"We live in the world when we love it. "
~ Rabindranath Tagore

Famed for its gardens and historical monuments, Delhi has long been the centre of India's imperial power. New Delhi, constructed on a site adjacent to the old city, was inaugurated as India's capital in 1931. Some people believe that Delhi's strategic site on the Yamuna River in north central India was settled as early as 1400 BC. The first city of historic significance appeared on the site in the 1st century BC, followed by the founding of at least seven cities under a series of royal rulers. Defensive walls were constructed, and a distinctive Indo-Islamic architecture developed. Seventeenth-century mosques and other impressive structures from the reign of the Moguls still survive in Old Delhi.

I have walked this city for almost a decade now : dreamt of the dolls dining set at the Doll House at ITO, seen the film in the tiny box at India Gate, gasped at the tallest Minar of the world, half the while wondering how the Lotus temple got its shapely cut, picked up a British accent off the airport, sat fishing on the Yamuna bank anticipating a dead body on my hook and still been mesmerized by it's diversity. The city speaks for itself with no formal introductions - the crowded accident-a-day Dhaula Kuan circle and' Bartania Chowk as the conductors call it in their lingo, the business barons on Prithvi Raj road and Janakpuri, Asia's largest colony. As a child, I remember sitting on a jute chatai in front of the television with neighbours, watching the same annual Republic Day parade every year.

An auto rickshaw (or taxi) tour along the Mahatma Gandhi Marg that encircles the city like onion rings (better known as the Ring road) through Naraina and towards East Delhi in the early hours reveals the sun touching the bodies of those already at work in the fields. In stark contrast are the marble shops that dot the streets for kilometers together. Towards the East one sees what an urbanite would call 'the vegetable pie of the world'; the Azadpur vegetable mandi. On the other side of Delhi via the bridge, bordered by freshly-cut cucumber and jaljeera vendors is the entry route to Uttar Pradesh through the territory of Noida. Take an early morning jog along Chanakyapuri, the Diplomatic kibbutz of Delhi : the vine coloured tombs of the embassy of our not so friendly neighbour, the endless queue at the U.K embassy for visas, the lush green china grass where people diligently practice yoga, the back of the Rastrapati Bhavan.

For tourists, Janpath shops flaunt favoured saffron drapes with mythological and religious designs intermingled with strings of beads and traditional leather pouches. The Hanuman Mandir is where early larks get to see hordes of flowers being sold, the morning air filled with the perfume of freshly cut flowers. At noon you can't possibly miss the aroma of the stuffed kachoris and halva being cooked in tons of ghee.

Delhi is an amalgamation of cultures, the breeding ground of many dreams. It is a savage assault on your senses. Delhi cannot be ignored.