It is a well-documented fact that Khan Market is amongst the most expensive places to rent real estate for retail in the world. Going by what I've seen over the intermittent visits to the place over the last couple of years, I can add two other metrics in which Khan Market probably tops the rest of the country - the maximum number of hep aunties per square foot of retail space and the maximum number of stores selling overpriced bric-a-brac within a single complex (in fact, the density of hep aunties peaks in the bric-a-brac stores, so one might even be able to construct some sort of combined metric based on that). South Mumbai might come close in terms of absolute numbers, but Khan tops in density. It's almost impossible to walk around the place without seeing at least one woman somewhere between the ages of 30 and 45 in oversize shades, heels and tight jeans on her way into or out of a shop with scented candles in the display window.
Of course, this was not always the case. Many years ago, back in the mid-90's when liberalization was still in its first flush, we used to live in a government officers' colony a few kilometers down the road from Khan Market (more on that in a later post, hopefully). Back then it was a quiet, little market, with a sprinkling of bookshops- Bahri Sons, Faqir Chand etc - some random sari shops, a bunch of grocery stores and a couple of bakeries and small restaurants. A treat would involve eating Chinese food at China Fare or picking up pastries from Pat-a-Cake. Most of the crowd there would be other civil servants and their families, occasionally punctuated by the odd expat or two coming around to pick up meat and breakfast cereals and stuff and, for the lower rung expats, a cheap haircut at the saloon in the inside corner. By the early 2000's, when I was in college, the boom had just started in Khan market, with international franchises setting up shop and the civil service crowd replaced by what seemed like people who had turned up because they couldn't find parking at the M-Block market in GK.
And now it's come to this - hep aunties all over, more faux continental cafe/bistros than you can spend a moderate monthly salary in, and kids who look like they went to sleep with wet gel in their hair so the just-out-of-bed look has additional hold. I suppose it could be worse, though. They could have torn down the whole place and turned it into a mall.
Amazingly, I never went there when I was in Delhi.
ReplyDeleteYeah well we didn't go to Khan Market too often from college anyway, except if we wanted to go to IHC as well and dropped by at the market to see the hep aunties.
ReplyDeleteKhan Market: home of Music Shop, The Book Shop, and the best gol-guppas I ever ate.
ReplyDeleteThe gol-guppas were in the south indian restaurant at the back; it was one of the first to go, you can see a Nike showroom just like every other Nike showroom...or wait is it Reebok? or Benetton?
All, sadly, gone. There's no chaat in Khan anymore, who would have thought it? The gol-guppa guy actually moved around a bit until he disappeared.
Well there's still some book shops left and the rolls...though I agree, Khan has pretty much lost most of its charm.
Whats all this about hep aunties? You ogling at middle aged women now?
Not ogling. They're rather in-your-face.As are the hep bachchas. And the candle stores. I once spent an afternoon walking through all the bric-a-brac stores looking for a wedding gift. Most unnerving to see the stuff there. Can't imagine anyone putting all that stuff in their homes, unless they ran a bordello on the side or something. I usually feel very under-dressed and out-of-place every time I go to Khan Market these days. Come to think of it, I feel fairly out-of-place in most of Delhi, despite having spent most of my life there. Someday I shall actually complete a blog post on that.
ReplyDeleteI first went to Khan market in 2004, and it's changed so much in the last five years. Even Khan Chacha's has become hep, from a hole in the wall. You can't get a table at Big Chill at a reasonable time of the day, no matter what day it is. In December-January, I wandered into a shop selling awesome Christmas decorations wearing a faded sweatshirt and jeans and got a positively disgusted look from one of your hep aunties.
ReplyDeleteAnd there's a new restaurant open every time I go back.
ReplyDeleteThey aren't my hep aunties. They just are aunties, for lack of a better term (MILFs might almost apply, except that I'm not interested in F-ing them).
ReplyDeleteI must admit grudgingly that most of those restaurants are actually pretty good, even if they are pretentious. There's this new one called Mrs. Kaur's Crepes that claims to serve grilled sea bass or something for breakfast. In Delhi. In summer. It's all too much for my infra dig self.
I'm almost 2 years late, but a 20-something calling a 30-something "aunty"! ah the conceit of youth...
ReplyDeleteAh well 30-year olds are aunties, except when they are uncles. It's a fact of life.
ReplyDelete