The city of my dreams, as it has always been, seems alienated from me today. My love for this city has been independent of the person I’ve waited for. Some of the things that I love so much about Delhi is, it’s name in itself.
The Hindi used here is my favorite. My life has been spent in learning it too, along with other regional languages. The tourist attractions don’t attract me, the public and the Metro attracts me. I love guiding people around metro even if I’m not a resident of Delhi.
But one thing broke me apart from Delhi one day. A person. A revered person. The same city, my most precious dream, was distanced from me. The place made me feel to run away as far as I could. The clang of metro train’s doors when they closed made my tears flow and seemed as a noise to my ears which used to be most soothing sound.
After lamenting for quite a long time, I thought no person can distance me from my loved city, because my love for it was independent of any person. The attachment of several years is difficult to forget. It is even more difficult to seperate the person from the place. But it seems reliving that I was relived from the hard wait of 8 years and ironically in this city of my love.
And ofcourse, the person may die, but the city never does. I may be compelled to kill the love for the person, but my love for the city will go on forever.
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