Just like the rest of us, Delhi-based Stand Up Comic Vikramjit Singh was mighty impressed by Virat Kohli's swashbuckling half-century last Saturday that won India their World T20 encounter against arch-rivals Pakistan. But instead of just applauding India's batting stalwart and getting lost in the frenzy of our 11-0 aggregate in World Cup encounters against the neighbours, the former advertising professional went on to dissect the cricketer. While there's no questioning the fact that his talent and dedication plays a huge part in Kohli's success, being born and brought up in Delhi has also played a big part into moulding Kohli into the cricketer/person he is. Here's what Vikramjit wrote:

Virat Kohli and the two sides of Delhi

It shouldn’t, but it does. And it happens every time Virat Kohli does something impressive. I begin tracing him and his personality back to the city he grew up in. A bit like Sri Sri Ravishankar claiming credit for India’s win, I tend to credit Delhi for Kohli.

This stupid tendency for finding connections and patterns was given a final nudge when I read this tweet by @karachikhatmal: “Kohli gifting the bat and Kohli’s “it’s our fucking hometown” bit capture the impressive emotional range of the player.”

For the uninitiated, Kohli gifted his bat to Mohammad Aamir before the match, and after the match hugged his teammates saying "That's it guys. It's our fucking hometown, nobody's taking it away yaar".

Between that “All the best” gesture and that “We kicked your ass” statement lies not just the emotional range of Kohli, but also of Delhi. In which other city can you hear the same person call your mom a whore(and mean it), and also call you his brother(and mean it), in the space of a single day?

If this sounds like a biased paean unto Delhi, it’s not. I’m not even a “Delhi boy”. I’ve only been here for 5 years, and much of what I adore about it comes from the books I’ve read on it, the stories I’ve heard from the 60s-90s, the Mughal magnificence casually scattered around, the conversations I overhear in the metro and ‘the food’. I’m reminded of what Vir Sanghvi once wrote in one of his columns: “When a new restaurant opens up in Mumbai, people go to be seen. When it opens up in Delhi, people flock there for the food”.(Delhi’s inclination to ‘be seen’ is no less, but let’s keep the Delhi-Mumbai debate for another time.) In most other cities, food is a part of the plan. In Delhi, plans get made around food.

What struck me most about Delhi, and this might explain that intense love for food, was this fierce desire that you see everywhere. Be it for the nihari at Jama Masjid, for labels and brands, for sex- which made for ugly, depressing stories when someone refused.