Delhi

I never knew I would get my my much craved respect for my existence, in land miles away from home.
Once, while getting out of the Rashbehari metro station in Kolkata, a lady had asked me, "Girl, which gate should I take for the way towards Kalighat Temple? "
To which I had replied ,"I don't know, why don't you ask the policeman out there?"
"you don't know? Why ?? Have you not been to that place? you people stay in this city and still don't know??" and blah blah till I escaped from the site of lady yelling and lots of confused onlookers.

But in Delhi things were different. People asked me whether to take blue line or yellow line metro for Chandni Chowk, which way to take for reaching the front gates of Appu Ghar, whether to get down at Mandi house or Brakhamba road for Connaught Place. And a couple of foreigners asked about the Mughal hierarchy while visiting the Humayun's tomb. And thank God, I could answer !

Then there were those security checks . In really long queues
.
My eyes were really moist while going through the Indira Gandhi Memorial museum. Reading her personal notes in difficult times, of what she went through each time while losing elections, while being expelled, about her joy of motherhood, her pains of losing near and dear ones.
At the end of the day, she was a woman afterall.

And then I went to Sarojini to check whether I do possess any bargaining skills or not.

The green and red buses on road were real eyecatchers. The best part was that they have their numbers displayed at the back. If you running after buses , you can be sure about it, in that way.
Here, kids yelled "Ab plane Qutub Minar ke andar ghuss jayegaa"