Those Ones

I want a Miss Chamko wala romaance. I want coffee and tutti fruity at Talkatora gardens. I want tharki shayari spouting roommates who sing "he he he .... ho ho ho...ha ha ha.... lalalalalala" with me in India gate. I want to "relax...(and) have a charminar". You might have guessed I've been watching Chashme Buddoor. What I mean is I want to live in a Delhi that doesn't exist anymore (and some of which obviously didn't exist beyond imaginings). Where people wore high waisted pants and striped tshirts and safari suits and scarves and blouses with long skirts. Where my mother lived in a barsaati with her besties and bought Stardust instead of dinner. Where they held "wild parties" with my visiting nani given strict instructions not to exit the room and where my dad was invited secretly by my aunts even though Ma didn't want some dude she was going to marry around. Where my mean mama took Ma's (now estranged) friend to the Ravi Shankar concert instead of her.
Don't get me wrong, I love my rightnow city. Just in a mood to romanticize the past. Went yesterday to a club with Mo and Shans, got in with a group of wealthy young folks. We were underdressed and broke, having spent money on beers in Chonas and rolls at Sab ki Khatir. Now obviously I am no muflis either, but 4000 bucks for 4 B52s is a bit much (our generous large hearted friend bought us the drinks) Instead we drank a stolen whiskey soda and bummed smokes off strangers and sat and observed the stiff trousered young men and bum length body-con (there are so many ways you can wordplay that) dress wearing young ladies who were regulars at this club.Occasional distant acquaintances grabbed on to us for prolonged skullnumbing smalltalk. I don't think there's anything wrong with dressing up or spending money if you have it, it's just that the people at that place seemed pretty interchangeable. In fact the snatches of conversation I heard convinced me that I couldn't have a conversation with anyone there for more than a minute. Everyone knows everyone, everyone's from the right schools, right colleges, right addresses. You're either part of that world or you're trying to buy your way in. But who am I to knock it? I do the same thing, go to same places all the time, always cling to my crew, we invariably meet someone we know. I am just a less wealthy young person (and hopefully less daft than some people I saw last night). I guess Delhi is just a really small world for young kids. The other day I saw an ambulance on the back of which was written "Maut aur aukat ko sada yaad rakhein". I don't know where this is going. Just, last night was a fun strange sociological experiment. Of course it would have been fun had the rest of Team B been there, then we would have destroyed the place.
Ok, got to get up and go to a world where time has actually stood still. Where people still look and sound like they  (some of whom still desperately trying to cling to their glory days in the 70s) were in "In Which Annie Gives It Those Ones" (No Arundhati Roy fan and still want to crack some heads open if they tell me I have that "Arundhati Roy types" look but this film is just pure fuzzy nostalgic awesomeness). I wish it were that much fun though.
I also wish someone brought "hazaar" back in style.