Delhiwale: There’s been a death in a neighbouring house

Imran Kabab Wale has passed away; burial at Dilli Gate after sunset prayers. Grief is marked by a notice on the shop, while life in the bazaar goes on.

Mehrajuddin’s son Imran Kabab Wale has died. The burial will take place after the sunset prayers at Dilli Gate graveyard.

The message on the shuttered storefront, dated 08/07/2025, is laid out in Hindi, Urdu and English scripts. The store overlooks the market street going to Chitli Qabar Chowk, here in Old Delhi. (HT)

The message on the shuttered storefront, dated July 8, 2025, is laid out in Hindi, Urdu and English. The store overlooks the market street leading towards Chitli Qabar Chowk, here in Old Delhi.

Death finds a home in every house. The grief of losing a household member has to be endured with the practicality of making the loss public. In the historic Walled City, and sometimes also elsewhere in Delhi, a shopkeeper typically tends to put up the bereavement note on his shop’s shutters. Such an A-4 size printout often specifies the date when the shop shall reopen.

An elderly merchant in the vicinity states that the news of a death in a mohalla household mostly spreads these days through WhatsApp. Earlier, he says, the principal source used to be the local mosque’s loudspeakers. A time was when mosques didn’t have loudspeakers. In those long-ago days, he says, the affected household would lay out chairs on the street outside. That would be the cue for everyone in the mohalla to realise, as if by intuition, that there’s been a death in one of the neighbouring houses. Men would then gather and sit down on the chairs in solidarity. Gradually, the “khabar” would spread through word-of-mouth along the galis and kuchas.

Following this tradition, chairs continue to be laid outside a house of death, especially if the house is too small to accommodate the mourners. This same afternoon, a narrow street in Lal Gali, which is a brief walk away from Chitli Qabar, is lined on both sides with chairs. Scores of men are sitting silently, bearing a numb look.

Meanwhile, ordinary street life is flowing along uninterruptedly by the aforementioned storefront bearing the news of Imran Kebab Wale’s demise. The bazar lane is dense with bikes, scooters, e-rickshaws, fruit carts, and people on foot. Everyone is going somewhere. The shops too are busy. At Yusuf Kurte Wale, colourful kurtas are hanging from a metal rod. At Sikander Confectionery, a woman is buying a pack of toasted rusks. And behind the glass door of Smart Look hair cutting saloon, a man is tipping up his head in innocent laughter.