Fifteen years in Delhi

I knew the parks. The potholes. The people
Plays. Prices. Petrol Pumps

I knew the forts. The flowers. The fests

I knew how winter smelt and how long the monsoon lasted

I knew those seasons that brought in whiffs headier than tequila shots

I knew autumn and pale yellow leaves that loved being crushed

I knew wind that howled while the rain sang

I knew the daily sunsets and the occasional sunrise

I knew the borders and I knew the bars
And with them, I knew the happy hours

I knew C P remained closed on Sundays

I knew where you could bargain and where you must not

I knew the dhabas under the flyover and the five stars equally well

I knew that streets were wide and the mind-sets, narrow

I knew the seasons and the reasons
I knew the lies to tell and the truths to hold back

I knew the open terraces and the colourful kites

I knew six different routes to home
I knew five different excuses to get out of there

I knew the streets and the street dogs
I knew the summer sweat and the thick winter fog

I knew the kids who waited for their school buses on winter mornings
I knew the old auntie who had no one to wait for but still did, every evening on the cane chair

I knew the waiters at Turquoise Cottage.