The memorable instant.
[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
They were apparitions in golden dhotis and pink jackets.
One late night The Delhi Walla saw members of the Kirti music band. They were sitting inside a Metro rail coach. The train, running northwards, was somewhere between HUDA City Centre and Samaypur Badli on the yellow line.
Some of these musicians were sleeping. They looked tired. One of them yawned (see photo 6 below). Perhaps they were returning after an exhausting performance in a wedding procession—this is, after all, the cold season of arranged marriages.
The train stopped at a station. A man stepped in with his briefcase. Dressed in black pants and white shirt, he looked light years away from the world of these musicians, who were sleepily holding on to their drums and bells.
As the train approached the busy Rajiv Chowk rail terminus, the musicians regained their alertness. They stood up and gathered towards the automated door. The train slowed down and finally stopped. The automated door opened, the musicians stepped off the coach and instantly vanished into the platform crowd. It was a moment of loss.
Returning from music