Delhiwale: This way to Charkhe Walan Chowk

At Old Delhi's Charkhe Walan Chowk, laborers discuss their daily lives amid the blend of historical architecture and modern commerce.

Look at these brown cardboard cartons, and then look at that brown wooden doorway. The juxtaposition defines the jarring character of Old Delhi’s Charkhe Walan Chowk intersection. Tidy relic of the past commingling with the industrious present.

Citizens Rajesh, Ashok, Sudesh, Lebhaga, Gautam. (HT)

The cartons contain bottles of soap dispensers, says one of the five friendly men sitting around the cartons. They work as labourers, and live jointly like a band of brothers in a nearby alley. One man, with a summertime gamcha slung along his shoulder, is seated at some distance away from the rest of his colleagues, his back leaning against the beautiful doorway. He explains that the cartons arrived a while ago in a van, sent by a distributor. We labourers, he says, will haul the cartons to a bazar warehouse, from where the “maal” would be delivered to individual shops in the area. “That’s our life everyday,” he says, clapping playfully.

The conversation shifts to the beautiful doorway. “We see it daily, it is just a darwaza… my village has a house with a similar door,” remarks one in an amused tone, his woollen scarf vouching for the mildly cold November afternoon. The man sitting by the doorway abruptly turns his head, and looks up, reading aloud the legends sculpted in Devanagri at the top of the doorway: “This dharamshala was built by Bhagwan Krishna devotee Bholu Mal’s son Lala Gulab Singh in the year 1953.” He says that the building hosts weddings during the wedding season. Others nod knowingly.

Now one of the men gets up, and walks off to his side of the Chowk, pointing out mockingly, “Dekho, this darwaza too is beautiful—click its photo instead!” The rusty metal door in question belongs to an adjacent building, and is in fact quite ugly. It is much smaller in size, and is painted pink. Small plastic packs containing lemons and chilies are tied to the door’s latch; the packets probably belong to the vendor manning a subzi cart, nearby.

On returning to his seating place, the man takes on a query about the origins of the Chowk’s name. At once, all the men start speaking simultaneously, until a stately voice in the group drowns out the other argumentative voices, stating confidently: “In the old days, charkhas were manufactured in the Chowk.”

The intersection in fact shares its name with a facing street studded with hyperlocal commerce consisting of Isha Creations Ladies Tailor, Dr. Madho Singh Dentist Clinic, Balaji Cards, Shri Ram Swaroop Halwai, and Shankar Tea Stall.

After some more minutes of gupshup, the men get up, and start to haul away the hefty cartons, lobbing jokey slangs at each other.

Seen in the photo: citizens Rajesh, Ashok, Sudesh, Lebhaga, Gautam