You are here
Home > Hangouts >

City Obituary – Salim Tea Stall, Matia Mahal Bazar

City Obituary - Salim Tea Stall, Matia Mahal Bazar

Death of a chai khana.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Some places go away discreetly, making no fuss. One day they are here among us. Next day, gone. Their presence is stitched so seamlessly into the fabric of our everyday world, that it takes some time to be aware of their absence.

The long-time Salim Tea Stall—more like a tea house— shut down unnoticed some months ago, It was located in Old Delhi’s Matia Mahal Bazar, close to the monumental Jama Masjid, a very touristy area. Almost every eatery and guest house here, every stall and shop, is so concentratedly curated for the tourists that a great part of the stretch has nothing spiritually common with the more inward galis and kuchas of the old quarter.

With its large seating space furnished with many tables and chairs, Salim Tea Stall stood out in not trumpeting its Purani Dilli ambiance. It pulsated to the Walled City’s modernising ethos, didn’t pretend any nostalgia, and earnestly strove to be a place where you came for chai and rest. The customers would be mostly men from the vicinity—labourers, bakers, carpenters, painters, poets, hawkers, traders, and neighbourhood idlers. Rarely any tourist or Instagram influencer would be seen.

While it was a custom at Salim’s to share the table with strangers, a customer was able to spent an entire day marinating in his own soliloquy, or eavesdropping on fellow customers’ chatter. One evening an elderly chai drinker was sighted, his head crowned with a grand turban. He was visiting from Kandahar in Afghanistan. Another day, two gents were squabbling about money matters, amiably sharing biscuits from the same plate. Another morning, during the cold months, a blue-eyed man in Kashmiri pheran was loudly muttering to himself in what must have been the language of Kashmir. He had brought his own roti for breakfast. Salim Tea Stall rarely objected to customers bringing outside eatables, though the cook did make tasty omelette toast. At 12 rupees, the tea was ok. The gentleman preparing the tea, the polite Muhammed Alam, would always be in a black apron.

This evening, Salim’s successor—Al Zehra eatery—is packed with family diners busy over kebabs and tikkas. The new place looks fancier. It has better seating, brighter lighting, and there is an even an AC. The establishment has presumably thrown away Salim’s A-4 size wall poster that said:

“Chai se chahat
Chahat se pyar
Pyar se zindagi
(From chai to attraction
Attraction to love
Love to life)”

PS: The photo was snapped in 2022.

Top