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Now the following is a conversation that has sadly happened more times than I care to count in my life outside of Delhi. Specially my two years in Mumbai. And it almost always, and I repeat, ALWAYS goes the exact same way. This is when I meet a new person, lets for interest sake call them Ms/Mr. X.
X: So…that’s a weird surname….what are you?
Me: As in?
X: You know, like are you Bengali, or Gujarati or what?
Me: Oh, I’m a Delhiite.
X: <sniggering> No, I mean what are you?
Me: Well, I’ve been born and brought up in Delhi, that makes me a Delhiite, right?
X: <Weird crazy-girl look>
Me: Well, my parents family lineage goes back to UP.
Me: I guess by that logic I’m a UPite.
X: No, that doesn’t make sense.
Me: Why? Gujaratis originated from Gujarat…Bengalis from Bengal…I originated from UP. So UPite.
X: No, but that’s not a caste.
Me: You want to know my caste?
X: Yeah that’s what I meant!
Me: Bengali is not a caste.
Me: I’m a kayasth.
X: What’s that?
Me: I have no clue.
X: Err….so you’re a Bhaiyya?
Me: <rolls eyes> Sure.
X: You speak Bhojpuri?
Me: People in Kanpur and Lucknow don’t speak Bhojpuri you know.
X: Oh… <Awkward Silence>
Me: <Thanks God for the end of that mind-numbing conversation>
X: So you’re a Delhi girl? But you’re so not like a Delhi girl!
Me: <takes out her oh-so-cool Hattori Hanzo sword and finally gets the idiot’s party started>