There are reasons why I’ll never make too many friends in Delhi. For one I'll never figure out the ‘Haanji’ crowd. It's impossible to have a serious conversation with people who pick up the phone and go 'haanji?' Excuse me? What about 'Namaste,' 'Hello,' etc? 'Haanji' sounds like you are demanding to know why the caller had the audacity to call. Even if it was just to wish you Happy New Year (ending with ji). Whenever I call someone and get confronted with a 'haanji,' I find myself launching into a long-winded explanation on why I called and almost apologising. Really.
Then there are the ‘Pancake’ queens. Especially the crack of dawn variety. Ok honey. Nothing against looking well-groomed and pretty but do you have to wear eyeliner and gloss at seven thirty in the morning? And the reason you and I will never see I to eye is because I’ll never learn that it is bad manners to walk up to you and say 'my god you actually comb your hair this early!' when you have not only combed hair but also blow dried it, applied makeup and look ready to catwalk.
This is the other thing that instantly makes me an outsider: I’ve actually taken the Delhi metro! If you are a true blue Delhiite, you never step into a mode of transport that also carries the 'aam janta.' If it's a modern invention like the metro, you appreciate it and say how proud and how international and how like the metro in Bangkok, which naturally, you have travelled on extensively. Of course, it's not your fault that the metro’s not even in South Delhi. It’s in strange places called Shahdara and Kanhaiya Nagar. And sure, you know all about public transport — like what the inside of a DTC bus looks — but that’s only because you took the U special 15 years ago to college when dad refused to give you the car.
But what has me confused the most is the 'auto expression.' It’s a mixture of awe (?) and disbelief in the eyes of a delicately bred Delhi babe, after hearing that I have taken an auto to remote, rapist-infested areas like Mehrauli, Vasant Kunj, etc. That too in the middle of the night, i.e 8 pm. I love this one and revel in the heroine worship (Brave me! Ooh I took an auto!) but I suspect that’s not what it really means.
If you have reached here and aren't itching to break my neck, you are either not from Delhi or have nothing else to read or you're simply a saintly type of person.
Before you (the possible non-saintly Delhiite) curse me for being a determined Delhi hater (who me?), let me say this. There are loads of wonderful refreshing girls, totally comfortable with how they look. PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY AVOID WARPAINT IN THE MORNING. And of course there are people who take the bus or the metro to work, to meet friends, to the movies. You do meet people who don’t look at you like you are from a different planet if you mention the word public transport. It’s just sad that I don’t meet too many of them.