Anshul and Ankur

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Meet Anshul and Ankur. They are identical twins, having identical voices. Both went to the same school and the same university, entered the same profession, settled in the same city, and now have their day-jobs in the same Connaught Place.

The same-same somewhat ends here. Anshul lives with wife Chetna in south Delhi’s Vasant Kunj. Ankur lives with wife Shivangi in east Delhi’s Yamuna Vihar.

This cold evening, both brothers, after leaving their respective offices for the day, meet in CP’s Outer Circle colonnade. They stand against the backdrop of CP’s distinctive white columns. These columns too are identical, twining each other many times over along the whole colonial-era circle.

Separated by nine minutes, the twins say that they grow up with the usual “Who is who?” and “Which is which?” from over-smiling relatives. But they never thought of themselves together as a single person.

Nevertheless, Anshul says, “We are extremely close.” Ankur says: “We share the most personal things about our lives.” Both say that their relationship evolved following their marriages. Anshul says: “Because now each of us have also became a separate unit, made up of our own individual family.” Ankur says: “But we are twins and the closeness we share will always be present.”

Ankur was the first to marry. As a consideration to the brother’s bride, Anshul grew a moustache so that both brothers were easily identifiable – not only to her, but also to the wedding guests. Indeed, in all the family get-togethers, the brothers are encountered with some fascination for being identical twins. Anshul says: “I don’t mind if we make people feel excited and happy.” Ankur says: “I have read that every person in this world shares his or her face with four or five other people living somewhere else on this earth, but our whole life goes by without meeting those people… I feel blessed that I have managed to meet in my life at least one of the persons who bears the same face as mine.”

Both brothers are showing a day-old stubble, glinting with prickly strands of white. “We started to grey at the same time,” says one. “As we grow older, our differences might become more pronounced,” says the other.

The soft-spoken men graciously agree to pose for a portrait. Left is Ankur, right is Anshul. No–left is Anshul, right is Ankur!