The wall’s account.

[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]

They come in one by one. These silent Delhi men. From morning to midnight. Some are tall with fierce eyes. Some are short. Some are fat. Some are Hindus. Some are Sikhs. There are Muslims, too. I have also suffered white men. All these men always have only one thing in mind.

Some do it while standing. Some squat. Some have leather bags carefully balanced in their hand. Some come in cars which they park on the roadside before coming to me. Many are without any possession.

They all have different smells. They wear different kinds of underwears: red, purple, green, blue, grey, white; Hanes, Jockey, Levi, Rupa, VIP, (V-shaped) Frenchie, home-sewn chaddis. The last mentioned… but skip the details. No point. They all leak on me. I am just a wall.

Delhi’s pee people

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