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

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Virtually every old building in Old Delhi is of slim, narrow bricks known as lakhori. A defining component of Mughal-era architecture, these burnt clay bricks once constituted the weight of entire edifices—havelis, gateways, temples, and mosques. Their decline mirrored the decline of the Mughal Empire, though their era ended much later. One such building dominates Chatta Girdhar Lal, a lane that forms part of the larger Gali Arya Samaj (already been chronicled on these pages). While the lane is mostly lined with well-kept modern houses, this old, dilapidated structure stands abandoned. A broken window gapes onto the street, and an arched niche below is filled with discarded plastic bags, sacks, and broken

On 26 January, 2026. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is the day of the parade. Most of us Indians associate the annual Republic Day parade on 26 January with the stretch along New Delhi’s Kartavya Path. This is the section that passes before an audience of the republic’s top VVIPs and is broadcast live on TV. The parade actually continues beyond this familiar route. Here is a sense of some of the sights that our esteemed paraders will see today as they parade along the historic route. Photo shows citizens trying to get a glimpse of a previous year’s parade as it crosses the Dilli Gate traffic light. After exiting out of Vijay Chowk, Kartavya Path, and India Gate—the

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is one of Old Delhi’s longer streets. Gali Choori Walan extends from Matia Mahal Bazaar to Chawri Bazaar. Along the way, it branches into a web of evocatively named alleys—Gali Surkh Poshan, Gali Mirza Sorayya Jaan, Gali Hakeemji Wali, Gali Joote Wali, Gali Takhat Wali, Gali Manihar Wali, Phatak Deputy Sultan, Gali Magazine Wali, Gali Hafiz Banne Wali—and one alley that carries no name. Yet it is this unnamed alley that is the most notable. Unlike its cousin-alleys, it is not a cul-de-sac. instead, it is a connective corridor binding Gali Choori Walan to Chatta Sheikh Mangloo street. Denied a distinct identity of its own, the alley is dismissed as a

The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Once upon a time there lived a lady in Old Delhi. She remains a mystery. Since this happened a long time ago, no one can tell anything about what kind of a person she was. Nevertheless, a barely known Walled City street is named after the said lady. Gali Mirza Suraiya Jaan is a dead-end street. A very small one at that. The etymologists among us might be tempted to imagine Mirza Suraiya Jaan as a stylish elegant woman wearing lots of chooriyan, or bangles. That is because Gali Mirza Suraiya Jaan is one of the many sub-streets of a much larger street that goes by the name of Gali Choori Walan,