Delhiwale: This option to Kona

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Straight, quick and lean, the gali rapidly hits an deadlock, ending right into a doorway veiled by a flashy pink curtain.

Muhammed Wakeel, left, with buddy, Muhammed Yunus. (HT Picture)

The quick gali deserves to be recorded—as a result of it’s there!—and since each huge and small Walled Metropolis lane instructions a novel persona. One lane close to Turkman Gate Bazar as an illustration is shorter than even this lane, known as Gali Nal Wali (already chronicled on this web page).

This lane although has been denied the formal standing of a gali. It’s merely known as Kona. Kona means nook, and the lane certainly lies in a nook of Haveli Azam Khan Chowk. A pedestrian-friendly intersection, the chowk is like New York Metropolis—it by no means sleeps, energised by the hyperactive lifetime of its many converging streets, teeming with people, goats, canine, cats and rats.

Whereas the opposite three lanes merging into the chowk lie filled with groceries, bakeries, and chai stalls, the fourth—Kona—is naked of avenue life, and is discreetly lined with a number of home doorways. The only comfort to its voidness is that it instantly overlooks the chowk’s well-liked paan kiosk (based by Salauddin, now administered by son Nafeesuddin). This chilly night, a bunch of aged males are sitting silently by the stall. All of them stay within the neighborhood, however solely certainly one of them is a dweller of the Kona. This gentleman, the introvert Muhammed Wakeel, is smoking a beedi. A retired rickshaw puller, he lives within the Kona along with his brother’s household. Actually, the aforementioned pink curtain marking the top of the Kona is the doorway to his residence.

After overcoming his preliminary shyness, Muhammed Wakeel condescends to offer an oral survey of the Kona. He does so in a succession of declarations, every sentence punctuated by an uncomfortably lengthy pause. “The gali looks empty but has its share of residents. There are five houses. Each house has many rooms. Each room has many tenants. All of these people have come from outside Delhi. They live here because they have jobs in the area. One works at the Karim’s restaurant.”

He lights a brand new beedi.

In the meantime, the Kona’s desolation is rising intenser compared to the chowk’s heightened 6pm bustle. The chowk’s life fades solely after Nafeesuddin shuts down his paan stall, at three within the morning. After which, for the subsequent few hours, the chowk turns into as forlorn as its nook Kona.