Delhi looked unusually clean—almost glossy. The empty roads during the CWG reminded me of photographs of pre-Independence India.
There was breathing space everywhere, a rare absence of crowds. Buses ran smoothly. No dhakka-dhukki. The police were tolerable, even helpful. Citizens seemed more understanding.
For once, Delhi presented a calm and composed picture.
During my daily drive to the Yamuna Sports Complex in East Delhi, I was elated by the sudden change in public etiquette.
People were polite, law-abiding, and above all, eager to project a clean image of a city that had, until then, been battling controversy after controversy. And suddenly, everything felt smooth—almost rehearsed.
At Connaught Place, I felt as if I had stepped into London’s Trafalgar Square. The filth and grime were gone. The white colonnades stood freshly painted, and the smell of new paint lingered in the air, sharp and unmistakable.
Lutyens’ Delhi brimmed with confidence as it acquired a new identity through the Commonwealth Games 2010.
Almost overnight, the so-called “rudest” and most aggressive Indian city—at least as portrayed by outsiders—seemed to stretch out its arms with warmth, respect, and courtesy.
For once, Delhi gave its critics reason to pause. It felt like the right moment to silence those who constantly mocked the city while choosing to live in it, raise families in it, and benefit from its opportunities.
Believe me, Delhi is different.
Few Indian cities have endured what Delhi has—devastating invasions like that of Nadir Shah, or the unspeakable trauma of Partition. Its history is scarred, yet resilient.
Known for its tenacity, Delhi has repeatedly absorbed shock and emerged altered but unbroken.
The Commonwealth Games became another such moment. Against doubt, controversy, and relentless scrutiny, Delhi fought back—and went on to host one of the most successful international sporting events ever held in India.
