You know you have landed in Delhi when...

• The last disciplined and synchronized activity you see will be the seat belts coming off before the airplane has made a complete halt and mobile phones buzzing to life before the aircraft doors have been opened.
• The sullen guy at the "pre-paid taxi" counter repeatedly mispronounces your name the way only a Haryanvi jat can.
• You see taxi drivers soliciting the "long distance sawaari" from the 20 odd passengers whose trolleys are bumper to bumper, lest someone cut the precious queue.
• When you hear more abuses laced sentences in 10 mins than you heard in the last 10 days. (this is the part when the glamour from "kabhi pyaar mein gaali deta hai" from Delhi-6 comes undone)
• You have every reason to believe the taxi driver when he narrates the grand conspiracy theory which implicates the guards who allocate taxis to passengers, the cops who book those who won't pay the guards and the drivers who pay the guards to get the more lucrative passengers.
• You can't quite decide on what is causing you greater trauma- the sound of 100 horns trying to beat each other at the game of cacophony or the sight of seemingly every other man who thinks that scratching self in public is as natural as breathing.
• You marvel in disbelief at how wide the roads are compared to the excuses Mumbai commutes on.
• You hear the punjabi on the streets, in the neighbourhood and on the radio station and realize how much you missed it.
• You see fat aunties typified by dripping diamonds and still haggling with the kabaadi for 5 bucks.
• Talking to old friends and discussing old favorites such as PVR, Big Chill and Flavors is about the only important and urgent thing in the world.
• You are home and wonder why you left.
• You read about water shortages, electricity problems, 20 rapes, some dozen robberies, water logged roads, cracks in bridges- all in the same day.
• You wonder when you'll ever truly return.