Photo Essay – Delhi Dream, Scindia House
The Indian reality.
[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
This man. Barefoot.
The Delhi Walla spotted him one late morning in Scindia House, Connaught Place. He was sleeping in the corridor. His mouth was half-open.
The man’s makeshift pillow consisted of a giant plastic sack filled with – I presume – waste materials like discarded shopping bags and empty cardboard boxes.
(Perhaps he was a rag collector).
His legs were clumsily bandaged with handkerchiefs. His shirt was torn. His right armpit was exposed. An animal (was it a lamb?) was tattooed on his arm.
A peepal leaf had fallen beside his feet.
The man was lying close to another India. A Toyata was parked a few inches away from him. A publicity hoarding showed stacks of gold coins. The office-goers were walking down the corridor in quick succession. Some were busy on their mobile phones.
The traffic on the adjacent Kasturba Gandhi Marg was moving smoothly. A green Delhi Transport Corporation bus turned towards the Regal Cinema building almost noiselessly.
The man continued to sleep. Perhaps this was his only escape from his life in Delhi.
Dreaming in Delhi