A shrine's best-kept secret. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It’s one of the lesser known shrines of the capital and it is tucked within… oh well, another lesser known shrine. The historic graves of Hazrat Sarmad Shahid and Hazrat Hare Bhare Shah lie just outside Old Delhi’s Jama Masjid, and yet aren’t visited by many tourists, nor many pilgrims. Until recently, the shrine was identified by its red and green colours. Red symbolises Hazrat Sarmad, who was executed by Emperor Aurangzeb, and the green, or hara, commemorates Hazrat Hare Bhare. But as part of an ongoing renovation that began during the coronavirus-triggered lockdown last year, the shrine’s signature tiles are being gradually replaced by white marble from Rajasthan. This week, the

Faith in green. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The temple is immersed in utmost quietude, so much so that you feel that if you concentrate enough, you might hear Devi Durga breathe. Attired in an orange fabric, her idol faces the door. Hidden in a narrow alley of Old Delhi’s Galli Choori Wallan, Hara Mandir has the hushed remoteness of rarely frequented pilgrimage sites, like those found in the snowy reaches of the Himalayas. You rarely see visitors here. Its exquisite beauty remains largely untouched. Its name derives from the wall outside, painted green, or hara. Inside, the most striking feature is of the chessboard floor. The walls are sculpted at various places with taaks, or arched niches, a disappearing

A wayside shrine. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This is the Capital’s super-congested heart, next to the New Delhi railway station. Outside, the road is clogged with cars and autos and the pavement packed with purpose-filled masked humans. But Shiv Prajapati Mandir is as tranquil and empty as the wayside shrine of a remote countryside. As if it had withdrawn into a much-desired quarantine. Yet, every day at the same afternoon hour, Hari Prasad, who runs a snack stall just outside of it, on the pavement, enters to clean the temple floor. “Out of devotion,” he says in a low voice, glancing towards the gods and instinctively touching his heart. The temple walls are pink. On one side are the sacred idols.

Souvenirs of Christmas. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Encountering a collection of decorations after the event they were meant to celebrate is over presents a poignant sight. Like, the morning after the wedding. Or the day/s after Christmas, here at the Free Church in south Delhi’s Green Park. The Christmas decorations in the prayer hall are looking fresh, untouched. The gaze first goes to the church’s many ceiling fans. These humble, everyday instruments have been turned into works of art. One fan has paper bells hanging from it. Another has red circular orbs. And then there’s a fan that seems to have a shiny tarantula clinging to it, as if they were two friends frozen into a tight embrace. The walls

The light these times. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] This unfortunate year is nearing its end. From March onwards, every life has been defined by the coronavirus pandemic. Everybody has suffered his or her share of small and big losses. And doors have been opened, sometimes forcefully, on new ways of experiencing the world. One of the many changes has been the emergence of a new respect for how innocent, how nonchalant it was to just go outdoors and roam about (and think without mask!) This, like other things, can no longer be taken for granted. And in our home-bound seclusions, ordinary windows have become some of our most valuable connections to the world outside. And that’s why one ought to

The sacred secret. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The courtyard is flooded with daylight. The marble feels cold to the bare feet. A hand pump lies in the corner. This tranquil destination is one of the very few aangans, or traditional courtyards, of Old Delhi that an outsider can experience without worrying about intruding into the privacy of its dwellers. Simply because it’s not part of a house, but of a temple. Lakshmi Narayan Mandir, in Kucha Pati Ram, has to be among Delhi’s most beautiful temples — even if it’s rather small, and barely known. The arched entrance door and the long tunnel-like corridor leading into the temple give the first hint of its exquisite quaintness. The courtyard is lined

Goddess of smallpox. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] On Mondays, Sheetla Mata Mandir in Gurgaon, in Greater Delhi Region, attracts the biggest crowd in the week — or at least it used to be so in the BC (before corona) era. Too often, the so-called Millennium City’s flashy post-2000 amenities take the attention away from its rootedness to history and faith. The aforementioned temple is a combination of both these elements. While the building is modern, its origins and traditions go back much further in time. These days, as the world is shaken by a pandemic whose end is nowhere in sight, the shrine of a goddess said to cure smallpox and other fevered diseases takes a new relevance. In fact,

From choir to duet. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] They would always take the possibility of unexpected monsoon showers into account, as well as that of unexpected power cuts. But they hadn’t thought of this situation. Every year in July, Keshetra Pal and his wife, Pushpa, hold the sacred Ramayan Paath, the continuous 24-hour reading of the complete Ramcharitmanas, in their home in Ghaziabad. For two consecutive days their drawing room would be converted into a makeshift mandir. The sofas and the coffee table would be removed, the floor would be covered with mattresses topped with beautiful clean sheets. Friends, relatives and neighbours would fill up the space, and each would be given a copy of the epic from the couple’s

A pandemic-era restoration. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] A historic place in Delhi, drastically transformed. While life in the city has severally shrunk due to the coronavirus pandemic, one of the capital’s most important Sufi shrines, or dargahs, is undergoing a major overhaul. The twin shrines of Hazrat Sarmad Shahid and Hazrat Hare Bhare Shah lie tucked within a tiled chamber, at the foot of the great Jama Masjid. A neem tree grows between the graves of the two mystics, its trunk shooting up through an opening in the roof, beyond which it spreads out into a lush green foliage. The two parts of the shrine are distinguished by two colors—green for Hare Bhare Shah and red for Sarmad Shahid. The

One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Places of worship are allowed to open from today—after being closed all this while due to the lockdown caused by the coronavirus pandemic. But the “mahamari” is showing no sign of weakening and the Sufi shrine of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya in central Delhi will keep its doors closed to the public until at least 30 June, informs Peerzada Altamash Nizami, a dargah gaddinashin, a descendent of Hazrat Nizamuddin. The youthful soft-spoken gentleman is among a select group of men responsible for attending the daily prayers in the shrine even in these days of lockdown. Consequently, he says, there will be no qawwalis to celebrate the