Sensing the village life. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] How could such a small neighbourhood have so many layers? Hauz Khas Village in South Delhi is not only known for its clubs. As well as boutiques, galleries, curio shops and monuments. But it has even more to offer during a late-night stroll along its lanes. Tonight one might stumble upon poignant contrasts befitting a large city suffering from huge disparities. A boutique with glass walls is well lit, providing a clear glimpse of extravagant clothing costing a fortune. Outside the shop sits an elderly homeless man begging for a few coins. Further along the lane are friendly young men insisting the pedestrians to patronize the clubs and restaurants they’re working for. Some of these

Occupy South Delhi Movement. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The lanes are tidier and even the air feels less poisonous. Of course, it has to be one of those South Delhi neighbourhoods where lucky residents can live out lives of self-contained privilege. Or that’s what it seems to outsiders. Whatever, one can at least take a soothing walk to taste a world beyond one’s reach. That’s why this lazy stroll about the community park nestled inside the E block of Greater Kailash Enclave 1. The most stunning sight is of a banyan tree standing by the garden’s west-facing boundary—so grand that its gracious aerial roots look like fairy tale heroine Rapunzel’s hair. This afternoon, everyday problems seem so far away here in this

Finding truth. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Perhaps, just perhaps, some sort of Ultimate Truth can be discovered by simply walking around a lake. So suggested a great American poet. Who wouldn’t resist putting Wallace Steven’s hypothesis to the test by sauntering around that truly lovely lake in Lodhi Garden? To be sure, there are preconditions. For starters, the magic only happens on cold and smoggy evenings. And, the park needs to be relatively empty in order to plunge you straight into melancholy. Yes, sadness. But, fear not. As you walk around the lake, its comely countenance almost instantly transforms your gloom into a kind of exuberance. On this chilly evening Lodhi Garden is nearly devoid of visitors and food hawkers, and even its resident

A 5 am stroll. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] A stroll through the red-light district is not everybody’s cup of tea. Definitely not so early in the winter morning when it is still dark. Even so. You could start your walk from Hanuman Mandir where the young priest is preparing for the morning aarti, and the temple cow is already awake. Further ahead, a few sex workers are lounging in a corridor that runs along the entire stretch, awaiting customers. One woman in a shawl is perched alongside a small fire rustled up from twigs and paper scraps. Introducing herself as Julie, she says her work shift “normally begins at midnight, and I’ll return to my kamra (room) one hour later.” She gestures

Up views. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The truth is this: Historic Old Delhi can be frustrating for outsiders. Amid all the monuments and bazaars, how do you go about detecting the domestic world of locals getting on with their lives? Well, here’s one trick. While walking along the Walled City’s by-lanes, keep your head perched upwards. Many homes are tucked above the storefronts. A more private world exists up there, and you’ll encounter plenty of it through their windows and balconies. A woman is now curiously peering out from her sun-dappled window here in Galli Chooriwallan, while over there a guy is shaving in his balcony; even as an elderly woman, perhaps his mother, is shelling peas. One window in Matia Mahal Bazar is

Early morn world. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] There’s something surreal about cold season mornings when the dark light feels like midnight. The clock just struck about five. The November air is veiled in mistiness. Or is that smog? Nevertheless, even if it is pollution, the scene is looking beautiful as if you have entered inside an abstract painting. The early morning walk on central Delhi’s Baba Kharak Singh Marg is capable of invoking such surrealism. Start the stroll from the Gol Dak Khana traffic crossing. The spires of the colonial-era Sacred Heart Cathedral are still shrouded in semi-darkness. A wheel-chaired citizen is sound asleep near the cathedral gates, his head plopped on the arm rest. While another gentleman walks past

The colonial-era way. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Most British-built neighbourhoods, avenues and streets in our fair city of Delhi have been stripped of their original English names. (Goodbye colonialism!) Post-Independence rulers made certain that Curzon Road, for instance, gave way to Kasturba Gandhi, while Lady Willington Park became Lodhi Gardens. But not all names were changed. Within walking distance of Lodhi Gardens is tranquil lane going past the elegant Cornwallis Colony. Lord Charles Cornwallis was Governor General of British India best known to us for his wars with Tipu Sultan (there’s even a famous painting of him receiving Tipu’s two sons as hostages in the year 1793). He went on to establish a Sanskrit college in Benares and India’s first

A good walking guide. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It’s customary for people to walk through their city’s historic quarters while holding on to informative guidebooks. Delhi is blessed to have inspired many fine novels and these works of fiction too must be exploited as unconventional walking guides. First published in 1940 by Virginia Woolf’s Hogarth Press, Ahmed Ali’s novel Twilight in Delhi is a sophisticated flâneur’s ideal guidebook to Old Delhi. Keep a copy of the Twilight in your back pocket during your walk and fish it out at appropriate locations. For instance, on reaching Pahari Rajaan lane in Chitli Qabar Chowk, flip to page 14 (of the old OUP paperback edition): “The air was filled with the shouts of the

Signs of a locality. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] At first glance, this South Delhi village seems very unremarkable as a cluster of ordinary lanes and dwellings. But like so much else in Delhi, Hauz Rani reveals its magic slowly but surely. A simple stroll along the street going past Badi Masjid offers an indication of beauty in the shape and content of signboards. Painted in often fascinating fonts, the boards provide tantalising clues to the neighbourhood’s inner life. Of course, you can’t avoid noticing all those “To Let” posters basically targeted at young single professionals who work in nearby malls and hospitals. And if you turn up in the morning when most shops are closed, you’ll spot a painted shutter giving directions

Another country. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This is a sudden dive into peacefulness. As if you have not entered into a mere lane but a region of light and void and silence. The very air feels on snooze mode making you wonder if the clock too has slowed. The main road slicing through the Furniture Market in Gurgaon’s Jacobpura is blessed with a harmonious flow of pedestrians, scooters and rickshaws. This afternoon it is marooned in a padding of cosy clatter. The unnamed lane lies on this road so discreetly that its opening is barely noticeable to a passerby. This afternoon the lane is lying resignedly like a meditative prisoner in solitary confinement. It terminates into a cul-de-sac after a distance