Delhiwale: We, the peepal

A big wonder in the Walled City

This fast-flowing darya, its banks lined with peepal trees. Right here in Old Delhi.

The historic Walled City is crammed with monuments, havelis and eateries, with delightfully picturesque corners hidden in most unexpected streets.

The darya (sea) is actually the fast-flowing traffic in Daryaganj. And the peepals are lining no riverbank but Daryaganj’s smoggy Netaji Subhash Marg. The trees unspool along the mile-long concrete road divider.

The historic Walled City is crammed with monuments, havelis and eateries, with delightfully picturesque corners hidden in most unexpected streets. Among such Purani Dilli marvels, this row of trees is as marvellous. Curiously, nobody has celebrated it (until now!).

Read: Delhiwale: Only true paradise is paradise lost

The road divider has 21 peepals, each possessing the majesty of any egoistic Old Delhi ruin. But they aren’t old, gently points out Gurjeet Singh, whose family-run Guru Nanak Auto Stores in Daryaganj predates the independence. He informs that the trees were planted at the turn of this century. Earlier, he recalls. the divider had a few scraggy plants barely alive within protective jalis. The foliage of these trees though is superlatively tiptop, but their lower branches appear to be severely trimmed, perhaps to keep the traffic unobstructed.

The road divider’s first peepal stands directly in front of the Dilli Gate monument. It faces the office of the Deputy Commissioner of Police (Central District) on one side of the road, and Masjid Nabi Baksh on the other.

Read: Delhiwale: And quiet flows the Dilli

This humid noon, an elderly man in crutches is sitting under it, holding a water bottle. The fourth peepal faces the aforementioned auto store. The fifth faces the Mukta Book Agency, which sells books for 200 rupees/kg. The ninth faces the iconic Sablok Clinic Sexologist. The 12th peepal is unusually skinny. The 13th demands attention because, well, it is number 13–it faces a “wine and beer shop.” The 17th faces the padlocked Hardayal Municipal Public Library, which used to teem with newspaper readers until the pandemic’s first lockdown (it hasn’t opened since then). The 18th faces Muzzik Junction, the music shop that has been selling dholaks and harmoniums for donkey’s years. The final two trees look exactly alike, twinning like Seeta aur Geeta.

This moment however, the most surreal of all the peepals happens to be the 14th tree. A barefoot man is atop its branches, silently plucking off the leafy twigs, throwing them down on the road divider. He now climbs even higher, the traffic underneath flowing non-stop, darya-like.