Amidst the smell of human piss and medicinal alcohol I realize how Delhi makes me resent myself. There is always Nizams kebabs to ameliorate this feeling but that apart, each push and jostle from the lady in the queue behind me has my adrenaline pumping as thoughts of confrontations loom in my mind. People are extremely comfortable jumping ahead of you in queues, and sure some hyper queue jumping junkie doesn't get me worked up but when it transpires three times in a row I feel it's time for a confrontation. And so it ensues and not that it leaves you simmering in a pool of victory. I felt resentful,like I have regressed. There are ofcourse many socio economic evils in our society that makes one sympathize with the bottled anger and frustration, but the words of German philosopher Nietzche resonate in my mind- he said- the measure of a society is how well it transforms pain and suffering and undoubtedly, en masse, Delhi has plenty of the aforementioned pain and suffering, yet we channelize it into hate and aggression. A new form of catharsis perhaps is needed. A metamorphosis into art, as Eric Weiner writes about Iceland in his Book "The Geography of Bliss", is required in this disgruntled city as well. Brooding writers, dark poets, struggling painters...where are you my friends?

The Invincible Bubble

We live like we are going to live forever
Planning and doing, with the aura
Of invincibility upon us.
Forgetting we’re no different from the
Insects and rodents we disinfect our homes of,
Man is great at creating illusions, delusions
Why are we different from the stray dog
that was killed yesterday on the highway?
Why are we above this randomness,
The mortal nature of our living?
Why do we plan years and years of happiness
Ahead of us?
Why aren’t we more afraid?