The first Afghans who travelled to India came in the 10th and 11th century AD, as invading parties accompanying the infamous Ghaznavid and Ghorid armies of Afghanistan. Invaders soon turned into settlers, and when the Sultanate was founded, Afghan immigration proliferated as India was gradually transforming into a land of new opportunities. By the late 17th and 18th centuries, Afghans had gradually moved up the social ladder and had carved out small niches of power that corresponded to both regional and cultural authority in central and southern India. As they gained more power as autonomous rulers, they enjoyed considerable power and led lavish lives.
The story of cultural integration between Afghanistan and India is centuries old. In the past few decades, however, the nature and dynamics of the migration have changed drastically, which corresponds to the deteriorating nature and conditions of Afghanistan over time. In present-day Afghanistan, terrorist outfits like the Taliban lurk in every nook and corner making life extremely suffocating for the country’s ‘citizens’. The unending war that the people of Afghanistan are fighting for freedom has led to the depletion of the nation’s resources, forcing its citizens to find refuge elsewhere. They seek asylum in countries such as Sweden and Norway by illegally crossing the Afghan-Iran border and are often deported back in a few years’ time. Increasing scrutinization by western countries through anti-immigration laws has also led to the suffering of many Afghans who are trying to escape persecution at home.
For numerous war-torn Afghans, the only recluse is to look for asylum in the eastern hemisphere. Unlike their forefathers who rode into India as conquerors and led a life of luxury, today’s Afghans who travel to India are in the search of peace and safety, commodities more valuable and luxurious than what their ancestors ever enjoyed or owned. As their diaspora expanded in India, it led to small concentrated clusters of Afghans. Refugee colonies sprung up in the heart of South Delhi in Lajpat Nagar and Saket, where many Afghans have established their businesses and livelihoods.
At Lajpat Nagar, the Afghan refugee colony has now been nicknamed ‘Little Kabul’ and ‘Kabul Street’. One can find Afghan men, women, and children roaming around in the market, often haggling with the shopkeepers in broken Hindi. As you move towards the residential blocks there is almost a gradual shift in the air. The signboards are not readable and the chatter on the streets indecipherable as they are filled with Pashtun speaking Afghans wearing distinctively Afghan clothing. Both sides of the streets are filled with different establishments owned by Afghan patrons, most of these restaurants, pharmacies, grocery shops, and travel agencies. Apart from these, small stalls and eateries line the streets that are overflowing with Afghani naan, sambosas, and sweets. Some innovative Afghans use the baked flat-bread and fill it with kabobs, spicy vegetables, and different varieties of sauces, creating a fast-food out of everyday Afghan cuisine aptly named “Afghan burger”.
Little Kabul is a place brimming with different kinds of stories. Ali, an 18-year-old flat-bread seller from Mazar-e-Sharif, greets everyone with a shy smile. In broken Hindi, which he is fast learning how to speak, he says that he has been in Delhi for two years, but unfortunately has not found enough time to look around Delhi. “I wish I can go back home soon”, says Ali, who came to India in search of a job. Abaas, a staff member at a footwear shop which also works as a travel agency says that “the only difference today between India and Afghanistan is that India is safe, and that is why so many Afghans have come here. We want to live here so that we can be safe from the Taliban”.
Although many Afghans travel to India for medical purposes, there are many more like Ali and Abaas who travel in search of a normal, simple life. Saeed, a roadside vendor in Lajpat Nagar left Afghanistan in 2006 when the war was at its peak. “I just wanted to earn some money so that I can build a house back home”, he says with the glitter of dying hope in his eyes. After traversing different countries he settled in India, doing odd jobs to send his daughters to school. A huge fan of Salman Khan, Saeed says “the world is made of good people and bad people, and that is it.”
From the 11th to the 18th century the laws that governed the land were perhaps less rigid and empires were a cauldron of diverse ethnicities often encouraging immigration and even inculcating their food, fabric, and language with their own native ones. However, times have changed and nation-states not empires are the most legitimate form of organizing territory and people. These ‘imagined communities’ often lean towards exclusionary policies when it comes to immigrants and refugees to preserve their so-called distinct identities. Despite this trend, the existence of ‘Little Kabul’ in the heart of Delhi is not only evidence of its reminiscent cosmopolitan structure, but it is also a valid depiction of its history of inclusiveness and cultural integration. In this little lane, the Delhiites and Afghans mingle as if in the Mughal court, where borders were more porous and citizenship less rigid.
Dastaan-E-Dilli 