Dear Delhi, I know you’ve always been a bit confused about who you are. But this is taking the piss. Last night you pretended you were Paris and rolled out French wines and quiche Lorraine. This morning you were dressed up as Singapore, all steam and sweat and rumbling thunder on the horizon. And now, at 2:17pm on a Sunday afternoon, you’re trying to pass yourself off as Dubai, hot baked and boring. What’s with that. Would the real Delhi please stand up. Thanks.