New Delhi, street life, and dancing with traffic.

New Delhi street life is a complex melange of colour, class, and seeming chaos.

New Delhi. New Delhi is one of those cities that exists beyond the realm of easy comprehension. It is a truly poststructuralist metropolis. One one way it is a more consistent urban environment than any other I have witnessed: there is a pervasive sense that nobody, save perhaps the gods, is in charge. This is not to say that Delhi is lawless or a hotbed of license, although it is I am sure by no means crime-free. The people are warm and their smiles genuine. But, there is a lot to take in, and more than a quick exchange of smiles might been being crushed by the traffic, which is in large part ungoverned, composed of all types of vehicle, and unimpeded by pedestrians. If I were to write a traffic handbook for driving in Delhi it would contain just one rule: she who honks loudest goes first. Bicycles contend with juggernauts on the freeways, and small-displacement motorcycles weave in and out of pedestrians on the unfinished streets of South Delhi’s bazaars. Life in Delhi happens on the street. Economically displaced country folk scrape a living cooking on the street, or fixing shoes, slipping into the interstices of the urban environment, building lean-to homes amongst the rubble of construction projects, and against the outer walls of the compounds of the wealthy neighbourhoods. But it is not just the sub-poor who live their lives on the street. Delhi streets are alive, colourful, a congress of people from many backgrounds. I hope the following images communicate some of the sense of wonder I feel being in the middle of it all.