The round the corner tea shack is the only shop that opens at 6A.M. - a rickshaw pullers only haunt. People here wake up an hour and half later than the rest of Delhi. The missing of morning newspaper, ever since I shifted here 4 months back is more than offsetted by the conversations, gossips - that to me is a thresh hold to a new world - that takes place among the rickshawpullers, laborers and in this small hut and which has graced me with moral duty to highlight there plight and take up their cause under the aegis of our newly formed Organisation: " movement for Economic Democracy". I share with you excerpts of their conversation adverbtim.
May 2008 Sunday
I was in the hut, 5 minutes walk away from my one room tenement at Okhla- predominantly Muslim locality close to now dried up and wasted river Yamuna.
" Brought medicines yesterday. Heaviness in the head and nausea go away"
said Rafi the rickshaw puller, emaciated , in his 20's who has taken to the job 6 month back.
"Nothing left in Delhi - prices are soaring - better labour in fields of others in the village"
Said Bholoo a middle aged one.
"But he has 3 sisters to marry " said the tea vendor pointing towards Rafi " I asked him, six days ago to go to medical( All India Institute of Medical Sciences) W hat does this quack know what has gone inside. They do free x-ray over there ."
"Why didn't you whirl your cycle chain at them - I would have done it if I had been in your place" said another in sandow and a piece of cloth wound around his lower torso.
" Easier said than done" said the tea vendor "Who cares about us - not even the police - we are always wrong always a suspect (of delinquency) - on street, in markert, in mosques, in shrines- one day they checked the bag of loharoo while he was coming out of mosque to ensure that he was not carrying away the sandals of the faithfuls".
