Capital's capital check-in. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] A cartoon creature stands in the lobby of The Ashok. Two antennae rise from its forehead. It wears sunglasses and shorts, pulling a suitcase with one hand and holding up an Indian passport with another. At its feet glow the words: #THEASHOK@70. The government-run 5-star hotel turns 70 next month. For much of those seven decades, “all the world’s a stage” might have been written for the Ashok. The world came to Delhi, much of it passing through here: kings and presidents, film stars and writers, diplomats and politicians, wedding parties and conspirators. The hotel was built in 1956 on a jungle hill to accommodate delegates to a Unesco conference that November. Prime Minister

Familiar figures. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Do you, dear reader, know of the six travellers who for many years have been waiting to leave Delhi from Indira Gandhi International Airport? The four adults and two children have been standing all this time at Terminal 3. Around them, other travellers pass by, dragging suitcases, craning their necks to look at the blinking flight display panels, checking phones and passports, whilst hurrying towards the terminals. But these six remain where they are. These travellers are metallic sculptures. They were fleetingly mentioned in this space about a decade ago, and have stood on the same spot ever since, part of a collection of artworks installed around the hall, though few passengers stop to look

Scent of a scoop. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Why is the Press Club of India’s most prominent portrait that of a foreigner? It hangs above the club’s stately wooden staircase, overlooking the mid-landing. In the black-and-white photograph, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman is raising a hand in greeting. A plaque describes him as the Father of the Nation of Bangladesh. Upstairs is the explanation. One of the halls there is called the Bangabandhu Media Centre. It was inaugurated in 2021 by a visiting Bangladeshi minister to mark the 50th anniversary of his nation’s independence. The portrait was unveiled at the same time. The members-only Press Club of India is a classic Delhi institution. Located at 1, Raisina Road, in the heart of Central Delhi

Leaves of wings. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The dead tree has no leaves. The leaves have been replaced by birds, hundreds of birds. This rainy afternoon, every branch is occupied. Black kites sit almost wing to wing along the tree's bare limbs. Every few seconds a bird takes off, a bird lands. Some birds arrive carrying twigs in their claws. Others sit motionless for minutes. The tree stands beside the busy Lodhi Road in Central Delhi, flanked by trees. The crowns of the neighbouring trees are thick with green leaves. They may hold just as many birds, but their leaves conceal them. This bare tree displays every visitor. Beside the tree is a dump yard strewn with food refuse, including chicken and

Time and Protest. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Jantar Mantar has two lives. One belongs to the sky. The other belongs to the street. Today, the street has reclaimed it once again. Young people gather outside the 18th century observatory demanding accountability in education, among other things. The slogans of their movement rise above the yellow police barricades, drifting towards a set of structures built to observe a different kind of movement. Jantar Mantar was built to chart the movement of planets, predict eclipses and measure time. In independent India, perhaps because the observatory stands close to our Parliament, the area beside it became the place where generations of Indians came to stage protests, hoping this was where power might finally listen. Raised

On a place-name. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Place-names in Purani Dilli, belonging to streets, mohallas, and markets, are fiercely individualistic. They preserve memories of occupations, vanished landmarks or long-forgotten patrons. Sometimes a place acquires identity without acquiring a proper name. Take "Jama Masjid Gate No. 1". The phrase has become a part of the Walled City vernacular. Two distinct places share this same label. First is Gate No. 1 of Jama Masjid, one of the three gateways of the iconic landmark. The other is Gate No. 1 of the underground Jama Masjid Metro Station. One gate serves visitors to the 17th century monument. The other serves commuters of the twenty-first century transport system. Gate No. 1 of Jama Masjid forms

Beyond the baoli. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The old well in Lado Sarai still stands in a corner of the South Delhi village. This afternoon, a few men sit facing it and talking. At first glance, the scene could belong to the era when villagers would gather at the village well to draw water, and to exchange news. But the well no longer supplies water. Its mouth is covered with a metal grille. Residents say there is still water below, but nobody draws from it. Like most of Delhi, the village now receives piped water. Even the village no longer resembles a village of conventional imagination. Quite a few posh-type artists have studios here. That said, wells survive in many of

Chhat of Chatta. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Chatta Sheikh Mangloo, an Old Delhi street that houses the grave of the mystic Sheikh Mangloo, stretches northward from beneath the shadow of Jama Masjid's southern tower. Yet a citizen walking through the street would catch no glimpse of Old Delhi's signature monument. Hemmed in by tightly packed multi-storeyed buildings, the cramped lane teems with crowds, commerce, and noise, and shows no glimpse of the aforementioned historic edifice. As if the centuries-old stone structure towering above it belongs to some distant, rumoured world. Consequently, the street is so close to a great monument, yet so far. Whatever, the word chatta of Chatta Sheikh Mangloo refers to a private bridge-like structure that spans over

She breaks the glass ceiling. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Delhi University’s St. Stephen’s College breaks a glass ceiling. The new principal will be a woman. Best wishes, Professor Susan Elias! Here are some Stephanian kissa-kahanis to mark this iconic moment. The college takes its name from Christianity’s first martyr, who was stoned to death outside Jerusalem’s city walls for his faith. Another Delhi University college named after a martyr is Shaheed Bhagat Singh College; Bhagat Singh’s martyrdom of course had a fierce anti-colonial, patriotic intent. The college traces its origins around our first war of independence of 1857, when even the British must not have realized they would remain in India for the next 90 years. The college started as a

Double milestones. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The building changes over the course of the day. At peak sunlight, the roof of the terrace expands. The edges loosen from the concrete and extend outward. This, of course, is impossible. A building cannot shift its shape. And yet it appears to do just that. Thanks to the way it is designed, especially in relation to daylight and shadows. This shifting terrace feels like a suitable reason to revisit the building today. As this day Delhi marks the intersection of two milestones: the 114th birth anniversary of architect Joseph Stein with the 75th year of Triveni Art Gallery, the first major Delhi building that Stein designed. Triveni Kala Sangam must rank among Delhi’s most wondrous