the second half of this month. A favourite store opens in the city right next to our house. The Oscars on Feb 22nd. I am already falling in love with AR Rahman all over again, like I guess lots of us did with Roja, now with Dilli 6. Now, I have no particular attachment to the Chandni Chowk area of Delhi but it so resonates Delhi. Such an intrinsic part of Delhi. Once the four of us had ventured out to eat nihari for breakfast one Sunday morning, followed by screamingly delicious kulfi in a glass. Then the time we spent a whole day buying bangles for my wedding sangeet with Pa selecting most of them. Then followed by paranthas at the famous gali. The paranthas were disappointing but the whole idea of being in purani dilli was thrilling. Not to forget the innumerable times we have gone to the Sunday book market and the kabadi bazaar that isn't held anymore, I'm told. Once Pa and I nearly bought a big grand old gramophone.
I read somewhere that a Delhi girl can never get used to the snowny winter. Truer words have not been spoken. Here is to the thawing of the wintry season, of my heart turned cold here and the warmth of dilli through Rahman.
Edited to add: Some of Pickles favourite books are the ones picked up by maasi from the Sunday book market like this one here
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Such soul-stirring nostalgia. Old Delhi, like Mumbai, is such an intrisinsic part of our identity as Indians - with its foods and smells and history and riot of colours, and of course Bollywood depictions - that some of the nostalgia rubs off on me as well, even though all I remember of my one (and rather short) trip to purani delhi was the infamous delhi belly.
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