This way to Gali Do Number Gate

Hindustan Times

2 days ago

There are certain aspects that the crowds tend to overlook when turning up at Jama Masjid in Old Delhi. To be sure, innumerable travellers flock to the centuries-old monument, briefly becoming an element of the red sandstone architecture. The more diligent among them discover a handful of little known Sufi shrines, randomly arranged around the great edifice. Many of these hurried travellers happen to pass through the same crowded cramped lane to reach their historic destination. In their hurry, most do not care for this gali. But the street is extremely distinctive, and is colloquially known by some as Gali Do Number Gate ('do' as in the Hindi for two). It is so called because it goes past Jama Masjid's east-facing gate no. 2.
The bazar lane is like a tunnel, lined on both sides with dozens of small stalls. It is roofed by a most unusual covering, which comes up only during the summer months. This comprises a series of 'chaadars' – sheets of colourful clothing – that act as awnings to shelter shoppers from the harsh sunlight, or from sudden drizzles, or dust storms. Every morning, the sheets are installed separately by the individual stalls, but together they form a single ceiling. No two sheets are alike. This burning afternoon, one has a checked pattern. Another is crisscrossed with red hearts. The Purani Dilli shoppers stand under these awnings, protected from the seething hostile sun, haggling for bargains with the merchants. While in the gap between two sheets, a bit of sky, or a view of the Jama Masjid, glistens unnoticed.
Such an improvised arrangement makes the market lane look like a souk—those traditional Arab markets that once flourished in Jeddah and Bahrain before petroleum dollars changed those bazars into air-conditioned shopping malls.
The awning ends as soon as the street reaches Jama Masjid's gate no. 2, which directly overlooks the labyrinthine mishmash of Meena Bazar, and beyond it the stone ramparts of the Red Fort. These days, the aforementioned chaadars that make up the street's improvised ceiling are gradually being replaced by (water proof!) plastic sheets. But nobody is remarking on the shift. For nobody looks up.