Some gentle strains of music could be heard from a window above. It was appealing to step out of the Delhi hubbub and explore. The staircase wound around and led to a silhouetted wine bar.
A group of lads sat sharing beers and banter. A couple sat in one corner quietly chatting, perhaps stolen moments together. The balcony stools made a charming viewing platform with the backdrop of the ancient ruins and the verdant oasis. The young lady sang out in a mellifluous voice, the pure, fresh notes of an old Hindi song that never fail to strum at the heart strings.
I could not help eavesdropping on the lads’ conversation. Another city, another language, another culture. A culture I was born into and yet so excitingly alien. All brought together in the dark serenity of this inner sanctum.