Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is five in the morning. This being December, it is still dark, very cold. Tinku is sitting by the deserted roadside, beside a huge sack. He’d spent the last few hours walking along the city, picking up discarded bottles from the streets, piling them in the sack. Later in the morning, he will sell the bottles to a recycler. This is the daily routine of his profession, he says. He graciously agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. The principal aspect of your personality. I’m helpful and caring. I take care of many

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] This evening, in a Connaught Place corridor, Artist Mohini is sitting at her regular spot. She in the midst of a drawing assignment, even as her two daughters hover about her. Half an hour ago, the friendly woman was commissioned to sketch the portrait of a person whose photo was sent to her on her mobile’s WhatsApp. As she continues to draw, her concentrated gaze shuttling between the mobile’s screen and the drawing chart, many passersby slow down to look with a degree of awe at the work-in-progress. Some are even clicking the artist’s photo. But her concentration remains unbreachable. She finishes the portrait in an hour, after which she graciously

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is a soothingly warm sunny afternoon, and she is walking along the city roadside, simultaneously knitting an ear warmer for herself. Continuing to walk and knit, Shahnaz, who works as a street recycler, graciously agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. The principal aspect of your personality. I always speak truth. I’m honest. I don’t fight with anyone. Our lives last just for two days. If we spend it in fighting others, we would leave behind, I think, nothing in the world but resentments. Your favourite qualities in a man. The ability to not give

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is late night. Syed Shahnawaz is manning the rose stall at the historic Sufi shrine of Hazrat Sarmad Shahid in Old Delhi. Following some small talk on the winter chill, he graciously agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. Your favourite flower. Red rose. Your favourite occupation. This rose stall belongs to my baap-dada-pardada (forefathers). For centuries, pilgrims have been buying roses from us to offer at the dargah. I continue the tradition by attending to it for a few hours daily. But my main business is selling fancy lights. My shop is at Bhagirath

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] One polluted evening, she is seen sitting on a bench in Lodhi Garden, under a tree, facing the centuries-old Sheesh Gumbad monument. Instead of looking around at the beautiful sights, she is absorbed in a book. Next evening, she is again sighted, sitting on the same bench, reading the same book. Following an exchange of greetings, Umang graciously agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. What is the principal aspect of your personality? Being alone and enjoying my company. After my parents passed away, I came to the realisation that in the final analysis

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The first thing you notice about him is... well, let’s state it boldly! This neighbourhood grocery-store man must be possessing one of the most winsome smiles among all of us Delhiwale—see photo. This evening, while busy handling the customers, the extremely polite Khushal Sachdeva agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. The principal aspect of your personality. My smile. Your main fault. I get a bit irritated at times. Your favourite occupation. Managing our shop. It was founded by my dadaji, the late Shri Vasudev ji. He had come to Delhi during the partition as a

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Accessed by a metal ladder, the serenely silent office of astrologer and palm reader Satyapal Kapoor in central Delhi’s Paharganj looks like a photo album. The walls are decked with framed collages of photos showing him with foreign clients. Indeed, a substantial number of people who approach him happen to be western backpackers staying in the area’s budget hotels. This evening, the genial man agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. What would be your greatest misfortune? It hasn’t yet happened, but being an astrologer, I have already foreseen it. I will die in

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Wearing a green topi, he describes himself as a darvesh, a fakeer. Seated one night in a remote corner of the Sufi shrine of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya in central Delhi, Javed Ali agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. The principal aspect of your personality. My ability to love everyone. Your favourite qualities in a person. The ability to never be angry. What do you appreciate the most in your friends? All my friendships ended the day I became a fakeer. My only dost is God. I appreciate everything about the God. Your idea of happiness. When I’m with a

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is 10pm. The venerable Ata Ul, a labourer, has already installed the mosquito net over his regular sleeping spot. He always sleeps in this central Delhi market, right outside a shop that gets shuttered by this hour. Sitting cross-legged, the soft-spoken gent graciously agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. Your favourite virtue. The life I lead. Your main fault. Smoking beedi. Your favourite occupation. I’m a mazdoor insaan. I like whatever work I manage to get as a labourer. Never say no to any work. Very often I do packaging assignments in the morning, after which

Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] She is the neighbourhood’s ironing service provider. Barkha has been ironing clothes for 20 years. Every morning, she reaches this posh Delhi colony after a long commute from her home in Meethapur, settling down to administer her park-facing establishment, where she works until six in the evening. Barkha irons 50 clothes daily. During the lunch hour, she heats her home-made subzi by keeping the bowl on the smouldering coals of her hefty iron. This morning, preparing her iron for the day, she agrees to become a part of our Proust Questionnaire series, in which citizens are nudged to make “Parisian parlour confessions”, all to explore our distinct experiences. The principal aspect of