The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] There must be a tap somewhere. The cramped lane is, after all, called Gali Nal Wali. Yet no nal, or tap, shows up in this dark street in Old Delhi. At the entrance, two guesthouses flank the alley. One bears a large painting that briefly transports you to some town in Luxembourg or Netherlands—trams, elegant façades, buildings in a European style. The lane is wide at first, then narrows. It grows darker as the lane further constricts, the buildings on both sides blocking out the sky. As in many Old Delhi lanes, the gali is lined with arched doorways and slanting staircases—until you reach a building unlike the rest. The interior here is

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] One long, walled alley is painted blue; another, green; a third is divided between grey and white. In all of them, the paint curls and flakes from the walls. Katra Nizam ul Mulk sits in the heart of Old Delhi, yet feels spiritually removed from it. Consider its setting in Old Delhi’s street layout: here stands the iconic Jama Masjid. Facing it runs the main road of Urdu Bazar, daily choked with nightmarish traffic, so noisy, so chaotic that no peace survives near it. Along its edge lies a narrow alley, easy to miss and easy to dismiss. This is Katra Nizam ul Mulk. On steeping into the lane, it first tapers,

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] So quiet. Kucha Seth is one of Old Delhi’s more serene streets. It is also very deceptive. For without any warning, its tail end drops you into the chaos of hyperkinetic Dariba Kalan. Dariba! Daribe! Rings a bell?!—some of us of course have heard of Dariba Kalan from the blockbuster song “Kajra Re,” featuring the Bachchan family stars. The lyrics passingly mention the street, along with another Purani Dilli locality. Whatever the reference, pricey jewellers dominate this bazar lane, dealing in gold, silver, pearls… in fact, the street is said to derive its name, “Dariba,” from a Persian phrase meaning “priceless pearl.”* Priceless indeed is the hoarding of one jewellery shop. It carries

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Here’s the street of the well-moneyed. At least the street shows its wealth in name, if not explicitly so in appearance. For the word seth in Kucha Seth refers to a wealthy man; while kucha denotes a locality of people sharing an occupation. Indeed, quite a few building façades here look grave and dignified despite their dereliction, mutely insisting on the street’s former grandeur. This afternoon, a brown dog is sleeping peacefully beside one such building, sleep coming to him as easily as money comes to the well-moneyed. In all, the street is exceptionally photogenic. Every doorway makes you reach for your phone camera. One striking relic bears the inscription Shri Mahavir

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Some citizens relate Ballimaran to the blockbuster film song “Kajra Re,” featuring Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, which mentions the Old Delhi ’hood in passing. But it is another Old Delhi ’hood that truly stands out when it comes to cinema. A full-fledged widely praised film is named after this very street—albeit with a slightly different spelling. Gali Guleiyan, starring Manoj Bajpayee, is set in the lanes of Purani Dilli. Spelled Gali Guliyan, the actual street is short and relatively quiet, marked by a sequence of old lovely doors and closely set facades. Outside the peak summer months, it hosts a steady stream of visitors, especially foreign tourists. Many arrive with guides. Some of these

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This must be the city’s most beautiful barbershop, though it has no name. Its stone portal is flanked by a trio of graceful arches, and stepping through them feels less like entering a place for a quick shave and more like walking into a monument meant for admiration. Gali Dharampura, as this lane is informally known, is among the most picturesque streets of Old Delhi. The lane feels curated, as though shaped by an aesthete determined to keep out the embarrassing aspects of the Walled City. It is oddly orderly, free from the usual intrusions of Old Delhi’s chaos—the noise, crowds, tangles of wires, and impossible traffic of bikes and rickshaws. Walking

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Fluted columns, that are only partially discernible in the dark. Wide arches supporting dust-covered ceilings. And a narrow, corridor-like, lane stretching far into deepened shadows. This afternoon, the lane is filled with scores of men, young and old. Yet, the place is quiet. The blinding sunlight outside sends no message within. It feels like being in an underground vault. But this gali is above ground. The Old Delhi lane is lined exclusively with small shops specialising in motor spare parts. An elderly shopkeeper in white, a graceful and courteous gent, says that “this lane has no name,” explaining that it is considered a part of the Jama Masjid Motor Market, which lies

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The noon sun has created a small, squarish pool of bright light in a corner of Gali Unchi Masjid. The venerable Aneesuddin is sitting within the parameters of this soothing, warm zone. Hands folded over the grip of his walking cane, he is gazing at what looks like a ruin. “That was a house,” he says. Only the building’s back wall remains. The wall’s slim, weathered lakhori bricks show through the plaster, the construction material of another era. “Earlier, all the houses here were made of lakhori,” Aneesuddin says. He has spent his entire life on this street. “I was born in this gali. My baap was born in this gali. My

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Many streets in Old Delhi bear something of their character in their very air. Some streets smell of milky chai from their numerous chai stalls; others of samosas frying in oil, or kebabs on skewers. In the dawn, certain lanes carry the scent of halwa-poori. While every morning from seven to ten, Chitli Qabar Chowk smells of fish, owing to vendor Parvez, who stations his cart at the centre of the crossing. There are also some streets in the historic quarter that are less pleasant, scent wise. But let us confine ourselves to those that are not. Among them, Katra Buddhan Rai street stands out for its striking scent. This afternoon, a