Delhi’s Proust Questionnaire – Suraj, Central Delhi Delhi Proustians by The Delhi Walla - February 24, 20260 Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] His name means sun in Hindi. This afternoon, Suraj is walking in a central Delhi site, close to a high-rise-in-progress. A Bachelor of Fine Arts in Sculpture, 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. What would be your greatest misfortune? If my parents stop trusting me. My father, Om Prakash ji, and my mother, Meena Devi ji, are farmers in our village Usti in Bihar’s Siwan district. They have always trusted my dedication to be an artist, they have a belief in my struggles to become a sculptor and painter. They support
City Landmark – Dr. Shyama Prasad Mukherjee Civic Centre, Central Delhi Landmarks by The Delhi Walla - February 23, 20260 The Walled City encyclopaedia. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] At Turkman Gate Chowk, the eye first naturally settles on Turkman Gate—a seventeenth-century stone fragment holding its ground against traffic, cables, and the chaos of street life. For years, the view toward the gateway’s west-facing side, overlooking the historic Ramlila Maidan, was choked by construction. The recent demolition of those “encroachments” has opened up the sightline. While standing at the stone gateway, you can now directly spot the Ramlila Maidan pavilion built to receive Elizabeth II in 1961—a structure so modest it can easily be overlooked. What now dominates the setting is the vertical concrete beyond: the Dr. Shyama Prasad Mukherjee Civic Centre (see photo). At 112 metres, this glass-and-concrete tower
City Walk – Gali Unchi Masjid, Old Delhi Walks by The Delhi Walla - February 21, 20260 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
City Monument – White Marble Chausath Khamba, Hazrat Nizamuddin Basti Monuments by The Delhi Walla - February 19, 20260 Delhi in immortal marble. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Great poet Mirza Ghalib was born in the city of Taj Mahal, that Mughal-era marble monument to romantic love. His karam-bhoomi however was Delhi, where he spent his long life composing poems on pyar-prem-ishq. But here’s the irony. Ghalib did not compose a single ghazal on the lovely Taj. Even so, his grave in Delhi stands beside the world’s first Mughal monument built entirely of marble. That said, while Delhi is a city crowded with monuments, only a few of them are constructed entirely of marble, though many monuments incorporate it among other materials. The city’s handful of all-marble structures includes the Moti Masjid inside the Red Fort, the Diwan-i-Khas within the
City Food – Desi Boy Chai Wala, Delhi Gate Bazar Food by The Delhi Walla - February 17, 20260 Tea House of poetry. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Hindi words are displayed in English letters—Kadak Chai. The sign is made from thermocol and sprinkled with shiny multi-coloured tinsel. It resembles a school project—one of those assignments given by a crafts teacher that are completed at home with generous help from parents or elder didi-bhayya. The blingy sign actually belongs to a uniquely lyrical tea house. To start with, the place in Old Delhi’s Dilli Gate Bazar has a most unusual name. The name “Desi Boy Chai Wala” is painted boldly in blue and yellow across a black banner. The real wonder is within the tea house. The tiled walls and the glass shelves are pasted over with handwritten pages
Delhi’s Proust Questionnaire – Ajay Kumar, Ghaziabad Delhi Proustians by The Delhi Walla - February 16, 20260 Portrait of a citizen. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Picking up a customer in Ghaziabad, cab driver Ajay Kumar introduces himself as someone who spent the past few years driving a city bus. He mostly drove bus route 85, which runs between Anand Vihar and Punjabi Bagh. He 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 your present state of mind? It is my first day at Uber, and I am carrying my first customer. I feel anxious about using the app on my mobile phone. For the first few rides, I may need help from the customer to chose the right
City Walk – Katra Buddhan Rai, Old Delhi Walks by The Delhi Walla - February 16, 20260 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
City Nature – Pilkhan Tree, Shivaji Stadium Bus Terminus Nature by The Delhi Walla - February 13, 20260 On Delhi arbor. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The stage performer begins to dance. Arms whirl in widening circles, movements so rapid that they blur into a halo of motion, as if dozens of arms have suddenly surfaced. That is what the pilkhan tree at the Shivaji Stadium bus terminus in Connaught Place (CP) feels like. Its numerous branches seem to multiply in the air, fanning outward in restless energy. In brief, the tree is extraordinary, demanding a concentrated viewing both from up close, and from across the road. Up close, its architecture surprises the viewer. The trunk is massive in girth yet unexpectedly short, rising barely to knee-height before splintering into a network of sub-trunks. These sub-trunks climb a little higher
City Nature – February Light, Around Town Nature by The Delhi Walla - February 12, 20260 Season's luminosity. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Amar Colony shop is shuttered at the moment. Being mid-morning, the sun has already risen. A small triangle of gold light is glistening on the shop’s corrugated metal shutter. In that fragment lies a persistence and fragility. Delhi’s daylight turns exceptional twice a year. In October, after the monsoon clears the sky, and before the winter smog arrives. And now, in February, after the cold haze lifts, and before the summer dust could alter the texture of the air. The daylight becomes almost glassy. You cannot notice this light by looking up at the sun. It is perceived where it is interrupted—on walls, cloth, stone. Then the light breaks into a pattern, showing its
City Life – Power Cables, Old Delhi Life by The Delhi Walla - February 11, 20261 The mystery behind the trapped moon. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] As Ramzan approaches, Matia Mahal Bazar in Old Delhi is getting dressed up for the season. Fairy lights and decorative frills are being strung across the street. But these festive ornaments are inserting themselves into the street’s permanent attire: the looping, sagging power cables that criss-cross overhead. Together, they are making the market feel denser and more claustrophobic than ever, as though the sky itself has been pulled down into the street. The queer thing about these perilously dangling cables is their invisibility. They are everywhere—more visible, in fact, than the monuments and landmark shops of the Walled City—yet they barely register. Instagram reels ignore them. Guidebooks remain silent. Tourists