A glimpse of Ghalib

The renovated haveli of India's greatest poet could soon be the new tourist spot in Old Delhi

Walk down Chandni Chowk, past Sis Ganj Gurudwara Sahib, and turn left into a narrow and crowded but clean road as soon as you see the haveli of Seth Chunnamal, the richest citizen of 19th-century Delhi, on your right. This is Ballimaran. Walk a hundred yards or so, past shops, street vendors and even guest houses, and you will reach Gali Qasim Jaan. Ghalib's haveli is the third or fourth house on your left. The wooden gate of the house, which is old and fashioned in the Mughal way, is wide open to let visitors in. A green grocer has spread her wares on the road in front. Seventy-something Fakhruddin, the owner of the haveli, sits on a plastic stool at the gate. His grey beard is neatly trimmed and carries a faint stain of paan, a finely embroidered prayer cap rests on his ample head, and his tehmat and kurta are neat and freshly ironed.

Fakhruddin has handed over a part of the haveli, which is spread over 300 square yards, to the Archeological Survey of India. This part has been restored by ASI and the Indian Council of Cultural Relations. Elsewhere live Fakhruddin and his family as well as a handful of tenants. There are shops here too: Meraj Telecom Point and Fatima Opticals. This section of the haveli was converted into a museum in 2010. It has been redone now.

As you enter the haveli, on the right is a marble bust of the great poet (1797-1869) sculpted by Bhagwan Rampure and donated by Gulzar, the man who popularised Ghalib amongst a whole generation of Indians through his television serial in the 1990s. On the walls are vignettes from Ghalib's life, including pictures of his homes at Agra, Rampur and Benares, and his loveless marriage to Umrao Begum. There are two old Urdu books with exquisite calligraphy. There are replicas of dresses worn by Ghalib and his wife. This room, till a few years ago, was used as a coal dump.

In the other section of the museum, there is a mannequin dressed like Ghalib at work. A poster on the wall tells us what Ghalib liked to eat (kebabs, roasted mutton, et cetera) and the games he liked to play (chess, ganjifa cards, chopar, et cetera). His famous, though not the best, couplets are all over the place. The lampshades try to create the lights of Ghalib's era. A small hall, with a glass ceiling and a chandelier, can seat about 30 people for a small mushaira. One shelf contains some books on Ghalib, though not the most famous and sought-after ones. There is a music system that is meant to play Ghalib's ghazals while the museum is open to the public (from 11 in the morning till 5 in the evening). But it seems to be out of order today. The only visitors are three very young schoolgirls. They are soon taken away by their escort.

Fakhruddin, who has lived here all his life, says that when he was young nobody knew Ghalib stayed here. It is only in the 1990s that the people of Delhi made this discovery. As we prepare to leave, the music system comes to life. Strains of Gulzar's commentary on Ghalib float through the air. Is it worth a visit? Yes. Ghalib is the greatest Indian poet of all times. Does the stuff on display give you a good picture of his life and time? It offers just a glimpse, a snapshot. Aiwan-i-Ghalib in Central Delhi is the place to go for the real stuff. Will the haveli turn into a tourist destination? It could, given the quaintness of the place. As I exit from Gali Qasim Jaan, three rickshaw-loads of foreigners trudge towards the haveli.