Delhi – The heart of India, the capital, the witness of history and the most vibrant and contradictory city of the present day. On one hand, Sorry Delhi, I Couldn’t Save You the city is known for its splendor – the Red Fort, the Qutub Minar, the India Gate, Humayun’s Tomb, the Jama Masjid – the smell of history everywhere. Here, when the red morning sun falls on the Red Fort, it feels as if the soil has spoken.
The streets of Chandni Chowk, the taste of parathe streets, the shopping of Karol Bagh, the European style of Connaught Place – these are the souls of Delhi. People of every religion, every language, every culture live together here. Delhi has a distinct sweetness on its tongue – “Hey brother, how are you?” He wins her heart when she says it.
The Metro has given the city a new lease of life; One of the largest metro networks in the world. Delhi mustard greens-corn bread in winter and water cumin-tamarind sherbet in summer – the taste is unforgettable.
Sorry Delhi, I Couldn’t Save You, But this is Delhi that changes completely at night. Pollution so much that the air quality index crosses 999 in November-December, even breath levels seem guilty. The Yamuna is no longer a river, it has become a big canal – black water, foam on top, stench so much that you have to close your nose.
Traffic and traffic jams such that the 2 km journey is completed in 2 hours. The roads are broken, the gutters are overflowing, the city is submerged every rain. Crime rates are not low either – theft, chain-snatching, and female safety are still big problems. Rents so high that it is difficult for the middle class to survive.
In winter, poor people can be seen shivering on the pavement and in summer people work even in 48-50Β°C. Power cuts, water shortages, and political posters on every street – this is also true of Delhi.
Yet Delhi is a place where dreams are sold and broken. Here, Mukherjee, who is preparing for the UPSC, gets up at 4 am in Nagar to study and talks about his dreams over tea outside the night coaching.
The DU campus is both a demonstration and a love. There are thrilling parties in Hauz Khas Village and Qawwali at Nizamuddin Dargah soothes the soul. Here everyone writes their own story – someone drives a rickshaw to teach their children, someone starts a startup, someone becomes a model, someone becomes a minister.
Delhi is a mirror – the true face of India. Here wealth and poverty go hand in hand, history and modernity go hand in hand, happiness and sorrow go hand in hand.
This city will love you, reject you, make you cry, make you laugh. But once he gets in its soil, he becomes a Delhiite. Delhi is for the hearts, and hearts are broken and connected.
