It completely beats me how Delhi can be called India’s capital. This is like rewarding criminality, greed and sloth. If that city was a man, he would be serving a life sentence inside a high security prison.
Consider Delhi’s claim to fame. You can rape women on a whim. As and when you feel horny. It’s like ‘takeaway’ food. You can pick them up from bus stops, parking lots, night spots or vegetable markets.
The time of attack is of no consequence, a powerful urge to dominate the ‘weaker sex’ is. And no need to spend on a seedy hotel in Chhatarpur. Do it in the moving car. A Santro or a WagonR will do just nicely. The smaller the car, more torture for the woman. What fun! You can even give it a shot inside the cute Nano. Sounds like more fun! This is like sex on the tap, man. And it’s totally free. A city bustling with such depraved, medieval men is the capital of India? You gotta be joking.
Next: Corruption. Delhi is the fountainhead of graft in India, the source, the nucleus, the ground zero. This is where corruption starts and then spreads like a malignant cancer across the nation. Since the high commanders of various national political parties reside here; since all of the national policy decisions get made from here; since most of the large business ventures get their sanctions from here, the city becomes the starting point of bhrashtachaar.
Every single huge financial scam that has ravaged independent India finds its origin in Delhi. Does such a hugely corrupt city deserve to head a nation for which so many freedom fighters gave up their lives?
As if this wasn’t bad enough, the exalted status has made Dilliwallahs entirely slothful. The city brazenly feeds of on all the hard work the nation puts in. It collects taxes from the rest of India, and then splurges it all on itself to make Delhi more happening, more modern and more beautiful.
While the rest of the nation’s metro cities languish and decay. This parasitic culture has spawned acute laziness, no one wants to work hard. Does this leech-like creature called Delhi deserve to be the capital of a nation of a billion plus people? Naaah.
There’s more: Insane aggression on the streets. Dilliwallahs don’t talk, they holler at you. If you are foolish enough to protest when someone bangs your car, your body will be received by your family minus the limbs. That is if you are lucky. If you are lost and make the mistake of asking for directions, be ready to get spat on with unprintable expletives. And God help you if you take panga with a ‘connected’ gentleman. Which, by the way, 99.99 per cent of Dilliwallahs are.
Also, don’t miss the embarrassingly unhealthy food habits. The calorie bomb called aloo chaat. Bad-cholesterol-laced butter chicken. Extra sweet, double-portioned sweet lassi. Sugary rolls of jalebi that go and settle down in your brains. Turning Delhi into a city of fat bods and fatter heads. Can such lumps of lard be placed on top of the nation? Bollocks.
. This nonsense simply cannot be allowed to go on. The time has come to make Mumbai the capital of India. Jai Maharashtra!
After gobbling gol-gappas at Delhi's Bengali market, ogling at Delhi beauties, the Mumbai journalist believes that said beauties should move to India's real capital, Mumbai.
Thakraney’s thoughts emerge from Italian philosopher Dante’s definition of pride: “Love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one’s neighbour.” All views are his own.
From HT Brunch, July 15
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