Amitabh Bachchan is reclining languidly, the way he did in that scene in Deewar , long legs crossed, a billa with number 786 tied around his arm, beedi between his lips. A few steps ahead of this Bollywood-themed wall is another brightly painted one with a flying autorickshaw in a sea of blue, incongruous amid the haphazard construction and jumble of dangling wires. Down the narrow, cramped lane is more wall art, this time of women from different countries playing football .
Deep in the south of Delhi, across the road from the shiny Saket malls, the urban village of Khirki represents so many things: an unauthorised colony that was once farmland, a crumbling, historical site with Tughlaq-era monuments, a muse to artists, a melting pot of cultures. Abutting Khirki village is Khirki Extension, where small-time entrepreneurs, labourers, sweatshop workers, artists from across the world, people from Nigeria, Somalia, Ivory Coast and Afghanistan, sometimes here to access medical care, all live. Hindu shrines and African prayer rooms, Indian dhabas and Afghani canteens co-exist.
And this chaotic, fast-changing, colourful and diverse urban village has caught the attention of historians, photographers, artists and architects who study, document and engage in their own way with Khirki.
Some of the wall art is courtesy Khoj, an artists association, which acquired studio space in Khirki in 2002 about the time the Saket malls were being built. “Our community art practice began as a way to get to know our neighbours and for our neighbours to get to know us. One of our earliest projects was Khirki Ki Khoj, where artists gave makeovers to shops,” says Khoj curator and programme manager Radha Mahendru.
Stories from long ago
Ekta Chauhan grew up in a joint family in Khirki village. Though Chauhan, a tourism consultant, moved out three years ago, she keenly remembers the stories her grandparents told her about how the village once was all farmland, with a seasonal stream so pure they could drink straight from it. As the village began to get circumscribed by the city, Chauhan tried to preserve the memories through heritage walks. She begins the walks at the crumbling Satpula dam, an ancient water harvesting weir, and the last remaining wall of the city of Jahapanah established around 1326 by Muhammad bin Tughlaq. The walk ends at the majestic Khirki Masjid built in 1351 by Khan-i-Jahan Junaan Telangani, the prime minister of Feroz Shah Tughlaq. This structure, a unique melange of Islamic and Hindu architecture with four uncovered courtyards and Rajput-inspired jharoka windows, served as shelter to many people during the riots following Partition. It is in a state of disrepair but there is a quiet beauty about its interiors and its endless arches.
The gateway to Satpula dam
Archiving it
Chauhan also reached out to Malvika Bhatia, programme head at the Citizens’ Archive of India (CAI), which records and archives personal stories of Indian citizens. Chauhan now interviews elders from the village for CAI’s oral history project, which transcribes, processes, edits the footage and archives it.
Bhatia says the Khirki project gives her an opportunity to explore the flux in a village that has come to be surrounded by some of the glitziest neighbourhoods. She is interested also in the traditional systems that existed within the historic space.
Architect Rajesh Dongre, who once had a studio in Khirki, started the Khirkee village urban walk for the Institute of Urban Designers India a couple of months ago to study its historical architecture. Dongre, whose particular fascination is for Khirki Masjid, is trying to work with municipal bodies to improve the environment around the monuments, create a map, and generate more interest for the structures.
The graceful arches of Khirki Masjid
Khirki has not been immune to religious tensions or instances of racism, targeted especially at the African community. Many have had to leave the village. In response to these events, there have been initiatives to help people go beyond language and cultural barriers. Photographer Mahavir Singh Bisht and urban researcher and photographer Malini Kochupillai edit Khirkee Voice , a quarterly community publication that aims to provoke thought and promote inclusiveness. About 1,500 copies of the newspaper are distributed free in the neighbourhood. “Through Khirkee Voice , I try and say that this is a special place and there is great value in it, and what's wrong can be fixed,” says Kochupillai. Architect Swati Janu, created a digital archive of oral histories from different communities to encourage cultural exchange.
A four-day Khirkee Festival last December had people from different communities in Khirki set up food stalls, and perform street theatre; there was a music group called Khirkee Ensemble and a female arm-wrestling competition. Yues Ugon from Ivory Coast, a Khirki resident, who helps visitors from Africa access medical care in Delhi, set up a food stall and served a traditional dish of banana and fish fry. “I’ve lived in other neighbourhoods in Delhi but Khirki village has a unique vibe, there’s life on the streets even at midnight, it is cosmopolitan,” he says.
It is possible to be meditative in the chaos and colour of Khirki, which is possibly why its unique fabric continues to rouse interest. “For me, Khirki is a laboratory to understand spaces that make people feel like they belong to it,” says Kochupillai.
The writer is a freelance journalist, lover of cakes, chai, bookshops and good yarns.
