Lutyens Delhi & a Man Buying Ladies Garment

Lutyens Delhi & a Man Buying Ladies Garment.
© Jayanta Mazumdar, 1963 Metallurgical Engineering

The year was 1972, and me, married in 1970 was living in the Sealdah area of Kolkata with my bride, my parents, and my two younger sisters. My bride was hailing from Jodhpur Park that was regarded as a prestigious locality. During that time, I was asked by my employer for a company visit to Delhi for a few days, I have to meet a client. That would be only my second visit to Delhi.

Earlier, in 1969 I was in Delhi only for a few days, just to witness the cricket match between India and Australia. It was from November 28 to December 2, 1969. It was the memorable days of mine and a memorable trip to Delhi because India defeated Australia by 7 wickets in the third Test at the Feroz Shah Kotla ground. Trailing by 73 runs in the first innings, India’s spinners ran through the Australians in the second innings for just 107 runs, paving the way for an easy chase. In this opportunity let me recollect the historic win:
First Innings: Australia posted 296 runs, mainly due to the magnificent 138 by Ian Chappell and 61 of Keith Stackpole. India responded with 223, anchored by Ashok Mankad’s 89.
Second Innings, the Australian Collapse: Australian batting lineup collapsed to all out. Spinners Erapalli Prasanna and Bishan Singh Bedi shared all 10 wickets between them.
The Indian Chase: Chasing a target of 181 runs, India reached 181/3. Ajit Wadekar led the way with an unbeaten 91 to secure the historic victory for India.
This game was also remarkable and a historic milestone for Indi as it marked the very first Test match played in India to be televised.

Coming back to my trip, I stayed with (late) Shyamal Ghosh, a classmate and very dear friend of mine. He was working with Union Carbide, Delhi office. He was a fine host living in a descent house in the Nizamuddin East, regarded as a posh area by the status conscious Delhi-ites. Shyamal was outraged that I would stay in a Delhi hotel while he was living in the same city, and so ultimately I became his guest at his insistence cancelling my hotel booking.

On Saturday, Shyamal proposes to take me to the Khan Market, not very far, explaining that this market was the favorite of the residents of the Lutyens Delhi, and would be crowded each Saturday by the highbrows — the fashionably dressed women and impressive looking men from there. And also visited by many foreigners, working in so many foreign embassies. But we decided to restrict ourselves sitting in a bar and watch the scenario over our chilled beer.

Once cozily seated in the bar there, I remember that I do have an errand not yet completed and I asked Shyamal to carry on alone for five minutes while I would quickly make a specific shopping . My bride, no doubt that she was fashionable lady, had made just one request, that from Delhi, I bring a few pieces of under garments of a specific brand which was yet to hit Kolkata market. And, so just across the pub, I pushed the entry door of a shining shop selling ladies dresses and under garments.

As I enter, a counter is right across me, manned (?) by a young woman. She looks at me a bit surprised. I approach her and ask her to show me the said item of a specific brand. She is astonished but asks me for the size. I was not prepared for such question, but smartly I told her that I my wife was more or less built like that shop owner girl herself. She was then attacked in her second shock, but goes inside to collect what I want and then place on the counter three packets mentioning the brands and the sizes. Then she proceeds to write the bill. I intervened and asked her to open just one of the packs for me before I pay, so that I ensure I was buying what my wife wanted. The high- strung sales girl can’t take it any more. She runs to the manager, the only male staff visible in the shop. The manager approaches me, a middle-aged, well dressed, smiling man and asks— how can I help you Sir?

Then through dialogues with him I gather from the owner / manager, that, I was probably the first male buyer in recent time asking for ladies dresses in his shop, because usually only the ladies alone visit his shop, and only in few rare occasions a lady is accompanied by a male, her husband, he remains silent.

To my questioning eyes, the manager reveals that in Lutyens Delhi, and for that matter in entire North India, the proud males consider it was below dignity to shop on behalf of spouses; it’s too feminine, and they would be branded by all as—Joru Kaa Gulam—Servant of the Wife. I could not resist my temptation and say —But when a male here (a husband) burns his bride alive, often impaled by his parents and brothers, for not bringing in sufficient dowries from her parent— he is regarded as a he-man? Is not it so?

The seasoned manager did not bother to respond, keeps his silence, prepares the bill, accepts my money, and hands over the packets to me with an un-expected request—Do visit again Sir, next time you are in Delhi.

Jayanta Mazumdar.
Kolkata. March 12, 2026.

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