delhi: of blood & noses

i’ve had nosebleeds twice before in my life. the first, happened when i was ten. while on our way to the mountains-up-north, we disembarked a train at delhi station. as soon as i stepped onto the platform, the heat sent my nose a’running. the second time was in pune, somewhen in 2012, in the middle of a night-out at work. when people trickled into the office next morning, they were more shocked to learn that i’d worked through the night than to pay attention to a blood-soaked kerchief.

i’ve had a sniffy nose since the day i got to delhi. six months of a motioning nose, and an equal period of burning eyes. the first time i got off a metro train in ghaziabad, my eyes performed an impromptu watering act. and although i’ve not had a nose-bleed in this while, i wake up each morning with some blood in my nose. it’s only a few drops’ worth, but fresh blood is lost each day.

i don’t smoke. but breathing the air above delhi means ‘not missing out’. taking a rickshaw back home from work is a horrid thing to go through. wanton aggressions, rabid disregard for courtesy and near-death experiences are a life-long experience here. i’m definitely not going to settle down here. my body has made that as clear as crystal.