One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Perhaps he’s not special, this thought does cross his mind. After all, many, many, young men across this big wide world must have faced life’s…
One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] A wine-brown mongoose dashes off as a bow from an arrow, followed by a man with a bundle half his size, followed by a boy…
The visible city. [By Mayank Austen Soofi] Delhi is a voyeur’s paradise and The Delhi Walla also makes pictures. I take photos of people, streets, flowers, eateries, drawing rooms, tombs, landscapes, buses, colleges, Sufi shrines, trees, animals, autos, libraries, birds,…
One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] He is silently gazing at… perhaps the traffic on the road. A tree leaf falls on his shoulder. He continues to be still. Some might…
The tallest building. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Here, it is partly entangled within the leafless vines of a tall pavement plant. There, it is framed within the upturned shaft of a horseless tonga. It has many other…
Taste for winter. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] There are many ways of telling the same story. Same goes for til. The seasame seed exists in many meetha adaptations. The sweet teeth-sticking gajak is the most common. Many…
One of the one percent in 13 million. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] Some weeks back, a bungalow in a posh neighbourhood emptied of its longtime dwellers. Overnight, blue tin barricades came up around the deserted house. Next,…
Home sweet home [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Here, the white cord of a mobile phone charger. There, a blue-rimmed handheld mirror. On a hook, two jackets. On the floor, a blanket. This room is an entire house,…
A lounge to be with yourself. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The chandelier is burning faintly. Its slight light is shining up an elderly man’s bald pate. Elsewhere, a woman is sitting alone, wiping her eyes occasionally with…
The death of a poet. [Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi] His life was like a love poem. He himself was a poet, and a familiar face (and voice) at the Red Fort’s nighttime poetry mushaira, held every year…
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