The party secrets. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] One evening The Delhi Walla attended the launch of literary website Bolbosh at the Oxford Bookstore in Connaught Place. Carefully unkempt writer Basharat Ali and painstakingly groomed Asiya Zahoor, the website's founder member, chatted on the stage. Ms Zahoor was playful with her white headscarf - a feminine privilege denied to Mr Ali. These two young people spoke awkwardly, sincerely, optimistically about the new online enterprise, “an archive of aesthetically rich and culturally significant literature from the Baramulla region (of Kashmir) written in languages such as Balti, Pahari, Ladakhi, Shina and Dorgi, Gujri and Kashmiri.” Since the focus was on conflict-ridden Kashmir, one had prepared oneself to hear stories of custodial deaths

The party secrets. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] One evening The Delhi Walla attended two parties, one after the other. The Iftar dinner at the Oberoi Hotel was hosted by Herro Mustafa of the American embassy. The reception to mark the French National Day was hosted by ambassador François Richier at his residence on Nyay Marg. The Iftar dinner offered veiled heads. The National Day reception offered bare shoulders. The Iftar dinner had some of the Muslim guests dressed in ceremonial drapes and sherwanis. The National Day reception was also formal but the dresses leaned towards European sensibilities; accessories included hats and cigars. (A new attaché scandalized everyone by greeting the first councilor before the minister councilor.) The Iftar dinner served chicken

The party secrets. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The woman in the yellow sari was a stunner -- and she spoke like a Sciences Po professor. One evening The Delhi Walla attended an event to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the Paris-based daily Le Monde. With half-an-inch of prickly grey stubble covering his face, author Rana Dasgupta, who speaks in a strange international accent, held highbrow conversations with his French counterpart, the gray-eyed Florence Noiville. Hosted at the Oxford Book Store in Connaught Place, a section of the audience got very serious. One lady was heard saying, “If you think of it, my relationship with my father and mother is also a political construct.” Another purred, “This is too dialectic.” At one

The party secrets. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] One evening The Delhi Walla attended the launch of the photo exhibition of the 10th issue of 'PIX: A Photography Quarterly', titled Habitat. Hosted at the Goethe-Institut in Max Mueller Bhavan, the exhibition showcased works by 16 artists including Valentino Bellini, Rasel Chowdhury, Alessandro Ciccarelli and Anshika Varma. The photos – displayed in the Siddhartha Hall - were arresting but I preferred the launch party peopled with tattooed bodies. There was wine and beer and ‘freeloaders’ – folks who come only for the booze. At one point the sari-clad hostess approached a man, and told him, “That’s it! You’ve had your two glasses.” Shortly afterwards I heard a stylishly-dressed woman talking loudly on her mobile

The party secrets. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] One evening The Delhi Walla attended the launch of Rakhshanda Jalil’s book A Rebel and Her Cause: Life and Work of Rashid Jahan. Hosted at Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts, the launch ceremony was followed by a discussion on the critically-acclaimed biography. The evening started with the unveiling of the photo exhibition 'The Life of Rashid Jahan Angareywali'. It took me some time to fall in love with the gallery's grainy black & white images. I was getting distracted by some of the old ladies in the crowd. Wearing artistic saris, these grey-haired fairies looked like faithful subscribers of some expensive left-leaning English-language literary journal. One woman in a purple sari appeared

It's not about books. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] High heels, Prada bags, Charles & Keith ankle boots, Sula wine, exposed cleavages and a private jet. Lit events are the new cool for the beautiful people, if the 6th Jaipur Literature Festival is an indicator. It was the place to see and be seen at. There was music, kisses, vodka, and, yes, it didn’t harm to have Pamuk as a prop. From now on, the fashion weeks of Delhi and Mumbai will be merely for the wannabes. What The Delhi Walla saw was a Woodstock of the internationally accented and expensively groomed. The Page 3 People, aka P3P, arrived in Diggi Palace, the festival venue, in the form of Ayesha Thapar,