Delhiwale: This way to Gali Hotel Taj Wali

A quiet, nameless lane in Old Delhi, lined with motor spare shops and fluted columns, hints at its rich history and unique character.

Fluted columns, that are only partially discernible in the dark. Wide arches supporting dust-covered ceilings. And a narrow, corridor-like, lane stretching far into deepened shadows. This afternoon, the lane is filled with scores of men, young and old. Yet, the place is quiet. The blinding sunlight outside sends no message within. It feels like being in an underground vault. But this gali is above ground.

On the facing side, the lane is flanked by Hotel Taj, a hulking pink-and-white landmark that gives a very strong idiosyncratic character to this part of the Walled City. (HT Photo)

The Old Delhi lane is lined exclusively with small shops specialising in motor spare parts. An elderly shopkeeper in white, a graceful and courteous gent, says that “this lane has no name,” explaining that it is considered a part of the Jama Masjid Motor Market, which lies outside. But that is so unfair. The lane is long and unique enough to not to be dismissed as a mere appendage of another market. The elderly man nods sympathetically. He says that the gali was once part of a haveli that no longer exists. Indeed, this particular aspect of the gali’s past must explain the presence of very many fluted columns; they must be the remains of that long-ago mansion. The blue paint of one fluted column has peeled away, exposing the ochre beneath.

On wading deeper into the lane, the silence intensifies. Men are sitting by their respective establishments, wordless, like passengers in a waiting room. An alcove is equipped with a large hand pump. The gali’s calm immobility is disturbed only by super-fat mongooses silently darting from shop to shop. They emerge from dense stacks of motor parts, returning into them after a few moments, and emerging out again.

All this while, the aforementioned elderly man is continuing to sit on the chair outside his shop. In fact, every shop here has chairs placed outside; the cramped interiors being stacked with every conceivable motor spare part. Unlike the nameless lane, each of these objects has a precise identity. What appears at first glance to be a chaotic heap of metal and glass reveals itself, upon inquiry, as ball bearings, car lights, engine gears, rollers, rear-view mirrors, shockers, needles, suspensions, thrust bearings, car doors, sensors, magneto coils, leads, gear haddi, side mirrors, pistons, BCM units, and fuel pumps.

While the lane is believed to have once formed part of a mansion that no longer exists, it now opens out beside the doorway of another mansion that still stands—one where, some years ago, a film starring Priyanka Chopra was shot. On the facing side, the lane is flanked by Hotel Taj, a hulking pink-and-white landmark that gives a very strong idiosyncratic character to this part of the Walled City. In fact, a hoarding for the hotel hangs at the entrance to the lane—see photo. Perhaps, then, it is sweet and fitting to refer to this nameless lane as Gali Hotel Taj Wali.