One whirlwind chakkar to Dilli… and so much to digest (after taking care of the indigestion, of course). Just as there are multiple Mumbais (a new version gets born every day), there are diverse and countless Delhis. Both cities struggle to make sense of the concentric circles that never meet. If in Mumbai, the main divide is between the rich versus the poor, in Delhi is power versus power. Poseurs thrive in such environments. But even the most dedicated poseurs from both cities look and act differently. The Delhi ones are more obvious. They stick out in a crowd of hundred. The Mumbai ones are more deceptive and merge with whichever social set they wish to slither their way into. I vastly prefer the brash Dilliwallas to Mumbai’s chi chi crowd. Being obvious, upfront and out there is not considered crass conduct in Delhi — a city that has bred ace hustlers for centuries. In Mumbai, hustling happens big time, it is just done with slightly more elan.
Both cities are obsessed with one another.
The main difference is the Dilliwallas’ Bollywood fixation. In Mumbai, we take our mega stars for granted — treat them more like padosis with flashier cars. Nobody gets overawed, kyunki in a crazy city like Mumbai, it is understood that fame comes with a sell-by date. If only Dilliwallas felt that way about the politicians! Power works on the same principle. The puffed-up neta of today becomes a forgotten nobody the moment he/she loses the coveted position. The sharpened knives are permanently out in both cities. Friendships — genuine friendships — are as rare as spotting a lost Siberian crane in Goa. Dosti is understood very differently in Mumbai and Delhi. Mumbai dostis are generally matlab-free. You don’t make friends with someone because that person can be of use someday. In Delhi, you don’t waste a minute investing in anybody who has nothing to offer — no deal, no contract, no contact, nothing. As for eye contact… no chance, unless you are a VVIP. The thing is that in Delusional Delhi, everyone believes he or she is a VVIP. There is a strict hierarchy in place at large social gatherings, which is understood by all. If a person walks in with six commandos, you will pay obeisance appropriately. No commandos? Oh… must be a maamuli babu in some obscure ministry. That guy over there? He recently retired — that’s why nobody is talking to him. Yes, yes, yes, he held a very important post. He had the PM’s ear. Several ministers were on speed dial with him. Today… he is around, looking for a private sector job. Maybe he will get on the boards of a few listed companies. That’s it.
Post-Diwali audits of presents is mandatory to accurately assess one’s social status. Bureaucrats lament the most, after being shifted from a plum posting to a more low-key one. Their homes, which would receive a convoy of limos bearing lavish Diwali gifts, are eerily empty after the transfer. Their peons are furious and sulking — no big, fat baksheesh this year, from Sirji/Madamji’s favour seekers.
A bit of similarity with Mumbai in this regard. It happens with veteran movie stars whose homes would be filled with guldastas and gifts from fans and producers, but are completely ignored today. If a top movie star, who has not been seen in a film for twenty years, walks into a Diwali party these days hoping to be mobbed, chances are nobody will recognise him or her. It happens a lot. Faded movie stars cut tragic figures in public. As do faded netas who once wielded enough power to make or break governments. Watch them amble into a Dilli Diwali, expecting the crowd to dive for their feet and grovel, and feel their “dard”.
Since it’s Diwali, which will be followed by Xmas and New Year, the tension over gifting is on! In Delhi, the size of the gift hamper is important, for sure. Size always matters! But the real “hampers” are never displayed! The asli Diwali gifts are delivered discreetly, and are generally very, very, very tiny! Think flawless coloured diamonds from the best mines in Russia. Handing over gold or silver Lakshmi coins is not just passe, it’s cumbersome, heavy and attracts robberies. Now that silver has outstripped and outperformed gold during this festive season, check the quality of what you believe are silver gifts but may be plated. Dry fruits, badam pistas, cashew nuts are from another zamana. In Mumbai, the gifts have to be “curated” to show how socially aware you are. I have received kilos of foxtail millets this week — making me feel like a cow put to pasture. Old fashioned chocolate boxes are a big no-no, especially if gifted to a household with young children who have never tasted choccies! Remember, the aware parent of today, can happily down 10 tequila shots in the presence of bachchas, but will be conscientious enough to snatch a creamy cupcake out of the eager hands of a four-year-old, lecturing everyone about “bad habits” starting early.
Oh well… these silly comparisons have spun an entire industry out of the so-called Dilli-Mumbai rivalry, so at least, that can be considered a worthwhile spin-off that can be capitalised on by the creative folks milking the potential of this fun premise. Note… Not ALL wives are “vacuous” (the word is trending with good reason), and some are more vacuous than the others. This is one round that Delhi is winning effortlessly, thanks to a Passi who is making the rest look painfully “passe” in this delightfully tinsel show.
Here I am beating myself up for not recognising so many VVIPs at a rambunctious, charged-up Dilli Diwali party, complete with a celebrity DJ (ahem… From Mumbai, natch!), a glittering marquee, taash tables, and great khaana peena. I definitely know they were at the same venue — I counted the number of commandos and bodyguards beadily surveying the scene as invitees danced to “Kaala Chasma”, and other Bollywood hits. Sigh. There is no escaping Aamchi Mumbai and Bollywood… not even in Apni Dilli. And no, Arvind Kejriwal was not on the guest list. That makes it fair to guess… pehley AAP, pehley AAP is rapidly running out of favour with the power elite.
Happy Diwali, dear readers!