Do you know Delhi like I do?

Delhi is a city that’s difficult to fully grasp - even if you’ve lived in it, even if you’ve felt its pulse every day, stood still in its madness and called it home for years. It’s too layered, too personal. Two people can live in the same lane for a decade and still carry entirely different versions of the city within them. People often say they “know” Delhi. But do they really? You can visit all the monuments, travel through its markets, get lost in its streets...but do you understand its soul? I haven’t even seen all of Delhi, mostly sticking to the south. But still, I wonder...do you know Delhi like I do?

I’ve lived here for over two decades and to me, it’s more than just a city...it’s home. I’ve learned to find comfort in chaos, serenity in rush, rhythm in its unpredictability. I’ll never forget crossing the Moolchand flyover, looking out at the sea of cars heading toward South Ex on my right and Okhla on my left. The traffic would stretch endlessly, headlights blinking like restless thoughts, yet there was a strange calmness that would fall over me as I observed it all. It became a space for reflection...‘How did I get here? Who am I in this world of so many people?’ ... and so many other questions. In those fleeting moments, the city was quietly listening while the world rushed by.

Even in all the chaos, Delhi has a way of making you feel alive. The constant noise of traffic, the bustle of people, the never-ending movement...this city is always evolving and changing. And yet, within that constant churn, there are moments that catch you off guard...a quiet street at dusk,the sound of a distant prayer, a breeze that cools your skin on a day so hot you thought you couldn’t bear it anymore. These are the spaces where Delhi breathes with you, quietly, without spectacle. There’s something about this city that makes you feel connected, even when you’re surrounded by thousands of people.

Delhi has always been a place for people, with a history of welcoming everyone who arrives and giving them a home. Every face in the crowd has a story, every corner holds a memory. The paanwadi (or momos wala, nowadays) on the street corner, the worker rushing to catch the metro or bus, the group of friends lounging at cafes...each has their own understanding of this place. What do they see when they look at this chaotic, vibrant city? How has it shaped their journey?

And maybe that’s the thing...I’ll never know what Delhi is like through someone else’s eyes. I’ll never know the version of Delhi that lives in someone else’s memory. Just as they’ll never quite know mine. Our experiences overlap, cross paths, diverge. Maybe that’s why I keep thinking about it, maybe that’s why I hold onto certain moments so tightly. There are places and memories that have engraved themselves into me, too stubborn to fade. Maybe one day I’ll write about them. Maybe I have to.

Delhi will always be home, no matter where life takes me. Even if I’ve left, even if other cities take over my present, Delhi remains. It’s in the way the city’s energy runs through my veins, in the way the traffic hums its never-ending song, and in the way I can always find myself in the chaos. Delhi isn’t just a city...it’s a feeling, a part of who I am. And for those who truly know it, it will always be a part of them, no matter where they go.