Mission Delhi – Aqil Ahmad, Ghalib Academy Mission Delhi by The Delhi Walla - September 28, 2018October 6, 20180 One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] He arrived in Delhi years ago with just two sets of clothing and a much-thumbed paperback dealing with Urdu literature. Forty years later, poetry critic Aqil Ahmad has authored 10 books on literary criticism — while serving as long-time secretary of the Ghalib Academy, promoting the 19th-century poet Mirza Ghalib. For all this success, Mr Ahmad has certain reservations. This afternoon, he is speculating whimsically about the practical aspects of life. “To start with, I have got no house of my own,” he smiles dimly, between sips of sugary black tea. Instead, he lives in a flat allotted to him by the Academy. “Look at it this way. Millions migrate to
City Life – Listings for Living, Local EMU Trains Life by The Delhi Walla - September 27, 20182 Local dreams. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Perhaps you too have noticed that the advertisements on those nice air-conditioned Metro coaches tend to involve big companies or big-budget movies? That can’t be said of informal advertising flourishing on rundown EMU local trains. These ads might be surreptitiously affixed to the ceilings and floor, or the backs of seats. This afternoon in the Kishenganj-bound EMU, for instance, an outfit’s poster is looking for “anpar (illiterate) se graduate ladke (boys)” for a dandy “directorate job.” Whatever that might be. While a rooftop poster offers this enticement: “Males/females are required who have their own laptop/mobile…no interview, direct job!” You’d need to devote some time on EMUs to study these informal flyers because they do tell us something
City Culture – Artful Pavement, IFFCO Chowk Culture by The Delhi Walla - September 26, 20181 A roadside with stories. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The sidewalk is as wide as a bazaar lane and a paved one at that. But it’s stinking of urine. And yet you ought to come here. Because this pavement in Gurgaon’s IFFCO Chowk starkly depicts the hard realities of a Delhi suburb that wants to be known as the Millennium City (and as the Futuristic City). Of course, no Gurgaon dweller can avoid her city’s bitter truth. Even the most privileged citizen living in the plushest towers (with helipads) must have experienced rainy-day traffic jams. But here you have the opportunity to mull over the deformities and disappointments of the city a tad aesthetically. For this is a very special place. It
Mission Delhi – Akash Kanaujia, Outside Lodhi Gardens Mission Delhi by The Delhi Walla - September 22, 20182 One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Akash Kanaujia attracts attention, no question about it. As though every atom comprising his ripped body is pure muscle. It’s also certain that Mr Kanaujia is used to being stared at. Pedestrians along this central Delhi lane outside Lodhi Gardens are instinctively turning towards this hotel executive with dazed eyes; while evening commuters on a slow-moving bus gawk unabashedly. “My life’s really too hectic to mind the attention,” he laughs. “Five years ago, I was nothing more than a chopstick. Then I started gymming.” This 75-kg guy trains three hours daily before leaving for the office, where he was recently hired as sales manager for a hotel company. “When I
Our Self-Written Obituaries – Arushi Thapar, Bombay Farewell Notice by The Delhi Walla - September 22, 20181 The 207th death. [Text and photos sent by Arushi Thapar] Arushi Thapar will always be remembered as someone who remembered too much. She was never good at making small talk because she was a fan of the real stuff, of things that mattered no matter how insignificant they seemed. She called herself a 'serial nostalgist' as she was plagued by nostalgia several times a day. Her life was a quest to feel every shade of every emotion. She wanted to feel every subtle ripple or shift of emotion that people go through and thought there was something very important about how they drove us into being or not being a certain way. She will be missed for the kind of adrak chai she made,
City Hangout – A Railway Station Book Stall, Gurgaon Hangouts by The Delhi Walla - September 20, 20180 The consolation of a bookshop. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] There is no shortage of folks who look down upon Delhi's satellite city of Gurgaon. You just have to spend time with those snobbish Delhiites. One of the easy ways to attack the poor Millennium City is to snigger that it has no bookstore. That’s anyway fake news. A handful of them exist in the malls and markets of new Gurgaon. The old Gurgaon is a different story, however. It had an excellent shop of rare books on Indian history and politics but its elderly owner shut it down a few months ago due to his advancing age. The only consolation left is a few pavement shacks in Sector 14, but they mostly
City Monument – Three Unbreathing Soldiers, Teen Murti Traffic Circle Monuments by The Delhi Walla - September 19, 20182 Souvenirs of a war. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Almost everybody knows that Teen Murti Memorial derives its name from those three statues plonked in the centre of the landscaped garden... right? But many of us probably haven’t been able to carefully inspect these bronze statues of soldiers, because the garden itself isn’t easily accessible--what with teeming traffic and other inconveniences. Those who might turn up this late afternoon, here in Luytens’ Delhi, would spot a rose lying at the base of this memorial to Indian soldiers who died fighting in West Asia during World War I. The plinth is inscribed with some details about this brigade, both in Urdu and English; while the tablet soaring upwards lists the names of those
Mission Delhi – Haaji Mian, Old Delhi Mission Delhi by The Delhi Walla - September 17, 2018September 17, 20180 One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] A pilgrimage to Mecca is, of course, a must for Muslims the world over. But many grow old and die without being able to realize this dream. Haaji Mian has been far more fortunate--performing his first Hajj at age 2. “Of course I remember very little from that trip,” smiles the 80-year-old hotelier. “But that’s when my grandfather conferred the title of Haaji Mian on me.” Very few of his acquaintances know him by his real name, which is Fayazuddin. His establishment in Old Delhi, not coincidentally, is called Haaji Hotel where he’s now sitting behind a large desk and reminiscing. The two-year-old headed to Mecca during World War II when
City Food – Gol Paape, Farash Khana Food by The Delhi Walla - September 14, 2018September 14, 20182 The tea-time tradition. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Walled City is changing furiously. The old is speedily giving way to the new. But the historic district’s traditional bakeries have somehow been allowed to survive. For now. Unlike the patisseries of the fancy Khan Market that mass-produce meringues, tarts, and quiches, these cramped establishments bake Old Delhi teatime essentials like toasted rusks and gol paapes, a kind of flavoured bread rolls. It is an experience to spend an afternoon in one such establishment. Try shop no. 758, a bakery in Farash Khana near Ajmeri Gate. Since 1955, the bakery – open from 6 am to midnight – daily churns out 120 kg rusks and 20 kg gol paapes on the strength
Our Self-Written Obituaries – Pooja Priyamvada, Patparganj Farewell Notice by The Delhi Walla - September 14, 2018September 14, 20181 The 206th death. [Text and photos sent by Pooja Priyamvada] This poet-lady was always fascinated with obituaries, writing her own is almost a poet’s lifelong dream come true. Newspapers count alphabets and you pay by the word, isn’t it? If similarly life kept a register a small hill-town will remember Pooja Priyamvada as that geek who would dive in every library available and would name all the cedars she met. Teenage page would be full of personal and social angst and illnesses both of the body and the mind, the teenager whose life-lessons came in hospitals and medicines. Youth was just the heady mix of believing in happily-ever-afters and her own omnipotence of being able to create one in her utopia of literature and