people too.

I discovered the fun of street shopping in Sarojini Nagar, the joy of whiling away hours at Delhi Haat surrounded by the most incredible merchandise and varied food stalls, strolling around in the arcades of Connaught Place, or simply driving on the shady leafy roads of Lutyens Delhi.

The joys of impromptu ice-cream outings at the India Gate lawns on summer evenings, of the day-long picnics in Lodhi Garden or Nehru Park on sunny winter Sundays, of feasting on piping hot momos on a cold rainy evening… such quintessential experiences of true-blue Delhi-wallahs became elemental parts of our life.

The city of Delhi has always generously embraced all outsiders who came and settled here in search of a livelihood. It has allowed them to retain bits of their own world within the city even as they become bits of the city’s identity – each adding their culture, food, festivals and language into the great melting pot that is Delhi.

You never hear of Delhi-ites organising rallies against outsiders; you never hear them asking migrants to go home – for it is all these disparate people that truly make up our city.

And yet, who can say our life in Delhi is easy? Anything but. Being the capital city is both a gift and a curse. It’s at the epicentre of each and every political turmoil, and the average citizen has learnt to negotiate each hurdle – such as traffic jams created due to VVIP movement, or diversions due to protests – with a sense of unbeaten determination.

Toxic levels of pollution have created a new set of rules to follow and again we simply figured out ways to deal with them, one way or the other. But there is no gushing press for the ‘Delhi spirit’. There’s just more bad press – accounts of how the city is hell to live in, how everyone dreams of leaving the city for greener pastures, and so on.

And yet we are all still here – maligning Delhi but still staying put!

I, for one, view this city with the eye of a loyal lover. I see its faults but love it all the same, warts and all. I enjoy the winter sun, and its old parks and sunny terraces. I enjoy its tree-lined shady roads on hot summer days, and I enjoy its vistas and views of old forgotten relics from the past. Come March, and the utterly delightful spring season suddenly colours the city in myriad colours – certainly a sight to behold!

As I slow down on one of my long drives to a work site, I look around and savour the fleeting moments of beauty and peace within the hustle-bustle and frenzy around me. I dwell on the everlasting sense of survival and timelessness this city holds.

And I love the fact that I belong. And that the city belongs to me. And to countless others like me!

An alumnus of Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT) Ahmedabad, Vishakha P. Saxena is cofounder of the award-winning architectural firm Atrium Design Studio, Delhi, known for its customised, contextual and environment-sensitive work.