delhi is dramatic

48 hours of quick re-acquaintance with delhi. cops crashed a page 3 type firang filled party, where all the girls donned lajja vastras over nangu clothes and went to placate them, some lucid, some not so much, some plain drunk. truck carrying newspapers in mountains of tattered bundles crashed into our car's headlight and sped off. we followed and stopped them and had a shouting match. men shouted, inexplicably, 'boobs! boobs!' at us when we went to tughlaqbad fort. a friend left her flatmate in a huff and without a ride home because both were drunk and thought the other needed handling.
and every night i stay at my aunt's place, i get nightmares and headaches and DOUBT. i am a delhi-ite through and through.