Delhiwale: This way to Kucha Dakhni Rai

Kucha Dakhni Rai features long-standing machinery shops and a chai stall run by Zakib, with locals unaware of the history behind the name.

Green turban, black apron and saffron beard. Such a stately man—he must be Dakhni Rai himself.

Zakib has been running his chai stall for 30 years in Kucha Dakhni Rai. (HT Photo)

He is actually Zakib. He has been administering his corner chai stall for 30 years in Kucha Dakhni Rai (see photo). Like everybody else encountered this afternoon in the quiet Walled City kucha, he too is ignorant of Dakhni Rai, and assumes that the man who gave his name to the street “must have been a well-known elder.”

Kucha traditionally implies a lane of dwellers sharing the same occupation. It is startling to discover that unlike other Purani Dilli kuchas, Kucha Dakhni Rai continues to deserve its kucha ID. The lane is lined with the same kind of business. Krishna Industries deals in “all types of industrial heating elements, refrigeration, cold room spare parts.” AF Refrigeration deals in “refrigerator parts.” Arora Electric Corporation deals in “washing machine and microwave spare parts.” Omega Metal industries deals in “copper pipes, capillaries, filter drier, welding rods, AC stand.” Sara Refrigeration deals in...this small workshop is at the moment reeling under an unexpected power cut. As eyes grow used to the darkness, mechanic Waseem becomes visible. He is working on the spare parts of refrigerators, humming a song.

Some distance away, AC spare parts repairer Raza is on a brief break from his destiny with machine spare parts. He is sitting outside his workplace, his figure crisscrossed with sunlight and shadows. With hand on chin, the man is gazing absentmindedly across the lane at Dai Wali Masjid. The mosque is obviously named after a dai (wet nurse), but who could she be? Nobody knows—not the men sitting inside the mosque, not the beggar women sitting outside the doorway, not AC repairer Raza, and nor the stern Soniram, who has been hawking nankhatai biscuits in the kucha for 50 long years.

The long sequence of machinery shops is disrupted only at one point, by a date store stocked with nine kinds of dates: Ajwa, Sukari, Kalmi, Kimia, Amber, Sagai, Mabroom, Medjool, Mashrook. The store stands close to the street’s most haunting landmark: a deserted dwelling overgrown with tall browned grass.

Another haunting spot here is a house with its locked grills plastered over by the many dust-covered copies of a court notice stating that “the construction of building is very old and has developed many cracks and the building might collapse anytime.”

As one wades deeper into the kucha, the machinery shops become less frequent. The lane is ending.