The Walled City enyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] This is Gali Shakeel Artist, just off Old Delhi’s Urdu Bazar. Dear reader, forgive the misleading introduction. The severely weathered marker for the street beside the tea stall calls the street Khidki Tafazzul Hussain—see photo. But surely it would be fitting to name the street after one of Old Delhi’s great living artists, whose workshop stands here and whose art is seen in almost all parts of the Walled City. Our weekly exploration of Old Delhi’s streets, their present and past, begins here with a mystery. The said marker points into the street. Khidki means window. But which window? And who was Tafazzul Hussain? The marker offers no explanation. The name is nowhere else

The Walled City enyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is five in the morning. Most shutters are down, but Ansar Store is aglow in the pre-dawn darkness—see photo. The grocery stays open all night, says the young man at the counter. This is Old Delhi’s Gali Madrasa Hussain Baksh, a dead-end street opening into Matia Mahal Bazar. Only Chacha Chaiwale’s stall is also open this moment. Chacha himself died last year. One of his sons is presently sitting cross-legged beside the stall’s coffee machine. It also serves coffee, a rarity among the Walled City’s chai establishments. The dispatch is a part of The Delhi Walla's weekly series exploring both the present and past of Old Delhi streets. At the gali’s far end,

The Walled City enyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] All the doors on both sides of the lane are shut. A couple have cobwebs around their locks and latches, suggesting they haven’t been touched for a long time. This pre-dawn morning, only cats are moving about Old Delhi’s Gali Sakko Wali. Now a man in grey kurta pajamas is entering from Matia Mahal Bazar, into which the dead-end lane opens. Returning from morning prayers at a nearby mosque, he introduces himself as Farooq Bhai. He is a bawarchi, a cook. Many residents here are bawarchis, he says. Gali Sakko Wali is part of our weekly exploration of Old Delhi’s streets, their pasts and present. The lane’s name recalls the sakko (or sakke)

The Walled City enyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is five in the morning, and the sky is still black. A crescent moon is visible in the narrow wedge of sky between the house roofs. Lamplight is falling on the shutters, leaving stretches of the Old Delhi street in shadow. No crowd fills the silent passage at this hour. The houses are shut, the shops yet to open. Even so, the street feels crowded, being dense with wires, balconies and signboards. At the street’s mouth, where the street meets Matia Mahal Bazar, packets of double roti are heaped on a folding table. Behind it stands Aslam, a dweller of the street. He sells breakfast bread at this hour every day.

The Walled City enyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The name could belong to a resort spa. In bolchal Hindi, chah means desire, and rahat means relief. Presto, Gali Chah Rahat ought to be a place to recover from the exhaustion of daily life. Step into this Old Delhi street, and at every turn yet another curio makes you pause. Much of the gali’s business is in ornamental artefacts. It feels like walking through a craft museum, except that the exhibits can be packed up and sent to your home. This evening, labourers are carrying parcels containing giant sculptures. Others are sitting with chai, briefly relieved of their loads. In one shop, a life-size sculpture of Bhagwan Buddh sits on the floor

The Old Delhi encyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The name leads you elsewhere. Say Rakab Ganj and you think of the great gurdwara in New Delhi, near the old Parliament. But there is another Rakab Ganj, and it is in Old Delhi, behind Delite Cinema. Gali Rakab Ganj happens to be a centre of the meat trade. The name is printed on many of the meat shop signboards here, although the street is better known as Gosht Wali Mandi, the market for meat. This afternoon, many of the shutters are down. The shop-names above the shutters remain on display: Inam Ilahi, Kullu, Haji Mohd Qasim, Haji Shokat. One board gives the address as “Rakab Ganj, behind Delite Cinema”. A romantic

The Old Delhi encyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Lakshmi is standing at her doorway, talking. This is her break between two shifts. She cooks vegetarian food twice a day in a large mansion not far from here. Her mother-in-law worked there before her. After she died, Lakshmi took her place. For now, Lakshmi is at home, in a courtyard at the farthest end of Gali Godoya in Old Delhi. She explains that this is a katra, a courtyard ringed with residences. In earlier times, she says, people of the same profession lived in a katra. Not anymore. Last week, my Old Delhi street series reached its 222nd street. The series aims to chronicle every street in the historic Walled City, recording

The Old Delhi encyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Poetry in some form is everywhere in Gali Qasim Jan. Not the poetry of Mirza Ghalib, who spent his last years on this Old Delhi street, but the poetry of shop names. De Cut Salon. Tip Top Gents Parlour. Grocers Gallery. Rafaa Cafe. Tamanna Guest House. The names hang above the cramped street on boards in English, Hindi and Urdu. Electric wires hang higher. Monkeys travel across shop banners. Much of the street’s old architecture is hidden behind signboards. Above Al Faiz Bakery rises a yellow facade. Projecting wooden beams support the upper floor, where tall wooden screens run along the street-facing front. Below, the overhang rests on a succession of curved brackets.

The Old Delhi encyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] People would slip walking here. The Old Delhi road was notorious for its slippery surface, with fish scales littering the ground. Even scooters would skid. This was Machhiwalon ka Bazar, the fish market whose stalls once crowded the road between Daryaganj and Jama Masjid. The market has long disappeared. A few decades ago, the fish business was shifted to Ghazipur, on Delhi’s eastern edge. Yet the colloquial name survives in conversation, part of muscle memory among Old Delhi wale. The road is now officially called Jama Masjid Road. The wider area, however, is known as Urdu Bazar, recalling the many Urdu bookstores that once lined the road. The name Machhiwalon ka Bazar survives

The Old Delhi encyclopedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Bharat Shocker, Cheena Shocker, New Star Shocker… Step into Gali Garhiya, and almost every signboard bears the word "Shocker." A trader explains that mechanics call a motorcycle shock absorber a shocker. The Old Delhi lane in Matia Mahal owes its name to garraya, a pit that once existed at the end of the street. This rainy afternoon, a grandfather, his son and his son’s son are sitting dry inside a shocker shop. The elder man offers chai, confirming the story about the street's name. He also says that the Walled City has two more streets with this name, in Kucha Chelan and Chitla Gate. As you walk deeper into the cramped lane, it