Dilli Diaries Chapter 3 : MY PLACES IN DELHI

I tried to make Delhi my place, but coming from Kerala my heart just couldn’t get what it wanted – until I found these places of mine.
College mandated participation in either NSS, NCC or NSO – it was an easy decision for me to choose NSS and participate in any of the NGOs under the social service scheme. When I applied and got picked for Vardaan, the senior citizens center,  I never thought I was going to find myself a niche in that somewhat old building that was nothing but common. With all the Dadas and Dadis telling their stories and sharing fond memories,  I have no idea how time went. Over the course of an year,  I had eye opening experiences that made me analyse my attitude towards my own grandmother, some tearful farewell and some heartwarming affectionate moments. Most of the residents there have memory issues but their love overpowers even that and they still remember the volunteers' faces.  Not just the residents , even their caretakers have a special bond with us. We know their families and they know ours. My active association with the NGO might have come to a close but the memories will always be there.
My friend Jasmin introduced me to Project Inaayat – a camp working in Jasola teaching the children there. At first, it was hard for me to communicate to the kids who didn’t know any other language but Hindi and this unfamiliarity maintained a distance between me and the kids. To make matters worse, I couldn’t even find my way through the camp to the shed were I held classes. But the kids were considerate beyond their years – they led me to the shed, taught me directions and never made fun of my broken Hindi. The only problem was they still couldn’t pronounce my name,  so they called me Sonam. When I was leaving for Kerala for two months,  Farzana even came up to me and checked to make sure I wouldn’t forget them.  I can proudly say that even after two months of not meeting them I still remember all their names and will be happy to call them My Kids.
My third place in Delhi is famous  - India Gate. That place saw all our deepest talks, nigh walks and craziness.  There’s something in the air of India Gate that makes me want to go again at evening; something in Amar Jawan Jyoti that doesn’t let me take my eyes off of it. The first place that I plan to visit in my next semester is also the same.
Shout-out also to my to homes in Delhi – The new flat we took with my new crazy flatmates and my PG room with my corner bed and my two weird roommates.
Places that we can call our own are sometimes found in the most unlikeliest of places.  We might not be born into them and at times it’s not even the physical space – at times it the people and at other times it’s the memories.