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घर | ghar | home

  • Writer: Stuart Robertson
    Stuart Robertson
  • Apr 2
  • 2 min read

Updated: Apr 23


man at the driver's seat of a cart pulled by a white bull

Arriving at Delhi airport is always quite the experience. At 01:30AM on the 21st of January 2025 it’s around 12 degrees, but having arrived from London it may as well be 20. The runway lights illuminate the haze. Outside, the streetlights illuminate the maze of Maruti Suzuki Swifts, which you hear before you see. Gone are the mighty Hindustan Ambassadors I’ve known since my first visit. Although, some things are the same; commandos with rifles at the entrances, passengers sleeping in neat lines leading to the exits, the rich aroma of desh – country.



Not claiming to be a native, however, I lived in Delhi and worked for the Times of India newspaper from 1989 to 1996. So, when embarking on this chapter, I at least knew exactly where I wanted to live. Contrary to what someone might expect of a person relocating for one year, I did not finalise of my accommodation in advance. But somehow, on the same day I landed, I secured a beautiful colonial-era apartment in Sujan Singh Park after pushing through some viewings. A stone’s throw from Khan Market, surrounded by greenery and parrots perched on the building’s archways. Even while unfurnished, the apartment feels to me like a comforting hug. I feel its heartbeat. It won’t take much to make it Home.


ornate first floor balcony in Old Delhi

With everything that is happening around you, it's hard to notice the jetlag here. There are so many opportunities for street photography in New Delhi and I'm getting the itch from day one. Rest can wait, tiredness is unimportant right now. The same afternoon, 25 degrees, I travel to Amar market which is known for beautiful second-hand furniture. Giving new life to unwanted objects is not only wholesome, but worthwhile. The stacked, broken and teetering pieces resemble a miniature version of the cityscape, populated with tradespeople in woolly hats and varying postures. I negotiate prices on some of the pieces, and make new friends at the market stall – a delightful husband and wife team named Neha and Sachin. They live in a beautiful, ever-changing world dealing some of the most intricate and extravagant furnishings I’ve ever seen, some of which are used as film props and travel all over the world. I tell Neha and Sachin I will be back soon, and I mean it.



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