Over the last few years, Delhi's climate has begun to mirror its political soul. Full of murkiness, intrigue, canker and claustrophobia. There's the vehicular pollution, the dust haze, and now the fog, or as many will assert, the smog. Driving down, in the new millennium, from the mountains-which were curiously bright, clear, and bathed in sunshine-it was particularly depressing to be engulfed in thick Dickensian fog, with visibility at zero and an eerie sense of evil hovering in the air.
Friends who'd stayed back to crack the new year in the big city had horror stories to narrate. Of five-km drives which took two hours, of not only missing familiar turnings but entire colonies as they hugged the kerb for some sense of direction in fog thick enough to slice. Those not of Delhi can hardly imagine the disorientation. Those of Delhi, of course, characteristically, partied on.