Delhi sheher subah subah

The idea was to catch the city - sheher half awake. 

To watch the security guards exchanging their duties. One will now sit on the chair, the other will rot half of his day in his rat hole type rented home, along with fellas from his village. Their dull blue uniform although speak of discipline but as well of their wary state of mind

To watch the street side solidarity, of the rickshaw wallas, cart pullers, street vendors and other homeless labor-class migrants. How they sleep together finding a place coated with soil. Does this sheher care for them? 

There are old one with loose muscles and the young one with a tired thin body. They are the forgotten part of the nation whose manual work is exploited. They possess the skill of hardship, of working in tough situations, for long hours. They are the heroes. They are the fighters

Mosquitoes don't bite them. Humidity and heat do not bother them. Thirst doesn't unsettle them. Hunger is their friend. What life

To catch the city - sheher still in breathe, in silence, no chaos, of previous day's garbage, polythene, paper un-beautifully spread

To watch the dog commune, the protectors of the night, randomly barking at suspects, submitting to their senses... Next, they will scavenge for food

To watch the city - the sheher in dim light, and the northern light blue sky, of less smog, least traffic, and honking, nearest to its purity, just in search of nature which does fight back when it blooms as flowers... 

I felt dull, energy-less as if the spirit of the city has lost. The city needs the music it deserves. Let it rain now. It has been late. Monsoon, do not punish them. let it rain now.

Delhi sheher subah-subah...

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