The Walled City encyclopaedia.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

No, he can’t be that one. The Altaf Hussain of Old Delhi’s Gali Altaf Hussain street cannot be the exiled Pakistani politician who lives in England. For one, the Pakistani Altaf was born after Partition, in the city of Karachi, and has nothing to do with our Delhi (his parents were originally from Agra). Dilli ka Altaf Hussain must be someone else—though no man accosted this afternoon in Gali Altaf Hussain and its vicinity is able to trace the antecedents of the mystery man. The clueless passers-by sportingly suggest that Altaf Hussain must have been an esteemed resident of the street in the early days of the centuries-old Walled City. He is too far removed in time, an elderly gent remarks, to be remembered today.

To think of it, the street’s name should really have been Gali Saleem, for it is flanked by two Saleems. One is Saleem Milk, a hyperlocal dairy that sells various milk products, including karahi ka doodh. This moment, very many platters containing snow-white dahi are stacked one upon another in a corner. The handler at the dairy counter says he is the brother of Saleem, the man after whom the shop is named.

The other Saleem, flanking the other side of the street, single-handedly manages a tailoring establishment. A serene, quiet man, his workshop is filled with dresses: dozens of hangers claim the walls, each holding a brightly coloured ladies’ kurta. He himself is dressed in white. With a measuring tape slung around his shoulders, the tailor says he moved to this address five years ago. Earlier, he worked in the Pataudi House area but had to vacate at the landlord’s urging.

The tailor’s present space, however, has a rich past. It previously housed Abdul Rahim’s halwai confenctionary, and before that, Bhagwat Halwai’s confectionary, he says. Acceding to a request, the tailor graciously steps out to pose for a portrait beside the street signage (see photo).

Indeed, the most striking element in Gali Altaf Hussain is its blue signage, painted on white in Hindi and English. Otherwise, the lane is very short, lined with discoloured walls. The blue paint on one of the walls has partly peeled away, revealing traces of a pale orange layer beneath. Scratch deeper and you might uncover still older coats of paint—each a mute witness to earlier years, perhaps even from the time of the forgotten Altaf Hussain after whom the lane is named.