A few days ago, I messaged my roommate saying, “I will be out late tonight; see you in the morning!”
Two days later, I sent the same text at the same time. The day after that, she decided to join me to see what the fuss was all about and found herself in the streets of Jama Masjid at 3 am, mesmerised.
For me, this had become almost an annual ritual (save for the two years of the pandemic) ever since I moved to Delhi eight years ago: Being out on the streets at ungodly hours after work all through the month of Ramzan. I discovered the joys of this festive season during the first five years of my job in Lucknow. The city inculcated in me the values of secularism and taught me how good food should taste. Visiting different night markets after work during Ramzan was a routine affair then.
But this is Delhi — the city notorious for being one of the most unsafe for women. Years ago, while in two minds about attending a dear friend’s wedding for “safety reasons”, I remember asking an editor, “Sir, is Delhi really that unsafe for women at night?” That was for 8.30pm.
Much has happened since, but Delhi still feels nerve-wracking at all times of the day, let alone the night. And working for the Delhi section of a daily newspaper has not exactly made things easier for me.
But this time of the year is different.
A view of the Jama Masjid in old Delhi. (Express photo by Deepika Singh)
I don’t clearly remember my first post-midnight Ramzan jaunt in Delhi but I remember that it was in Jama Masjid, after work, and that I didn’t feel unsafe. I saw more people out on the streets at that hour than I had seen even in the day. People were eating, laughing, shopping, preparing for sehri. Around 4.30am, sitting on a ledge inside the iconic mosque, watching rows of people from another religion pray, bowing, kneeling and rising in perfect tandem gave me a kind of peace and calm that is rare for this city.
Over the years, I discovered other places I could venture out at night during Ramzan besides Jama Masjid — Nizamuddin, Zakir Nagar, Shaheen Bagh. Each had its specialities, but each one made me feel happy, welcomed, and safe.
On all of those visits, I usually had company. But last year, on chaand raat, a friend I was supposed to go with dropped out. “Are you going alone? Be safe, please,” said a colleague as I got off the office cab at 2.30am in Zakir Nagar. If there was any hesitation on my part, it melted away immediately. I walked in confidently, almost blinded by the bright lights and festivities. People were out and about with family and friends, finishing last-minute Eid shopping, relishing their favourite foods.
Amidst them, I was an anomaly: A single woman from outside their area and their faith, bumbling about. But within a few minutes, I had become one of their own. Shafiq bhai, whom I had last seen before the pandemic, instantly recognised me and sent over what are arguably the best chicken tikkas in town; strangers helped me bargain for bangles (“Rs 150 is too much for a set like this. Tell him 80 and no more!”); a woman clicked photos for me as I was getting my mehendi done, another offered to reach into my pockets to pay the artist since I had my hands busy; multiple people guided me towards the best biryani in the area, and others helped me select some exquisite crockery. I came home around 5am, after an e-rickshaw driver went out of his way to find me an auto, with my shopping bags and my heart full.
From kebabs to keema to biryani, markets at Jama Masjid, Nizamuddin and Shaheen Bagh turn into a foodie’s paradise during the month of Ramzan. (Express photo by Deepika Singh)
As usual, last night, I repeated the drill. This time, I had company in the form of three other female colleagues — all single, independent and wary of Delhi.
It was a little dull at the point where the cab dropped us but we soldiered on, holding each other close. And sure enough, a world of joy and festivity opened up. We ate to our heart’s content, shopped a little bit, and caught the mehendi artists just in time before they could wind up.
Sitting on an e-rickshaw on our way back at 4.30am, one of my friends exclaimed: “I can’t believe we are doing this, in Delhi!”
But that’s Delhi, always ready to take you by surprise. And as they say, “sheher logon se banta hai (it is the people who make a city).” Indeed.
Eid Mubarak, everyone. Love and light to all.
deepika.singh@expressindia.com
