Delhi is shit. A nightmare. If you were ever considering visiting, don’t.
I’m back for the third time now and have managed to whittle down my stock response to begging from “Sorry, I have no money” to a simple “No. Fuck off!”.
The same can be applied to: “Hello sir… Rickshaw?, Map of India?, Where you from?, Shoe shine?, Keyring?, Hashish? Opium?” etc. On one mildy tipsy evening I was returning to my guesthouse and attempted a twist on the standard “fuck off” exchange with the 37th person to ask me if i wanted buy any hash (must be the Beard), responding; “Hash? No… I’d like a gun. Can you sell me guns? Maybe a grenade?”. The shady character stopped in his tracks, had a think for a moment, and replied; “Okay. Come with me”.
I didn’t.
I’m even finding myself annoyed by the cows this time round, and that’s about as non-confrontational as you get in this dirty ole town.