Mori jaan pe jhapti banke, 

Banke kaali billi 

Jhapti kaat kaleja le gayi 

Mui Dilli le gayi 

(It pounced on me 

Like a black cat 

Delhi took away 

A slice of my heart) 

Dark and grey. Crime and violence. Guns and Abuses. And ruthless powerlust—this is what usually comes to mind when one thinks of Delhi. Recent shows like House of Secrets: The Burari Deaths (2021), Paatal Lok (2020), Delhi Crime (2019) and even Made in Heaven (2019) have done much to cement this image in the popular imagination of the city. Perhaps a lot of it is true, too. But is that all there is to this city, which has been pivotal in shaping the Indian subcontinent’s history?  

Interestingly, the early 2000s and 2010s saw Bollywood’s filmmakers approach Delhi with renewed enthusiasm. While some searched its streets for love, others were swayed by its penchant for resistance. In recent years, independent filmmakers have also taken a step towards exploring the smells of the gullies where the labouring class of the city dwells and dreams. While threads of these themes often overlap in the narratives of these films, what emerges is a horizon where the richness of Delhi’s culture and the quirks of its contemporary form coalesce.

Lovers’ Paradise 

Tujhse milna Purani Dilli mein 

Chhor aaye nishani Dilli mein 

Balli Maran se Daribe talak 

Teri meri kahaani Dilli mein 

(I met you in old Delhi 

I left my mark in Delhi 

From Balli Maran to Dariba (Kalan) 

Our story comes together in Delhi) 

Fondly called Shahjahanabad, old Delhi has been a persistent motif of love, memory and loss in Bollywood films. Director Imtiaz Ali, in particular, expresses deep fascination for the city in his films and Delhi emerges as a distinct character in its own right in his narratives. Love Aaj Kal (2009), Rockstar (2011), Tamasha (2015)—all feature Delhi as an agent of change that catalyses profound transformation in the stories of the protagonists.  

In Love Aaj Kal, Meera (Deepika Padukone) goes to Delhi to participate in art restoration in its old monuments. These monuments, in turn, come to signify crucial turns in the journeys of the lovers through the film. The Old Fort—where Meera engages in restoration—serves as the backdrop for both young Veer Singh (Saif Ali Khan) and Harleen Kaur’s (Giselli Monteiro) separation, as it does for the reuniting of Jai (also Khan) and Meera. In Rockstar, Old Delhi is where Heer (Nargis Fakhri) and Jordan (Ranbir Kapoor) discover their true selves with each other. While their story begins in the setting of Delhi University colleges, Heer asks Jordan to be a part of her adventures, before she goes off to get married. Their friendship commences from Amar Talkies—a dingy single screen theatre in old Delhi—where she goes disguised as a man, to watch a C grade film with Jordan.  

Dev D (2009)—Anurag Kashyap’s modern-day take on the literary classic Devdas—navigates the story of Dev (Abhay Deol) and Chanda (Kalki Koechlin) through the shady hotels of Delhi’s Paharganj. Kashyap’s Delhi is inevitably grittier and less cosmetic, as is the texture of his films. Yet, the murky underbelly of the city as a backdrop for the reconciliation of the characters says that love can, indeed, be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Seat of Power and Resistance 

Humse wafayein lena 

Taaza hawaein lena 

Dilli duayein lena 

Sansad ki raahein lena 

Badli fizayein lena 

(Take faithfulness from us 

Take the fresh air from us 

Take Delhi’s blessings from us 

Take the roads to the Parliament from us 

Take the winds of change from us.) 

The architecture of collective resistance has also been spelled out through the mapping of Delhi in the films of this period. In this endeavour, the India Gate has been frequently signified as a space of mobilisation, activism and rebellion. Its geographical importance lies in its proximity—both to Parliament as well as Rashtrapati Bhavan (President’s Residence). Rang De Basanti (2006), No One Killed Jessica (2011) and Raanjhanaa (2013) are all films that emphasize the power of citizens to affect change. 

Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s Rang De Basanti commences with a college-going group of young friends frolicking around the city and paying a midnight visit to the India Gate. In the latter half of the film, however, the group ends up being lathi-charged in the same space by the police, when they come to march in protest of their friend Flight Lt. Ajay Singh Rathod’s (R. Madhavan) death. Interestingly, in No One Killed Jessica, this scene from Rang De Basanti becomes a point of take-off for the protests demanding justice for Jessica Lall (Myra Karn). In the aftermath of the lower court acquitting the accused in the case of Lall’s murder, public outrage starts to boil against the unjust ruling. At this juncture, a young woman, watching Rang De Basanti in a theatre, feels inspired to call for a march at the India Gate. It becomes a crucial turning point in channelising public anger in the film, as it creates the necessary pressure that forces the courts to take up Lall’s case again. In Raanjhanaa, too, the song “Tu Mun Shudi” —which also traces the university spaces of Delhi—mobilises the location of India Gate as a site of protest for the student activists in the film.  

These cinematic cartographies become even more relevant in the light of the fact that post the protests in the Nirbhaya Rape case in Delhi in 2012, protesting at the India Gate has been restricted. Citizens who have attempted to call protests at the location are either detained or forcible removed. In some sense then, these films come to be an integral part of the public memory around such sites.

Labour Hovels 

To sambhal kar baithna 

Ae Husn-e-Laila dekhne waalon 

Tamasha khud na ban jaana 

Tamasha dekhne waalon 

(So, sit tight 

You who gaze at Laila’s beauty 

Don’t turn into the spectacle yourself 

You, who watch the spectacle) 

The recent crop of films made on Delhi, especially by independent filmmakers, has mapped Delhi in ways that have hitherto remained unseen in mainstream Bollywood cinema. Eeb Allay Ooo! (2019) by Prateek Vats and Ghode Ko Jalebi Khilane Le Ja Riya Hoon (2019) by Anamika Haksar are two such films, which see Delhi through the eyes of its labouring class. This stratum of society, which practically lifts the city on its shoulders, seldom features in the colourful narratives of Hindi cinema. Moreover, rarely does one see the spaces where they dwell and raise their families. In a way, through these films, one can trace the emergence of the migrant’s Delhi in Indian cinema. 

The opening of Eeb Allay Ooo! itself bears testimony to this viewpoint. The film is driven by the struggles of Anjani Prasad (Shardul Bharadwaj), a migrant who gets a job as a monkey repeller in Delhi. The film opens with a colleague explaining his job to him. Shots of Central Secretariat appear on the screen as the colleague’s voice is heard in the background— “Ye building mein humein khaas kar lagna hai. Building kya, humari jaan ki aafat hai ye. Yahan pe bandar agar kisi building ko kharonch maar gaya ya gumbad gira diya na, to saala sarkar gir jaayegi!” (We have to give special attention to this building. This isn’t just a building; it’s a noose in our necks. If a monkey leaves a single scratch on any building here, or pushes a dome off, then the bloody government will fall!) The film traces the unsettling and precarious geographies of migrant lives through its course. It highlights how human dignity too, is a privilege reserved only for a precious few, while the rest must make do with filling their stomachs through whatever means available.  

Ghode Ko Jalebi Khilane Le Ja Riya Hoon too, is an ode to the working class of Delhi, and their lives— imbricated with the grimy, tightly-knit spaces of Shahjahanabad. The film juxtaposes the romanticised historical version of the old city in Akash Jain’s (Lokesh Jain) heritage walks, with the everyday lived reality of the city for the beggars, the ragpickers, the pickpockets, the vendors, the loaders and the factory workers. Patru (Ravindra Sahu), a pickpocket, decides to do walks alternative to Akash Jain’s strategy, where he chooses to show the underbelly of the city to the visitors. In a deeply disturbing scene, he takes them through a lane where trash pickers are casually lifting dead bodies off the pavement to dispose them off. When one of the foreigners in the tour gets nauseated at the scene, Patru says, “Jiye to apne bageeche me Gulmohar ke tale...aur mare, to gair ki galiyon mein Gulmohar ke tale!” (They lived in their own garden under the Gulmohar but died in an unknown street under the Gulmohar). The film, documented over a period of seven years, does not attempt to aestheticise the hardships of the poor in its narrative. Instead, it observes these lives from an uncertain distance, giving them windows to open up about their desires, their dreams and vulnerabilities. It portrays how the working class imagined their Delhi as, and the rude shock that they were met with when they left their homes to arrive here. In this way, Delhi becomes a space where you are forever arriving. But the departure seems nowhere in sight.

Not for the Weak-hearted 

Bada Kas Ke Gale Lagata Hai,  

Dhadkan Ki Dhoom Sunata Hai 

Iske Bayein Taraf Bhi Dil Hai,  

Iske Dayein Taraf Bhi Dil Hai 

Yeh Sheher Nahi Mehfil Hai 

(It embraces you very tightly 

Makes you listen to the rhythms of its heartbeat 

Its left side has a heart 

And so does the right 

This isn’t a city; it’s a carnival). 

Though the picture of Delhi may vary across the different classes of society, what remains common is the cartography of possibility that Delhi offers. While lovers and fighters linger for their desires to be fulfilled in this city, even those who live on the edge refuse to return home. It’s because the hope of making it big someday teeters right around the corner.  

Despite its dangerous nights, despite its poisonous air, despite its filthy waters; Delhi remains a destination to settle for people from across the country, even the world. A peak into its historical map reveals how Delhi is a city of refuge for communities from across the globe. Over the years, scores of refugee colonies—be it Punjabis, Bengalis, Afghans or Tibetans—have made the city what it is today. The pushes and pulls of an organic detachment and habitual attachment define Delhi—where everyone can find multiple lives to exist in to suit their desires, just like Bittu Sharma (Sonam Kapoor) in Delhi-6 (2009). With its overstretched resources, Delhi, still, always has a chance to offer to anyone who comes at its door. 

Yeh Dilli Hai Mere Yaar 

Bas Ishq Mohabbat Pyaar!