Would It Be So Bad?

Do you know the question I’m asked more than any, in everyday life?

(No, it’s not, “Hey stud, what’re you doing tonight?” But thanks!)

Native North Indians know instantly I’m not from their part of the country. I don’t think it’s (only) my features or skin tone: I’ve seen Biharis who I swear could pass off as Tamilians without breaking a sweat. (I have nothing against Biharis, by the way– only North Indians seem to have that prejudice, and I see it more than I like to.) It is of course my accent. Native Hindi speakers know from the first sentence that I’m not comfortable in the language; although I think I speak it much better than I used to just a few years ago, and if I took lessons in reading, writing, and grammar, my Hindi would be passable. Of course I’ve been meaning to take lessons for years, but I’m sure you know the end to that story. Jean Dreze speaks better Hindi than me. True story.

Where are you from? Oh, Tamilnad? Chennai? No? Vell-loor? Kahan hai woh? Madras se teen ghante? Achha, achha. What are you doing in Delhi then? Oh you study here? Why would you come so far from home to study? Oh, Stephen’s! Good, good. Very good. And now what do you do? Studying law? That’s great. So when you’re finished, you’ll go back South to practise, right?

For 3 years now my answer has been, “No no– I want to work either in Delhi or Bombay.” And I do. (North) Delhi has been my home for 6 years and I’ve grown to love it. I subscribe to the Times of India over the more southerly Hindu partly because I think it has the best Delhi-centric coverage. Pages 2 and 3 are invariably dedicated to city-specific issues, mostly concerning traffic and the condition of roads, and I love reading them. I know the names of more Delhi roads than many a born-and-brought-up Delhiwalla, and I can find my way to any area of the city except the Yamuna-paar areas, where I always get lost on the way back. [And except for Safdarjung Enclave, which is definitely the most confusing colony I've ever encountered. Firstly in getting there-- trust me to turn off the Ring Road in the wrong direction every time, whether I'm coming from Dhaula Kuan or AIIMS. And secondly inside the colony itself-- once off the main road, EVERY lane and all the houses become British semidetacheds with the same colour scheme and no road names.]

I can’t honestly say I like Bombay, apart from its public transport. I’ve probably ranted about this before, but it’s a sweatier city than Madras ever is, and I just can’t understand why Bollywood chooses to live there. But the best corporate law work definitely resides there, and pay packets are substantially higher than most Delhi law firms’.

But I got an email the other day from a school friend who said that more and more, he wants to move back to the South. He’s been around– college in Madras, postgrad in Delhi, and work in Bombay. What he said surprised me into immediately replying to ask why? Why would anyone want to move back to the hinterland? Bangalore’s weather is all very well, and Madras has more than its share of attractive girls, but giving up the big cities for the small ones? I can’t imagine leaving Delhi and moving back South. Well, I can imagine it, but it’d be so hard! I’d have to sell my bike (which I plan to do in early 2009 anyway, so I guess that’s not an issue). I’d have to sell my cot, my almirah, my fridge, and my furniture. I’d have to transport the car back to its home State. I’d have to (oh, God, not again!) transport my 400-CD collection and all my law books. My music system. My winter clothes. My bloody regular clothes, too!

I’d have to shift all these if I moved to Bombay, too, and I suppose people do this all the time– that’s why we have packers and movers. But in my head Bombay represents a better life, one where I’m not a student, where I have money, where I have job satisfaction, and where a lot of my friends are. Going back to Madras (Bangalore isn’t an option, and neither are Coimbatore or any of the non-Tamil States!) seems like such a retrograde step.

Back in Club 1860, before I started blogging, before I had a laptop even, we had an inordinate number of guests and pile-ons. (It was great!) One such cautioned me against what he called the South Indian tendency to put down roots; to settle down wherever we find ourselves and not want to leave. (I’d say that’s more a Punjabi tendency, wouldn’t you?!)

I’ve definitely taken root in Delhi-O-Delhi. But for the first time today I shed a few leaves and decided to give some serious thought to Madras next year. Let it be an option. All these decisions are still months away, but there’s a new contender in town PerakathLand.