One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] When does Bhai Wali sleep? The tall, slim, elderly insomniac is always seen sitting fully alert on a battered chair, at all times of the day and night, here at a corner of Mohalla Qabristan Chowk in Old Delhi, beside Munna Roti Wale, in front of the locked entrance to a dusty cobwebbed room that once was Maulana Aagan Chai Khana. Bhai Wali’s smouldering Gopal beedi is as much an extension of him as his long white beard. “I was married to Gold Flake. Then my fate stepped in and I could no longer afford cigarettes.” The broody talk is deceptive. Bhai Wali has a biting sense of