One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The afternoon heat is oppressive, the humidity makes it doubly oppressive. In such a hostile weather, a citizen is sitting on the roadside. A pair of crutches rests beside him. Whenever someone walks past, he quietly raises his arm, gesturing for alms. He introduces himself as Asghar and, after a few minutes of friendly chitchat, settles down to explain how he reached this point in his life. Asghar is from Godda district in Jharkhand. He came to Delhi when he was 12 years old in search of work. His first job was washing dishes in a small eatery. He stayed there for some years. As he grew,

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Countless Delhi roads are named after notable individuals. Few of us Delhiwale stop to consider what these people did to merit this form of immortality on our navigation apps. One such road runs alongside the French Embassy in Chanakyapuri. It is named not after Napolean, nor Proust, but after a French intellectual arguably less familiar to most of us Indians. Yet André Malraux looms large in France’s national imagination. A novelist and statesman, he ranks among the most influential French figures of the twentieth century. His ashes lie in the Panthéon in Paris, the immortal resting place of some of France’s most revered giants, among them Voltaire

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The first thing a passenger notices in the auto rickshaw is that this is no ordinary Delhi auto. It sustains a sprawling world. The auto has two fans, a small LED television, a mirror on the ceiling, a rear-view camera, charging points for mobile phones, free Wi-Fi for passengers, a stack of tissue paper, a couple of newspapers, a pen, mineral water bottles, and the national flag. The back bears a photo poster of the driver himself. Rajesh Sinha, aka Raj Bhai (that’s the name grandly displayed on the auto), has been driving on Delhi roads for more than a decade. The vehicle is a 2015 model, but

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The midday is turning out to be intolerable. The summer air is so searingly hot that even the shirt collar is burning the neck. One wonders how can we the people survive in such hostile conditions. Yet we do. Take this market lane in a Central Delhi locality. It is a blinding white afternoon, and the lane is moderately crowded. Vendors are parked along the street-side, though not a single tree stands on the street. One man is sitting beneath the skeletal shade of a potted plant, his eyes closed. And then there is Arshi, an alm seeker. She sits directly under the sun. No shade near her.

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] In the American film Paterson, the hero, played by Adam Driver, is a city bus driver who writes poetry, earnestly jotting down the lines in a notebook. In Delhi, there is a man as striking as that film actor. Plus, Pawan Kumar Tomar too drives a city bus, with the Delhi Transport Corporation. And he too writes poetry, earnestly jotting down the lines in a notebook. His poems have appeared in the poetry anthology Aaj ke Hindi Kavi (Contemporary Hindi Poets). Indeed, his notebook rests openly on the dashboard beside the steering wheel, a blue-ink pen tucked into its lined pages, ready for use during breaks. “As

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The afternoon heat is as palpable as a solid surface. It is slamming down from the sky, and roaring up from the tarmac. Per the mobile, the temperature is hovering around 41°C. Fruit seller Zareef has a headache. He gulped water a minute ago; he’s thirsty again. This afternoon, the soft-spoken man is selling muskmelons—kharbooja. Even the fruit is hot to the touch. A biker stops, his face covered with a kerchief. “Very sweet, very sweet… 60 rupees a kilo!” The fruit seller murmurs. Zareef is suffering from the prematurely advanced heat of late April, but he isn’t alone. Millions across Delhi are bracing against the same heat.

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] On 14 February, the venerable Bhaichand Patel did not host his annual Valentine’s Day party. In fact, he hasn’t hosted it for three years in a row. This has been a profound setback for the capital’s fashionable set. After all, for over two decades, Bhaichand’s Valentine’s Day party was a fixture on Delhi’s social calendar. The last one, in 2023, convinced him he would never host it again. This afternoon, seated with a glass of white wine in the back garden of his apartment in central Delhi’s Sujan Singh Park—where the mildly warm March air is alive with the chirping of sparrows—he explains why. Many familiar faces

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The entire wall is covered with a woman’s black-and-white portraits. In each one of them, she is dressed in black, and happens to be a mother in grief. This is Andrea Anastasio’s bedroom. The head of the Italian Cultural Centre, Andrea lives in a central Delhi apartment. Hundreds of books fill the home. Dozens of objects—statuettes, paintings, photographs, artful lamps, some designed by Andrea himself—are arranged with the affection of someone who lives among things not as possessions but as companions. Guests to the apartment tend to wander slowly, pause, gaze, often break into small utterances of “wah wah.” But the bedroom is usually private territory. This