City Series – Bhuvi Sharma in Moradabad, We the Isolationists (372nd Corona Diary) Corona Diary by The Delhi Walla - June 19, 20200 Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Bhuvi Sharma] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see myself pondering over the times I took the little things for granted. Be it a glance/frown from a stranger or a touch from my lover. I succumb to past experiences of the year. I remember the taste of crimson layer of red velvet cake from my favourite bakery, the judgmental indecent jabbering of Indian aunts, the narrow lanes of Chandni Chowk, the rushed Monday morning blues, the tiaras made out of stolen flowers from cranky uncle’s backyard, matching the silver jewellery to my Kurtis, the bold Kajal and not so slutty red lipstick, the joyous loud colony kids disturbing my evening nap, the
City Series – Mitiksha Gupta in Bulandshahr, We the Isolationists (371st Corona Diary) Corona Diary by The Delhi Walla - June 19, 20200 Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Mitiksha Gupta] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see myself standing alone on a deserted road. It seems that the time has stopped and has given me a chance to think about the sole purpose of my existence. In fact, I needed this time to re-evaluate my actions and my journey of life but not in this way. I wanted to let myself open up and look upon my actions but not at the cost of the lives of millions. Now, when I see myself in this self-isolation period I feel mixed emotions of self-contentment and grief. Self-contentment, as for now I am able to find myself my space in the
City Series – Sarojini Singh in Delhi, We the Isolationists (370th Corona Diary) Corona Diary by The Delhi Walla - June 19, 2020June 19, 20200 Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Sarojini Singh] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see myself flying on the wings of my imagination. I fly up and down on the meadows of flowers, hover upon splashy water falls, and scurry around on the snowy peaks of the mountains. I inflate my lungs with fresh air while wandering above the dense forests…rising sun casting its golden hue illuminate the surroundings... all day long I navigate through the puffy clouds in the limitless sky. At sunset... silver glow of moon and stars upon the painted sky steals my breath. Energized by the spirit, I swoop down upon the ground with a holy vessel filled with ethereal nectar of joy and with a spectrum
City Obituary – Muhammed Aijaz ‘Chickenwale’, 1963-2020 General by The Delhi Walla - June 19, 2020June 19, 20200 The passing of a time. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] In most places these days, the news of a death spreads through WhatsApp and Facebook. But in Old Delhi, pasting a handwritten note on a public wall continues to be the preferred practice to circulate this kind of sad occurrence. On Wednesday morning, the meat shop near Rangrez Wali Masjid didn’t open. Instead, the passersby found a piece of paper taped on the metal shutters. It was handwritten in black ink and in Urdu, and it read: “Bhai Aijaz Chickenwale passed away last evening and his final journey will begin at 11 am today.” Muhammed Aijaz ‘Chickenwale’ died of heart failure, aged 56. He was an integral feature of this corner of