There’s something about Khan Market that keeps calling me back — quietly, insistently — like a familiar book that refuses to stay closed.
Not for the shopping or the shimmer, but for its rhythm — that slow, old Delhi heartbeat that hums between conversations and coffee cups.

Tucked near Sujan Singh Marg, this market has its own pace — where polished glass fronts meet timeworn facades, and stories hide behind every corner.
And then, there’s — the one ..”Fakir Chand Book Store”

You don’t just walk into Fakir Chand.
You arrive.
The air smells faintly of paper, ink, and nostalgia — the kind that lingers long after you’ve left.
Right across, Bahrisons stands tall, refined and familiar (my another favourite)but Fakir Chand… it feels like home — a place that doesn’t need to change to stay relevant.

Each visit begins the same way:
“I’m just browsing,” I tell myself.
And each time, I walk out with three books — sometimes more — and a heart that feels strangely at peace.

Because Fakir Chand isn’t just a bookshop.
It’s a corner of time that still reads — softly, patiently — reminding me that some places don’t need to rush to matter.
They just are.
And somehow, that’s enough.

⸻Suvi’s Scribble’s