A disappearing element. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Consisting of an arch-shaped niche built into the wall, taak is an element of old architecture, now lost to history. Fortunately, a few can still be seen around Delhi, and especially in the traditionally built homes in the Walled City. A taak is generally placed at the centre of the wall, and meant to be used as a shelf to keep something sacred on it — such as the Quran or a tasbih (prayer beads). In the evenings, it is also the place in many households where the agarbatti (incense stick) is lit as part of a sufi tradition. In the old days, when Delhi homes had no Western-style furniture and people sat

Lovely but unloved. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This window in theory should be listed in guidebooks, looking directly down on Chitli Qabar chowk—one of those rare squares in Old Delhi. But your chances of a glimpse are next to null unless you happen to know physiotherapy student Kabeer Jhinjhianvi. This amazing view is captured from his bedroom window. Irony of ironies--he himself has seen the sight so many times he’s become more or less inured. “It’s just a window,” he mutters, shaking his head amusedly. The boy’s window offers a panoramic view of the square: biryani sellers perched beside their giant brass cauldrons…customers outside Diamond Bakery that makes Delhi’s best rusks…the balloon and bangle sellers, and of course all those pedestrians

A lady's reading couch. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Hers is not a home filled with books. Not in the least. But designer Elena Tommaseo, 55, has created a truly beautiful reading spot. She’s topped a drawing room couch with an elegant Gujarati patchwork spread acquired from a handicraft shop in Paharganj, and with bookshelves on both sides that are stacked up with paperbacks collected over the 10 years of her life in this city. The lighting is so discreet that much of the space is immersed in cool darkness. Inevitably, visitors to her house in south Delhi’s East of Kailash are so drawn to this reading corner that Ms Tommaseo sometimes is obliged to hold “impromptu picnics” on what she calls her “reading

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