His notions of romance are so uniquely Delhi - the monument, the chaatwallah, the odd poem that he may have picked up and the final goodbye at the DTC bus stand.

Egg parathas and block-printed duvets. Hardback tomes and historical monuments. A naughty romp in Lodhi Gardens. Suhel Seth describes the Delhiite's mode of conducting 'the great romance'.

Delhi is known for its political machinations. It is also the town of poorly paid bureaucrats who live like rich men with great inheritances. Then you have the lala ke bacche: kids of rich industrialists who, when they are not mowing down innocent pedestrians, manage to create big news for their cocaine trips. It is also the city of good food, which means rich food. Ghee shee and all that. And now we have become the capital of the 'Great Indian Wedding'. So, do you think Delhi would even have time for romance shomance? Do you think in between going to a politico's melas (called intimate dinners) and running to and from 10 Janpath, anyone would even care to be inclined towards romance? But you'll be surprised; ardour still exists in Delhi. And then, there are the specific clusters of the amorous.

The Flaky Romantic His idea of romance begins and ends with a movie and popcorn and then trying to get into some hanky-panky in the plastic-covered Maruti that he has borrowed from his kitty party mother. This boy has lots of money and is willing to shower it on the girl he loves. So what if he loves a different girl every night. There is more than just one movie playing at a multiplex, remember.

The evening always starts with the girl getting into an auto. She then heads for the movie hall and never waits outside in case Aunty Kukoo sees her and then spreads the bad word in the colony. She almost always goes into a bookstore and inspects the comics section: Delhi is as removed from books as Mumbai is from decent cinema! Being winter, the girl is very warmly clad. Overcoat on top. Nothing below. Then the movie begins and the handholding is in full flow. Nothing more is allowed. They all come from respectable families. Now, depending on how much money you have, you either take her to the coffee shop or buy her an egg-paratha outside IIT Delhi. In fact, more people in Delhi respect the IIT for the egg-paratha than the people they produce! The South Delhi romantic is suave. He has replaced Daler Mehndi with Rabbi. He wears Red Tape shoes instead of Bata. He wears Tommy instead of Pringle. And is known to keep agarbattis in his car so that Papaji doesn't smell the cigarette smoke.

The Deep Romantic This is someone who is very intense. He hasn't forgotten the good old days of Bahadur Shah Zafar and has an inner core. His romances last for more than a week. They are meant to turn into marriage and they will, whenever the poor chap gets a job. Which means never. His idea of romance is watching plays that neither his date nor he can understand but then, it's better than meeting the flake cuddling up to his girl in some seedy cinema hall. Which is why you will find him in Lodhi Gardens: never walking. But just sitting on the bench staring at the monument. Bahadur Shah Zafar's true inheritor. If he were intelligent, he would recite poetry but for the moment he will let his silence speak. This is a mini play that he performs every time in winter. Why winter? Because the sun sets early; it gets dark quicker and the girl doesn't have to take her DTC bus until 6.30 p.m. His notions of romance are so uniquely Delhi - the monument, the chaatwallah, the odd poem that he may have picked up and the final goodbye at the DTC bus stand. Just before the girl goes through another harrowing experience at the hands of the Delhiwallahs: bottom-pinching in the bus! But this is only if you are poor. If you are rich, the concept of romance lasts just three days: the sangeet, the wedding and the reception. After that, your partner does her thing and you do yours.

The Driving Romantic These are people with fast cars and slow cars; their cars and their Daddy's cars. They don't believe in normal romance, their romance includes no monuments just milestones. They are the ones who go to Agra, not to see the Taj Mahal but for a spa treatment at the Amarvilas. Ask them who built the Taj and they just might say Biki Oberoi. But these are the well-heeled romantics whose idea of bliss is getting stuck in winter on a National Highway amidst smog that refuses to go away. Their discussions revolve around the number of cylinders in their car engines rather than how deep their love is. They live life in the fast lane except their idea of lane is not the kind we have. Their lanes are like little mow tracks designed to kill people, even whilst keeping their romance alive. They don't read Mills and Boon: they read car manuals. Their idea of Juliet's balcony is a garage on the first floor and if you ask them about Venice, they'll probably tell you they've seen it in Las Vegas. These are the people who keep the shutterbugs happy. They are the crème de la crème. The ones who keep Delhi's society ticking. They are now moving beyond Agra; some have even ventured as far east as Langkawi - they still don't know which country it is in but, thank God, their travel agent does!

The Cultured Romantic This is a rare breed, which is why it is also much much older. Found in sanatoriums such as the India International Centre, in Delhi, amidst the rubble of old books, sneaking a peek at another 80-year-old from under a copy of the 1947 edition of The Spectator. They are the true diehards. They die with great difficulty; for them romance is about sharing a chicken sandwich without butter. Their idea of alcohol is two straws in a milkshake, just before they embark to dissect Chaucer. They are found in soirées and art exhibitions with their hearts in the right place and just a gentle swing of the eyes, to signal to their partner, that they must sneak away quickly to their warm hot water bottle, firmly ensconced under their Fab India duvet. They are the dreamers. The only other place we find this lot is in Parliament. They too are dreaming of political coups and such like, though never ever about romance!

But then this is romance in Delhi: unique to each cluster, as it should be. Coming alive in winter. When the fog sets in so that you don't even need to bother about what your partner looks like. As long as - just like the Siberian crane - you too have come home to roost. Uh, romance.

Suhel Seth is the CEO of Equus Advertising. He is also a social commentator and writes on current affairs; he does columns for The Asian Age, Hindustan Times and The Financial Express. Seth has acted in over 145 plays, done films for Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen and Mahesh Bhatt and is a regular on the public speaking circuit. He is still a bachelor which is perhaps not surprising since he lives in Delhi!