Delhiwale: The world from Kamran’s roof

Look at the people in these multi-storeyed households. So much of their daily life is starkly visible from this high-altitude vantage point. But the roof’s best aspect — its utmost calmness — cannot be seen, only felt.
This is Kamran’s roof. In contrast to the modern concrete blocks standing on the side, the young man’s old-fashioned house in the Walled City is a mishmash of many floors, linked by a phalanx of long and short staircases. The residence belongs to a family of traditional silversmiths, although its youngest descendant’s recycling business deals with metal of all kinds.
“I don’t come to the chhat very often, but each time I come, I feel this same shanti,” says Kamran. Despite the many storeys, his hilly neighbourhood of Gali Pahari Darziyan lies marooned in slow life, and his own house is snugly tucked towards the lane’s more silent end. “Until five-six years ago, our chhat used to be the highest point here, we could even see the Jama Masjid.”
Kamran, however, is used to the world of tall buildings. For he partly lives in the city of Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest structure. “I first went to Dubai 11 years ago, where I gradually built a career in scrap metal trading.” He explains how a metal object is stripped off its many layers by the rehearsed hands of a scrap metal worker, the metallic segments of that discarded item emerging out one by one, like pieces from a buried treasure, and how these recovered metals are resurrected into a new life cycle.
Kamran picks up his mobile and shows a photo of two men sorting through a pile of metal scrap. “They helped me learn precious things about metals that they themselves learned after a lifetime of work.” The mobile has a rose petal preserved on the back cover.
Wandering about the roof, Kamran says that construction work will soon start on his family residence. The new house will resemble the north-facing housing blocks, he says. Which means that these labyrinthine staircases, stencilled windows, and tiny courtyards will vanish. This roof, too.
“I know by heart the chappa-chappa of our makaan, it contains my childhood… but everything comes with an expiry date, and time is running out for this building.”
It is now raining. Kamran stays on the roof for some moments, and finally goes down as the rain picks up intensity.