An NRI Writes About Her Hometown Delhi & Its “I’m a VIP” Syndrome
Nilanjana Gupta writes about visiting Delhi, a city she grew up in and that she no longer recognises.
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What makes a city worth living in? Its infrastructure? Convenience and the ease of commute? Low crime rate? Plenty of job opportunities? Delhi may or may not be all of the above, but it surely isn’t the city of joy.
It’s the city I grew up in, but it’s one I no longer recognise.
Words like “Thank you”, “Please”, “Excuse me” have ceased to filter down to its people. They clamour to get in first into a bus or the Metro and are willing to push others out. Pushing, shoving, abusing, beating, threatening, even killing is what arguments have come down to.
Everyone here is a who’s who. Even though they may not even remotely have a political connection, there’s always a way to threaten to harm someone. Everyone refuses to back down and waits for a fight. And when they do get embroiled in a fight, just wait and watch how the two parties pull strings to get the better of each other.
The “I am a Very Influential Person” Syndrome
I don’t live in Delhi anymore, but I do visit sometimes to see my family. It was a rude shock to me when I visited a parlour in my neighbourhood (Prince and Princess in Chittaranjan Park) on the day I was leaving the country. The staff messed up the appointment timings and I had to bear the brunt in a tremendous way.
An unruly lady in her 40s walked in with her loud, boisterous voice and demanded that she be dealt with first because she was an “extremely busy” person. The staff, like meek lambs, conceded, left me with half-done hair and went on to serve her first. I committed the cardinal folly of telling the staff that that was unfair and that everyone is busy after all. Little did I know that it would trigger the beast in her and land me in an utterly embarrassing and humiliating situation.
Later, when I regrouped and confronted the staff for their mismanagement, they apologised – but could that possibly compensate for the ridicule that uncouth lady had put me through? Of course not – being rude comes easy to many in Delhi! It’s second nature. Either develop a thick skin to deal with it or have the guts to take it head on.
I found out later that the lady wasn’t remotely linked to anyone influential, as she claimed. She was a just an ordinary paediatrician. Made me wonder – aren’t doctors supposed to be nice?
She was right on one count though – everyone is busy in Delhi. And that means you should muscle your way to the front of the queue; jump traffic lights; drive on pavements; step on other people’s toes; and knock down pedestrians. If someone protests, make him the latest victim of a road accident.
A Soulless City
This is just an isolated incident, not a representative of how the secret mafia rules the city.
The other day a lady driver put on her brakes suddenly as a speeding van raced by. As a result, two men who were on a bike fell down on the road unhurt. A crowd gathered and one of the guys suddenly slapped the lady driver. Shocked and disturbed as she was, she continued to talk to the men calmly – when someone from the crowd finally stepped in and dispersed the people.
It’s appalling how my favourite city – the city I grew up in – has descended into this soulless, vulgar, filthy and uncivilised state. Not to mention its soaring crime rate, notorious rape culture and poor public services. Living in Delhi has become a punishable offence. To be an ordinary citizen here is a humiliating experience.
I know my Delhi friends will call me a “typical snobbish NRI” who doesn’t even live in Delhi to make it better. It is not me who has become snobbish, it is the city whose ‘sophisticated’ elite I can’t handle anymore. I am not talking about the illiterate taxi drivers here, but the well-educated ladies and suited-booted gentlemen – the sorts who lecture others on how to talk to people. Somehow, the city has lost its soul.
Or perhaps I simply struggle to recognise it.
This was a city which once took pride in the laid-back and gentle rhythm of its daily life. I don’t know what it has come down to – the taller the buildings, the lower the morals. And humanity is the biggest casualty.
(As a multimedia journalist, Nilanjana Gupta considers it a privilege to allow the world to meet people with whom their paths may never cross. A graduate of the Broadcast and Digital Journalism Master’s programme at Syracuse University, New York, she currently works with Khaleej Times in Dubai.)