Dilli ki laddu..Hyderabad ki Biryani...

23rd Dec, 2007:

My six years in Delhi thus came to an end.

It was one of those wintry Sunday noons I would have otherwise spent inside my room, under the quilt, watching Shrek for the 19th time and munching deep-fried saboo daana papads… But I was leaving Delhi, and to tell you the truth that day I was so excited (about the lasagna I planned for lunch and the prospect of meeting Don the next day) that I actually had to keep reminding myself to feel sad. A few drops of tears did trickle down when I hugged Ju ba-bye...but that was more because I wouldn’t get to see her for a real long time. Besides, we hugged so tight that emotions of some kind were bound to ooze out.

Bedu came to see me off. Left. The train was yet to spring to life. I sat there by the window, staring out at the commotion of passengers, luggages, coolies, beggars, sadhus….trying my best to arouse the last bit of nostalgia, trying to feel Dilli in all that I saw. Surprisingly though, instead of blues, I felt a sense of disgust seep in…I felt like puking…

All of a sudden Delhi meant nothing more than eternal traffic jams (the BJP procession in the Parliament street still fresh in my mind), marrow-freezing winters (other day at Ju’s house I thought I would die freezing), equally despicable summers (I hallucinate spending it under water), a land of lechers (dare live in Munirka!), some loathsome memories (that I was)….

The only thing bothering me was settling in Hyderabad henceforth…

2nd Jan, 2008:

The Telegus wouldn’t stare at you like Delhiites do. After a week I concluded: nothing amuses them except Chiranjeevi.

I never attended a New Year party with more flash of skin. And I wasn’t an iota jealous when Don stared after I was done and already yawning. Infact I was wondering when did South India's hip-craze got replaced with cleavage-craze. Not that I am some Fashion Messiah. A few more months, who knows, I might also become one of these 'fashion confusions' (minus the flesh flash). Only a trip to Delhi every 2 months and a stroll down the Priya and PVR Saket promenades can save me!

Buying vegetables, magazines, even Garnier shampoos, getting your maid clean your cup board, travelling in auto – are all challenges. “No Hindi, no English, Telegu bolta” and "Nehi hona" to everything query is what you get. Now isn’t that frustrating? Departmental stores (Trinethra, Spencers, Vah Magna) are respites and I can see myself turning into Richa Maam (a Spencer loyal) in no time. With my kaamwali the war is expected to continue till she learns Hindi or I Telegu. Infact, I am planning to teach her Assamese instead. Would sound cool - "Oxomiyat kotha kua Telegu bai".

“FOOD”! I live food, I dream food, I pray food! Don (having cracked the way to my heart) took me to this place called Paradise in Secunderabad. And the palate of Hyderabadi Biryani (Mutton) and the apricot dessert - Khubani ka Meetha...got me! Next it was the Double Ka Meetha (tasted like Gulab Jamun) and Haleem (made of wheat) at Hyderabad House and man I was clean bowled! I picked the Times Food Guide and my eyes glistened at the Mexican, Lebanese, Thai, Chinese to Avadhi, Irani, South Indian, Punjabi eateries in the city...something, no previous boyfriend inspired.

Me and Don make fine hogs together and we agreed to make a land of gastronomic indulgences out of Hyderabad till we discover fresh amusements.

Dilli ki laddu te Hyderabadi Biryani….dono ka kya kehna..

Khaoge te janoge....

Welcome to Hyderabad – saddi neyi city!