From Loud to Lasting: What A Limousine Taught Me About My Hometown

What can I describe about something which began way before I could know or stop myself from being a part of it? I was born and brought up in the capital city, Delhi, where every breath carries both history and ambition, where the scent of street food mingles with centuries-old stories, and where the intensity of its traffic, the chaos of its markets, the serenity of its old parks, and the intense resilience of its people have raised me just as much as the walls of my home.

When I started travelling, at first, for many years I travelled for the usual reasons of education, academic and extra curricular exposure, an escape from my routine (reality), and later, travel started coming to me without needing a reason. Over time, I started noticing how other cities felt easier, be it the big ones like Mumbai or Bangalore (apart from the traffic of course), or the small peaceful ones like Jaipur, Bhopal, Allahabad, Lucknow. Interestingly, everywhere people had a clear perception about us, as in who and how we are as "Delhites", and year after year I could see my denial shrinking, irrespective the pride I carried for the irresistible charm and belonging for my hometown.

I was at Khan Market, one of the few places in Delhi that still gives me comfort, I often go there to work, write, shop, or just reset my routine. It was around 6pm, I had just stepped out of a restaurant after an early dinner, finished a bit of light shopping and booked a cab back home. It wasn't my usual exit hour, the traffic was at its peak, for me wait longer than usual for my cab at the main entrance of the market. Within a few minutes, it got to my notice what the eyes was watching. The place was steeped with high end luxury cars, long, glinting bonnets and elite number plates. Coming and leaving every minute to drop of some extremely loud personalities, de-boarding them via chauffeurs, with chins up and declarations in every step, making the air thick with status.

The power show was real! Making me realize its existence all over again despite so many years of its awareness and acceptance.

If this had been years ago, maybe I would’ve admired the theatre of it all, maybe even narrated it to my parents later that night with a half-proud smile. But this time, I just stood there, watching, being fully aware of how much I had outgrown my own city.

And that’s when it happened. I felt a very gentle push, on my knee from behind, startled, I turned around and saw a little boy, hand-in-hand with his father, trying to squeeze past me between two parked cars. I hadn’t even realized I was standing in the only available space to exit the lane. The father gave me a polite smile and said, “Thank you.” Right behind them was another child, with a woman who seemed to be the mother. She, too, nodded and smiled and said "Thank you".

They seemed European, perhaps tourists, or expats, but it wasn’t their nationality that caught my attention. It was the quiet kindness.

A few seconds later, I crossed the lane too and moved closer to the main road, just to avoid the noise and wait for my cab in relative silence. That same family stood nearby. Their car arrived soon after, sleek, long, unexpected: A limousine. They boarded it quickly, without drama, and drove off. And I just stood there in the heart of my city, the hub of its wealth and pride realizing something I hadn’t put into words until that very moment.

And maybe, just maybe, we need these moments, the quiet ones, the gentle nudges, to remind us that we always have a choice. That evening taught me something no leadership book or Instagram quote ever could. That moment was so profound and enlightening for me, it made me look up to something so empowering within the chaos, that

We always hold the power to choose and belong to grave over gravity, no matter how deep the pitfall is.         

If this piece resonated with you about identity, travel, or the journey from loud to lasting, I’d love to hear your reflections. What has travel taught you about home?