Tag Archives: fog

the delhi morning fog

This time of year, getting up early to beat the traffic means you get to enjoy the mist.

On MG Road, the segments of the Metro appear out of the vanishing point, hanging more massively in the sky than they ever seem on a clear day. The air is heavy and still, broken only by brilliant flashes of blue as kingfishers flit across the road. Passing through DLFville, the skyscrapers are hidden from view, an invisible presence somewhere beyond the black silhouette of the electrical towers that abut the street.

It’s beautiful. As long as you’re not on your way into or out of the city. Every morning the newspaper has stories of canceled trains and flights endlessly delayed. The international flights apparently have the equipment and training to land in any conditions; but the domestic flights are forced to circle endlessly, or head to Mumbai for a dozen hours on the tarmac.


This was the scene outside of work this morning: a fire in the distance, beyond which women in colorful clothes materialized out of nothing. A horn honked somewhere, but it was too weak to matter; the heavy air would not allow sound to disturb it. Gurgaon, for the moment, was at peace.

the fog of delhi

Outside, a car honked and honked as it drove slowly by, its tires crunching on the street. Then silence — total silence. And then another car, slowly honking as it, too, slowly passed. These were new sounds, disquieting sounds, and they made us look outside.

At first, we thought our window had fogged up. It took us some time to realize that no, Delhi had fogged up, worse than we’d ever seen it.


This was the street outside our house (as compared to the same view when there is no fog). It was eerie. Stephen King novel eerie. Beyond these two lights, you could see nothing. In the distance, a dog barked sporadically; somewhere across the street, a guard coughed, the sound strangely near in the thick air. Otherwise, except for the few cars slowly passing, Delhi was silent, and that was the scariest part of all.