We are cruising past Mehrauli when we see a nursery and a display of large pots in the sandy area under a Metro overpass. Looking to make progress on our roof setup, we talk to the guy with the pots. He brings us down a back road to see a wider selection, and the sounds of the main road immediately fade. We cross over a bubbling brook and pass a small local Dargah capped with smooth green domes. The stash of pots is just behind the Dargah and, with birds twittering and sunlight filtering through trees, feels like a traditional place of craftsmanship. The pots selected and ready for whitewashing, we retrace our steps to the main road. A tiny yellow butterfly delights us as we cross the stream.
We choose our plants and, as we wait for them to be potted, take in the self-contained domain under the overpass. An old, rail-thin, white-bearded man has a rack of women's clothing for sale. He looks forlornly into the passing traffic. A few young women have a shop selling packets of 1-rupee paan and 20-rupee chips, hanging from a string between overpass columns. At the next set of columns, two middle-aged guys who probably drive or pedal for a living are relaxing in symmetry, head-to-foot, both their legs angling up onto a column to create a perfect V. The plant store is understaffed, and its youngest employee is running around between exasperated customers. A billboard overlooks the whole scene, showing Modi handing a kerosene cannister to a smiling woman in a burqa.
When the pots and plants are ready we hail 2 autos and, with a 5-person effort, manage to stuff all our purchases inside. Mallika's auto has branches coming out either door. We make it back to Safdarjung after the successful adventure, possibly never to see the pots guy or the stream or the Dargah again.
Perhaps this area is central to the lives of 300 people, or 1/100,000th of the population of Delhi. A drop in the bucket, and yet a world in itself. Nor an especially outstanding world; no ancient tombs or fine markets. And yet, like all the others, this world is unique. There can never be a comprehensive list of all of Delhi's worlds. No one can see them all. But you know one when you see it, and we at least never come away feeling less than incredibly fortunate to have grabbed a few moments in a new world.