A dormitory for pigeons. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Question of the day: where, in fact, do the city pigeons sleep? Truth is that they’re bound to sleep in all sorts of unlikely places, like window ledges. In Old Delhi, where keeping pigeons is a hobby, they often live in giant cages installed on rooftops. But then there’s Galli Sooiwallan street in the Walled City where some residents have set up a kind of free public dormitory for the birds. For instance: Small wooden boxes are stacked above the beautifully arched gateway of a private dwelling. “These boxes are their home, but they’re of course free to fly about when they want to,” explains a local dweller. “And they simply return to the

Fleeting dwellings. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Vasundhara in Ghaziabad in the Greater Delhi Region is a cluster of residential towers. But this particular housing is too modest. The four homes share a common roof, and this roof is just a long sheet of tin supported on planks of plywood. The tin is made to lean against the concrete wall of an apartment building. And this morning the inhabitants—they are daily wage labourers—are lounging outside their houses. The entrance to each home is curtained by empty rice sacks. The kitchens are outside in the open and consist of earthen stoves. A light blue plastic is spread over the tin roof as protection from the rain. The covering is littered with all sorts

Monsoon dwelling. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It’s hardly more than a lean-to. But the recent addition of an awning means the world for the little family. “We recently got that awning from a tea stall owner,” explains Irfan. He’s a ragpicker who lives under the new roof with his wife and little son, here on Lodhi Road. One disadvantage: the shadows of tree leaves thrown on the yellow plastic cover at night by the nearby streetlight frighten their child. “He thinks they are animals, and starts to cry,” says Irfan. “We have to then distract him with toffee or cheeni-chawal.” Indeed, at this late hour, the plastic surface looks strangely magical as the slight breeze causes the leaves, and hence their shadows,

The story of a home. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It’s hard to imagine getting a better sense of Delhi than by viewing it from on high. And particularly a panoramic view of a favoured neighbourhood like Mehrauli. Featuring countless ruins going back multiple centuries in time. Now: In theory you’d want to view Mehrauli from the very top of the impressive 13th Century Qutub Minar tower. Sadly, it’s locked up. But there are any number of multi-floor apartment complexes offering views. Not everyone can access these private spaces but here you are—on your way upstairs to this 5th story roof and gaze down upon Mehrauli, all lushly green. A clear view of the noted Mehrauli Archeological Complex reveals various monuments, though from this

A prized window. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] At first glance this room seems a bit the worse for wear. Creaky door. Fading paintwork on the walls. So what? The glass window in this room looks straight out onto the iconic Jama Masjid mosque, making it one of Delhi’s most prized private views. Now, of course, there are prized windows elsewhere in Delhi. Those expensive Nizamuddin East apartments, for instance, offer breathtaking views of Humayun’s Tomb. But this window is somehow more appealing, with extremely close proximity to the grand Mughal-era mosque where you can spot sightseers sitting on its stone stairs. Tenants of prized rooms like this tend to have every aspect of the space focused toward that view. Not so in the

The story of a home. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Old abandoned houses tend to become hauntingly surreal in their dilapidation. Despite being stereotyped as a fantasy land of high-rises and multi-storey apartments, the Futuristic City of Gurgaon in the National Capital Region has a remarkably good enough share of these relics. And now, here’s the most extraordinary of them all, situated, understandably, in the old parts of the city, at Roshanpura. The house is extensively damaged, as if one night it was simply bombed out of existence by a fighter jet. The roof is missing. So are the rooms. But some walls are still intact, with their shelves and niches. One has the imprints of a staircase that no longer exists.

Baby's swing. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Baby Aslam is lying snugly in his padded swing hanging from a tree while Mom keeps a watchful eye out for him. “He’s just turned three months,” says content-looking Firdaus, a ragpicker in her early 20s who lives on this very central Delhi pavement together with her husband, also a ragpicker, and their three other children hovering about. Her husband is still working, she explains, adding that they often leave all their kids to the care of fellow pavement residents. Without any hesitation whatsoever. “I made the cradle myself, just took a day to sew it up,” reveals Firdaus without betraying any hint of pride in her skills. She managed to obtain a baby car

Jacob's ladder. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Staircases are surely one of the great human inventions though there is no knowing just when the world’s first staircase was built. Neither is it clear which civilisation came up with the radical idea to build something for easily navigating a vertical distance. In modern times, the proliferation of lifts and escalators has made the very idea of staircase a bit dated. Even so, seedhiyaan continue to be built as emergency fire exits and similar such utilitarian necessities. It’s easy to forget that these functional stairs can also be things of incredible beauty. Such as the grand stairway at L’Opéra in Paris or, closer to home, the sweep of stairs at the Polish

A family with dogs. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This industrious family of ragpickers manages to earn around 10,000 rupees every month, which they reckon is sufficient for themselves and their three dogs--Kaloo, Laloo and Julie. But, on this warm February afternoon, Mintu and his cheerful family are just taking it easy, basking under the deliciously warm sun. Otherwise, they’re mostly patrolling Central Delhi avenues picking up discarded bottles. “We leave all our things on the pavement while foraging and our dogs look after them,” explains his wife Sabeeta. “They are our rakshaks (protectors).” Along with their two sons, the couple has been living in the city for years, picking rags every day, with all family possessions crammed into a little cart—blankets

A house in Delhi. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] There are as many staircases in the big house as there are sights of the Walled City from the roof. This is the Old Delhi home of Arshad Ali Fehmi and his wife, Sheeba Aslam. He, in his words, is an activist “trying to revive the pristine glory of the Jama Masjid with the help of likeminded people”. She is pursuing a PhD thesis on the “Absence of Protest among Indian Muslim Women Post-Shah Bano.” The couple lives with their son, Omaiyer, a restaurateur and university student. Their home in Chhatta Sheikh Mangloo offers a half-view of the grand Jama Masjid. Spread over 500 square yards, it has 25 rooms, two courtyards and