India, May 24 -- The temple is locked. The pink door is tightly shut. So much so that pushing it doesn't make the two panels loosen even slightly. The temple is almost always locked. In spite of that, it gives the street its identity. Old Delhi's Gali Mandir Wali is very small, very narrow, and is home to around 20 families. A passerby remarks that a priest does occasionally visit the temple, and when he does, he keeps the door open for a few hours. Emanating from Pahari Bhojla, the gali is deserted this afternoon. It ends with a house. The door of this last house is open, the curtain is wavering due to the strong breeze. A woman in black burqa steps out of this door. She stops outside the temple, curious about the visitor. Although she has never been inside the mandir, she confidently says it is dedicated to Bhagwan Krishna. Her reason: "This mandir may or may not open most days of the year, but it is always open during the festival of Krishna Janmashtami." She says that she is told that the street's last Hindu family moved out in the 1980s. "They now live in the newer parts of Delhi, which is more open, more airy." The lane has another edifice of notable architecture. It is completely discoloured, perhaps the paint peeled off long ago. The structure is certainly old, being made of lakhori bricks, the building material of the past. Inside, the darkened staircase is cobwebbed in corners. The stairs go up, opening into a residential terrace decorated with vines of money plant. But the floor is littered with tree leaves. A massive foliage of peepal is forming a canopy upon the terrace. The sight is extraordinary, for it is rare to spot a tree in this part of the congested historic quarter. A middle-aged man steps out of a room ahead. Muhammed Imtiaz was born in this very house, he says. An electrician specialising in "house wiring," he points out that the peepal leaning upon his terrace stands in the courtyard of the neighbouring mandir. Eager to show his street's principal landmark, he escorts the visitor to an additional flight of stairs, and waves his arm towards the direction of the temple. Its steeple, invisible until now, abruptly comes into view. The tower is simple and beautiful, resembling the shikhar of a village mandir. A bird is perched atop the its highest point. She soon flies into the leaves of the peepal, and is no longer seen....