Dissecting the so called spirit of Delhi

With the bombs ripping apart parts of Delhi on Saturday life ideally should have come to a standstill. Paralysis spawned by fear should have set in and people with some spine should have done their bit for the wounded and the dead. The rest of the signs were bang in place, the police with their pathetic statements, the Politicos expressing grave concern over the tragedy, tightened security in certain buildings, the media tripping over itself to get the best shot and the best camera angles, hospitals overflowing with blood and gore, in short, every side show that you could expect in the circus.

What was missing palpably was the lack of concern that Dilliwallas showed for their fellow man. Tales of rickshaw drivers charging hefty amounts to take the wounded any where, not even a token mourning period observed by the people, security being as lax as ever in the metro, these were disheartening signs.

For the past three days Radio stations have been spouting nonsensical messages that state that the spirit of Delhi is indefatigable. What spirit? Does this city have any spirit to speak of? What spirit are we really talking about?

If by spirit they mean that Dilliwallas went shopping the very next day or that the shops were open in the very same markets that the blasts took place in or that people were reluctant to play it safe even on the very day that the blasts took place then all I’d like to say is that we had better look for a new definition for the word callous because the definition for that has been relabeled SPIRIT.

There is nothing spirited about going out on the day after a tragic event has taken place and enjoying yourself. It is even more pathetic that on should choose to do so. It simply shows a lack of taste and a lack of care and concern.

The day after the blasts was Sunday and by late evening the roads were packed with cars as usual. It was as if by partying harder Dilliwallas were trying to fool themselves into a sense of security that was as artificial as the pancake on the ladies’ faces.

When Jaipur was rocked by blasts earlier this year, Jaipurites stood up for each other, blood donation camps, supplies, warmth and above all a widespread concern for one’s fellow man dominated the city’s emotional barometer for days. The next day Jaipur wasn’t found partying, it mourned each death with dignity and compassion. Jaipurites showed real spirit – a spirit of that was woven with faith, hope, dignity and compassion.

Delhi’s reaction in comparison is akin to that of the young widow getting hitched within days of her older husband’s death. Dilliwallas have no sense of dignity. Loud, in your face, desperately trying to be something that they are not, they behave in ways that are completely antithetical to the very tenets of humanity.

Spirit is not defined by the way you choose to hide your anxiety; it is defined by the way in which you choose to react to the menace at hand. Jaipur chose to behave with dignity, Delhi with crassness.

Delhi, I implore you, get a heart transplant – put the Dil back in Dilli before you lose your soul.