Tangible souvenirs [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Hello friends! I’ve come out with a second batch of “Somewhere in Delhi” prints! The selection is curated and designed by Venetian designer Anna Gerotto, and professionally printed on high quality Hahnemühle Photo Rag 308 paper. Each print is signed and numbered by its writer-snapper— me! These tangible souvenirs are intended to carry a spirit of the work I have been doing non-stop day and night in the lanes of Delhi—since 2007! Three new options! Write to me for details at mayankaustensoofiarchive@gmail.com. Somewhere in Delhi 1. "Portrait of 4pm" 2. "Rose man" 3. "Egg crate"

Thank God It's Tuesday. [Text and picture by Mayank Austen Soofi] It was close to midnight at Pegs N Pints pub in Chanakyapuri – New Delhi's diplomatic enclave. Illegal acts were being performed close to the maximum security zone of the Indian Prime Minister's residence. On normal days, Pegs N Pints is "normal" - strictly straight. But on Tuesday evenings as the clock struck ten, queers start trickling out of their closets. Lying husbands relegate pretty wives to dinner alone. Guilty sons fake extra tuition classes. Bored European diplomats exchange grey-colored blazers for black leather jackets. They all gather together in Pegs N Pints – New Delhi's only discotheque offering "gay nights on all Tuesdays." Camouflaged as private parties hosted by a certain "Mr.

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] A foreign art critic visiting Delhi’s Connaught Place may be forgiven for thinking its red-splattered corridors are a form of abstract expression. Although the dirty white pillars of the colonial-era arcade were repainted in time for the 2010 Commonwealth Games, every column is again stained blood red. If you are looking for a culprit, it’s paan, the edible betel leaf stuffed with supari (betel nut), tobacco (optional), lime paste, catechu and other piquant flavours. The oozing liquid fills up the mouth, and is either swallowed or—as is evident across the city—spit out. In Connaught Place’s F-Block, the wall that was temporarily white after the hasty makeover in 2010 is marked with the red saliva-ridden

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] At 72, the maker of Hindustani classical music lost interest in the world. Poet Amir Khusro, the 14th century courtier to seven kings, was in mourning after the death of his spiritual mentor, Delhi’s sufi saint Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya. Khusro gave away his wealth, retired to Hazrat Nizamuddin’s tomb, died six months later, and was buried in the shrine’s courtyard. Perhaps it is all a legend. How could one person singularly invent the tabla and sitar, produce the first raga and create the sufi music of qawwali? Most likely Hindustani classical music came out of a civilization, but Khusro’s poetic genius gave that civilization its Hindustani-ness. Folksy and immediate, his language – a mix of Persian

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] At a height of 1,938m, giddy tourists gratify themselves by boating on the lake, riding the ropeway trolley and shopping on Mall Road. That’s Nainital, the hill station in Uttarakhand’s Kumaon region, 330 km north of Delhi. The sensitive traveller goes back with memories of smog and crowd, trash and traffic, tipplers and honeymooners. Most of Nainital is as scarred as other north Indian hill stations, like Shimla or Mussoorie. Mall Road, the principal promenade, is littered with plastic packets. The hill slopes are pockmarked with hotels. The mossy rocks are painted with ads. The tree branches are entwined with electric cables. Throughout the day, the hills echo with the sound of honking cars. Old,

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] In December 2013, India’s Supreme Court pronounced that gay sex is illegal. It has been a long journey for gay people in Delhi and across the country. “Looking for chubby bottoms.” “Looking for good-looking, straight-acting guys.” “Looking for discreet friendship and fun.” “Looking for a real and honest man.” “Looking for sex with hairy men.” On a recent Sunday morning, these were the status messages of five of the 131 people in Delhi who were cruising for men on the international gay dating website Guys4men.com, popularly called PlanetRomeo. Started in Germany in 2002, PlanetRomeo’s impact on the lives of homosexual men in India’s big cities started much earlier than the Delhi high court verdict in 2009

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] Most Delhiwallas have grown to think of Metro stations as places to push each other into rail coaches. The Jawaharlal Nehru (JLN) Stadium station in central Delhi is different. A cynic might mock it as a symbol of world-class Delhi. A diehard optimist might plug it as the perfect getaway from the pushy Delhiite. “Not many people come here,” says a guard. “It doesn’t see much crowd,” says the clerk at the token counter. But the station has been designed to handle great crowds. As seen on a display board: Extra-large staircases have been provided at all the five entry points for the smooth movement of the commuters. While the staircases at other stations are 2.4

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] A foreign art critic visiting Delhi’s Connaught Place may be forgiven for thinking its red-splattered corridors are a form of abstract expression. Although the dirty white pillars of the colonial-era arcade were repainted in time for the 2010 Commonwealth Games, every column is again stained blood red. If you are looking for a culprit, it’s paan, the edible betel leaf stuffed with supari (betel nut), tobacco (optional), lime paste, catechu and other piquant flavours. The oozing liquid fills up the mouth, and is either swallowed or—as is evident across the city—spit out. In Connaught Place’s F-Block, the wall that was temporarily white after the hasty makeover in 2010 is marked with the red saliva-ridden

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] In 2009, Barack Hussein Obama took oath as the first black President of USA. In 2012, he was re-elected as the US President. In 2008, Maria Shriver, the then wife of California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, had famously said, “If Barack Obama was a state, he’d be California. Diverse. Open. Smart. Independent. Bucks tradition. Innovative. Inspirational.” What if Barack Obama was a neighbourhood or a landmark in Delhi? What would he be? In 2009, The Delhi Walla had put this question to a few Delhiwallas in town. Click here to read the rest of this article originally published on The Delhi Walla in December 2009.

[Digging out old stories from The Delhi Walla] Amid the business towers and residential apartments of the Colonial-era Connaught Place, this 14th century baoli or ancient step-well, is flanked on both sides by niches, chambers and passageways, and the 104 stone steps descending into the well’s dried-up base, have three levels. It is not certain who built it, though some credit it to a king called Agrasen; hence the name. As you enter, you will see a mosque on one side. Initially, you will hear the cooing of hundreds of pigeons. But as you walk down the stairs, the silence deepens, the city skyline disappears and the daylight fades away. Click here to read the rest of this article originally published on The Delhi