A last station's romance. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] They dot our landscape, more than 150 of them. And now The Delhi Walla is friends with arguably the most gorgeous of all those Metro stations in our sprawling city. Just take the 50km Blue Line out to the very last stop – Dwarka Sector 21 — and you’re in for an unexpected treat. This gleaming station isn’t like any other. All glass and concrete, it’s lavishly landscaped with a long row of begonia trees lining the boundary wall — all sprouting golden yellow flowers — the day I go there. Bored rickshaw drivers are on to a good thing. They park beneath the greenery, waiting for customers while chatting on mobile phones. Come evening,

Life on the Metro. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It was around 9 in the morning. The Delhi Walla was on the Yellow Line of the Delhi Metro. Ten minutes after leaving Chawri Bazaar Metro Station, the eight-coaches-long train came to a stop at the crowded Rajiv Chowk. A great mass of commuters emptied the sixth coach. A greater number of commuters filled it up an instant later. They two were among the new arrivals. He was in a yellow sweater. She was in a red jacket. Scores of men in many other shades of sweaters and jackets stood around them. Soon afterwards, his arm went up to hold a grab handle for support. While her arm enveloped him. She kept on looking

The book lover’s commute. [Text by Divya Babu; photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] I open William Dalrymple's Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan. I look around and try to reposition my elbows in the best way possible. It's peak hour on the Delhi Metro and I'm standing in the ladies compartment. My hour-long commute starts from Huda City Centre in Gurgaon and ends at Barakhamba Road in Central Delhi, and my book has more than 500 pages. It was an autographed copy that I bought a few days ago at an elaborate book launch at the British Council in Connaught Place. I spend three minutes trying to decipher what William Dalrymple has inscribed for me on the title page. I'm

Life in the Metro. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] 9 pm, Saturday night. The Delhi Walla is on the Blue Line of the Delhi Metro. The train halts at Mandi House. The platform is almost empty. Only one person steps into the coach. He is holding a big box wrapped in a silver-colored gift paper. He looks around and settles down on a seat reserved “For Old or Physically Challenged’. Somehow, the man seems familiar. Very familiar. He is wearing a turban and has a beard. The penny drops. This is that man from the Wenger’s, the famous Colonial-era cake shop in Connaught Place. He is always seen standing behind the counter, chatting to customers and taking orders for birthday cakes. Charanjeet Singh,

Life in the Metro. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Delhi Metro commuters are great readers. Every person is spotted reading something or the other on the Smartphone. Sometimes, however, The Delhi Walla spots people actually reading a book on paper. Once, a young man was seen reading American journalist Steve Coll’s highbrow book, Ghost Wars: The Secret History of the CIA, Afghanistan, and bin Laden, from the Soviet Invasion to September 10, 2001. Another time, a man was absorbed reading a book in Urdu. A week ago, a woman was sighted with E. L. James’s Fifty Shades of Grey. Of course, you must have already read beautiful memoirs by Dwarka’s Nikhil Kumar and Noida’s Manika Dhama of pursuing Vikram Seth’s A

The book lover’s commute. [Photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Nikhil Kumar is interested in history and politics. He lives in Sector 10, Dwarka. And he read the whole of Vikram Seth’s novel A Suitable Boy while commuting on the Delhi Metro. Here are glimpses of the reader, the Metro and the precious copy of Mr Kumar’s novel, signed by Vikram Seth himself! The boy on the tracks 1. 2. 4. 3. 8. 9.

The book lover's commute. [Text by Manika Dhama; photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] At 1,200 pages in tiny ant-lettering, it was an unwieldy choice for Metro commute reading. More than once during the course of the month I spent reading it, I questioned this decision. And yet there she was, bulging out of my old black leather bag, in her own black cage and cover, telling anyone in the women’s coach of the Delhi Metro who bent their heads to peek, that I was spending August on a vicarious journey through a country that did not exist anymore. “To my friends in Yugoslavia, who are now all dead or enslaved.” This epigraph to Rebecca West’s travel writing tome, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon: A

Life in the Metro. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] No place like home, New York, New York. The Delhi Walla saw this man on the Delhi Metro Blue Line, somewhere between the Rajiv Chowk and Dwarka Sector 21 stations. He clearly knew his daily six from the Grand Central. Just look at him--his system had got the beat in full function, denim shorts et al. He wore a NYC baseball cap and his Slim Shady Detroit tee shirt showed rapper Eminem. He had tattooed knees and arms. His ears had hip hop; his eyes had the rain-wet windows; his heart had the five boroughs. Karol Bagh came. Subhash Nagar came. Fulton Street came and the man got off. Boom bye

Life in the Metro. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] She was probably around twenty (see the photo above). She wore a purple sari with silver-colored designs that seemed to be patterned after flowers and leaves. Her arms were covered with purple bangles. She must be a newly-married woman. The Delhi Walla saw her in a coach on the Blue Line of the Delhi Metro. The woman's head was veiled with the end of her sari. She was seated between an elderly woman and a young man. One of her hands was holding the veil in place, the other rested on her lap. Initially, the woman’s face was completely hidden behind her sari. But later, when the train was somewhere between