City Food – Morena Gajak, Old Gurgaon Food by The Delhi Walla - November 8, 2023November 8, 20230 The Morena affair. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Murano in Italy is famous for its glass work. Morena in India is famous for its gajak work. Time to return to a sweet indulgence of the year past. Head to old Gurgaon, and re-experience the taste of this crispy, crackling treat made of gur (jaggery) and til (seasame seed). The heat-inducing gajak is resurfacing for the winter. Several gajak shops and stalls are popping up in various markets. The banner legends on almost each of these establishments claim that they trace their origins to Morena, the MP district close to Chambal valley that was once famous for dacoits. Fret not, gajaks can be sighted elsewhere too in the Delhi region. But most of
City Faith – Chitli Qabar Dargah, Chitli Qabar Chowk Faith by The Delhi Walla - November 7, 20230 Sufi shrine, now and then. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The long, curving crack on the discoloured wall evoked the course of a river. A tiny uneven gap through the same wall disconcertingly showed the flower shop on the other side. The size of a small household attic, this chamber in a chaotic four-route Old Delhi chowk is a historic sufi shrine. It gives its name to the chowk as well as to the surrounding bazar. It no longer shows its familiar scruffiness. Last week, the Chitli Qabar dargah was cleansed of its years-old grime. The long crack has been mended, the gap has been filled up, the walls painted to a barely perceptible pink, the floor is free of clutter. (See the
City Walk – Gali Takhat Wali, Old Delhi Walks by The Delhi Walla - November 7, 20230 The street of wooden cot. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Dictionary describes it as “any place raised above the ground for sitting, reclining, or sleeping.” Basically a wooden cot, it gives its name to an Old Delhi street. Gali Takhat Wali neighbours Gali Sui Walan, the street of the tailor’s needle. The path linking the two galiyan is gripping. A wretchedly narrow airless alley sparks out from Gali Sui Walan, opening into another arm of Gali Sui Walan. This smoggy noon two goats are peacefully feeding on gular leaves outside a pink doorway. The rest of the route to Gali Takhat Wali wends past Sultan Gym, Abdul Malik Bawarchi’s kitchen, Gali Tajiran, Aziz General Store, Rais Tailors and Drapers, box-maker
City Life – Pollution Postcard, 2023 Delhi City Poetry Life by The Delhi Walla - November 6, 20230 Prose and poem on the Delhi smog. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] The mourning (sorry, morning!) sky is sandstorm yellow, so is the earth and everything between the sky and earth, though no storm is brewing. The distant trees lurk like djinns in black robes, here near Noida Mor. In such a hazardous setting, a cyclist has parked his cycle by the deserted roadside. His hands are tucked within the pants pockets. His head is bend sideward, as he stands statue-still amid the extraordinary smog engulfing Delhi. The scene is surreal. See photo. The previous evening, designer Payal Singh was celebrating her birthday at her sixth floor apartment in Ghaziabad when she received a desperate WhatsApp message from her sister
City Hangout – India Habitat Center Architecture, Lodhi Road Hangouts by The Delhi Walla - November 4, 20230 So Stein. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Head to the tranquil atrium at the India Habitat Centre (IHC). Enter through gate 2. Make sure you reach around 10.15am, when the morning shift staffers are sprucing up the courtyard floor with water. Now look down at your shoes. This is one of the most amazing sights in Delhi. You’ll be standing upon the pattern of a beautiful art mural (see left photo). These are actually the building’s multitudinous ceiling panels, or “sunscreens”, reflecting off the wet floor (see right photo). Now look up to the distant wall on your left. It is decked with the shadow of these same ceiling panels. Now walk to one of the decorative pools that adorn this calmly yard. Those same
City Hangout – Blue Chai, Kale Tea Stall Food Hangouts by The Delhi Walla - November 2, 20230 The street of the tailor's needle. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Winter in, blue out. Neela aasman kho gaya—the blue sky is lost. Soon the air above Delhi will be all grey, dusty, smoggy, cold. Indeed, in our polluted city, every bit of blue colour can be experienced as a testament to what we do not have most of the year. Searching for distinguished shades of blue then becomes a homage to our expired blue sky. The color certainly isn’t elusive; the capital’s road signs share a dark blue background. But it is harder to find places where the blue gets to be the dominant character. No, it cannot be Humayun Tomb’s gracious Neela Gumbad monument, its neela is too
Mission Delhi – Monu, Somewhere in Delhi Mission Delhi by The Delhi Walla - November 2, 20230 One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] This sight, so rare. A citizen not holding the customary mobile, but a book. Monu is reading, while awaiting his rickshaw’s next customer. So it had seemed a moment back. He is actually recovering from a knee fracture. This afternoon, he is perched on the rickshaw’s passenger seat. “I cannot ride my rickshaw for some days,” he says matter-of-factly, closing the paperback in hand, using his finger as a substitute bookmark. A time was when Monu, a compulsive reader, preferred fiction over non-fiction. “I would read lots of novels, especially of Premchand ji and Reema Bharti ji.” Each time he mentions a writer, he suffixes the name with the respectful
Mission Delhi – Joginder, Barakhamba Mission Delhi by The Delhi Walla - November 1, 20230 One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] It is Sunday. There is no traffic, the road lined with high-rises is empty. Its gaping emptiness augments the awe of the megapolis. Amid such a brobdingnagian panorama, Joginder is barely perceptible; his lone, lean figure seems detached from the grandeur of the place. Appearances can be deceptive however. Joginder’s roots are as firmly entrenched into Barakhamba’s metaphoric soil as the Statesman Tower that towers behind him. A pavement hawker of boiled spicy chana, he has been on this spot for 20 years. “But my asli home is in Ghazipur… it is very far from Dilli, it is in UP, beyond Benares.” Joginder lives in a “jhuggi” in nearby