Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Bombay girl's take on the Delhi-Madras express

So there is this post floating around about a Madrasan's ode to a Delhi Boy and his retort thereafter (yes, he writes!). I am prompted to write a fresh post on the Bombay Madrasan taking off on the Delhi boy, but then I remembered I wrote something years ago, and I am shamelessly going to recycle it (which, btw, good madrasis don't do), but what the hell.

 I have always wondered what it is about Delhi girls and Bombay? Why do Delhi girls love Bombay (boys included)? And why do Delhi boys hate Bombay (girls not included)?

Here’s my simplistic understanding of the situation:

Delhi girls love the way Bombay liberates them.

Delhi boys hate the way Bombay restricts them.

Delhi girls finally can be what they want to be in Bombay.

Delhi boys can never be what they want to be in Bombay.

Delhi girls love the Bombay guy’s lack of aggression.

Delhi boys love the Bombay girl’s lack of aggression.

Okay, some more. Delhi boys try to look for Delhi in Bombay and are pissed off—hot phulkas off the tava, gym next door, wide open ring roads, signals that can be broken, half dozen servants to order around, clubs where they know your daddy’s name… The Delhi girls on the other hand look for Bombay in Bombay and are pleasantly surprised. That about sums it up. Now for the gory details…

Feisty, well groomed, spirited and often loud, the quintessential Delhi girl is a treat to the laid back, not obviously ambitious, non-flashy, mostly grunge Bombay boy who is still unused to a package of aggression and beauty in the opposite sex. But when the picture perfect eyeliner and the well-ironed t-shirt coexists with an appetite for whisky with water, and a loud mouth, the result is something else. Delhi girls on their part love the fact that finally, they don’t have to shout to be heard (pun unintended).

As for Delhi boys in Bombay, they already come with such an excess baggage of testosterone, anger and insouciance that the Bombay girl with her nonchalance and cool tends to take the edge off it. Not to mention she is one girl who will never ask what car he drives on the first date and never make a face when he mentions a not-so-cool address. But since he for years has been under the “Beta, sweater pehen lo” cloud, something’s gotta give somewhere. Also, for him, the transition from, “Do you know who my father is?” to sounds of “What goes of your father?” is not a happy one. He feels emalsculated. But kudos to Delhi boys who survive the two-year acid test, because then they go on to adopt the city like no other.

In the meanwhile the lazy Bombay boy is happy to let the Delhi girl do the work. It’s only when it comes to the 1BHK-happily-ever-after situation that Delhi girls fully realise the impact of what has happened. Suddenly, they miss their phulkas and daddy’s big car and driver, their winter wardrobes and entourage too.

Win some, lose some.


  1. one 10 day visit to Gurgaon n Malls, tells me, the Bombay walla's Delhi stereotype may be softening.....

  2. Well, the aforementioned letter wasn't adressed to the particular delhi boy who replied.....he replied on behalf of all the ones who got upset. As for me, the madrasi chick wrote a badly written, crass, rude and ugly piece.

  3. Sorry my bad. I referred to delhi boy in a generic way, so he represented the collective. Actually i found both letters crass, so i wondered what the huge interest amongst the twitterati was

  4. Aiyyo, you know that thing about twitter na?? We need something to get our knickers in a twist every day. How to pass time otherwise? ;)
    And today's HT City front page carries the news. Sigh.

  5. Nicely done! Really neat perspective, this. Refreshing.

    Here's what I, a Delhi girl, felt after a visit to Bombay: done! Really neat perspective, this. Refreshing.

    Here's what I, a Delhi girl, felt after a visit to Bombay:

  6. ahhhh finally something on bombay... i was feeling so left-out. bombay girls love delhi boys (we are not left to do ALL the work)!