The Walled City encyclopaedia.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

No “tiny tot” is setting foot this morning into the lane, though its gateway bears a large red hoarding of ABC Tiny Tots. The “school for little kids” lies towards the dead-end of the lane, where the lane expands into a little square.

Gali Dilsukh Rai Khajanchi is one of the many tributary lanes of the much larger Gali Charkhewalan. The street has understandably taken its name from some long-ago figure who must have been a khajanchi, or treasurer. But treasurer of whom or what—who can tell?! Truth be told, most Old Delhi lanes named after figures of long-ago past have no longer anything left to say on the life of those same figures. The once-illustrious personalities today lie forgotten; their identities collapsed into a street name alone. This is true for streets like Gali Shiv Prasad, Gali Wazir Beg, Gali Sham Lal, Sadak Prem Narayan, Katra Khushal Rai, Katra Todar Mal, Chatta Aaga Jaan, and so many more similarly named streets. Exceptions exist, such as the David Street in Daryaganj. We know who David was, because the descendants of David continue to live on David Street (they have already been profiled on this page some years ago).

After talking to a few passers-by accosted at Gali Dilsukh Rai Khajanchi, it emerges that the descendants of Dilsukh Rai Khajanchi continue to be the dwellers of the street. One helpful citizen points out the door of the descendants’ house. The doorbell is duly rung. The door opens, the man behind the door modestly confirms that he is indeed the descendant of the man who gave his name to the street. Sanjay Mahendra escorts the unexpected visitor through a long corridor. A lady in salwar suit and cardigan is sitting on the living room sofa; she is Vandana, his wife.

Graciously acceding to a request, Sanjay lays out his family tree. “My father is Roop Krishen, his father was Shri Krishen Das, and his father was Dilkhush Khajanchi, who must have been a treasurer.” These days, Sanjay stays at home, taking care of his elderly father, while Vandana works in the accounting department of a Chandni Chowk establishment. The friendly couple remark that the interiors of their house until recently used to resemble a haveli, “but times have changed, and it is difficult to take care of the old-style architecture, so some years ago we renovated our house into a modern flat.” The husband and wife now bring forth a wooden frame. It shows the engraved portrait of a man attired regally in what appears to be an elaborate kaftan. He is Dilsukh Rai Khajanchi ji, Vandana says, explaining that the artwork has been with the family for more than a hundred years. The couple graciously agree to pose with the precious heirloom, that too outside their house on special request, in the very street named after their esteemed ancestor.