One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The white hair are standing spindly upon his head, ably covering the bald patch at the center. When the auto rickshaw stops at the Purana Qila traffic light, he turns off the engine, and bends down his head towards the left side, as if in deep thoughts. Perhaps he imagines the wait may be long at this light. It is 3 in the afternoon, very hot. The glare of the daylight hurts the eyes. He has been out of the home since 8 in the morning. Finally, the light turns green. He restarts the engine, his arms are firmly clutching the handles. The auto slowly picks

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Seasoned machines clog up the space of the small room. Their owner is sitting in between. Dressed in a blue pathan suit and a mustard green topi, Reham Ilahi is finishing his lunch. In his early 70s, he takes off his dentures, and keeps them in the empty bowl. His serene, well-fed face with a long white beard now gazes out into the street, here at Gali Qasim Jan, in Old Delhi’s Ballimaran. Turning towards the equipments in his chamber, he says “these are karahi (embroidery) machines… each machine has more than 300 parts, and I make one of those parts.” He points to a school

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The most endearing aspect about the picturesque foot-over bridges that fan out from Pragati Maidan metro station are not those bridges. But a cheery snack vendor who runs a kiosk underneath the bridges, on the broad pavement, beside the traffc light, below a spindly Ashoka tree. Dressed in a purple sari with fluorescent green flower prints, the vendor says she has two names. “In Dilli, my name is Daman; in Chennai, my name is Dhanam,” she discloses. These names correspond to her bonds with two cities separated by miles, cultures, and languages. Speaking in fluent Hindi, Dhanam says she is from Tamil Nadu capital, and is

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Anyone can be sighted with them. Once even the World Bank chief (Paul Wolfowitz) was sighted with torn socks. Auto rickshaw driver Ram Kumar is no exception. He too is wearing such socks. Both the socks are partly torn. Both have holes on the heels. “But I cannot get new socks for now,” he confesses, saying, “There isn’t much earning in auto rickshaw.” It is a hot afternoon and Mr Kumar is lounging on his vehicle’s passenger’s seat. The auto is parked on a roadside, beside a shopping complex in Gurgaon’s Civil Lines in the Greater Delhi Region. Mr Kumar has no intention to shop. “To spend

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Old Delhi alleys are full of uncommon sights. People are often spotted with things not usually seen in other localities—a parrot in the hand, a deg on the head, a goat around the neck. But this sight is the most unusual. This evening a man is carrying a pendulum wall clock in his arms, here in Pahari Bhojla. It looks hefty; he appears to be panting with effort. “I’m taking it to a clock shop in Galli Chooriwallan,” reveals Muhammed Afzal. He decides to take a brief break to catch his breath, and carefully keeps the clock on the back seat of a parked scooter. “It