Cold Comfort

More than 1.6 lakh homeless men and women freeze on Delhi’s streets. MORGAN HARRINGTON spends some hours with them

SURROUNDED BY the bustle of Paharganj, the sprawling marketplace that lies adjacent to New Delhi Railway Station, a large group of men stand idly in front of a stack of bricks. This is one of the city’s many meeting points for labourers, many of whom don’t have a place to return to at the end of the day.These men spend their days doing manual labour. They are migrants from across the country. “There is no work in Lucknow,” says Deepak Pandi. “I have been here for three months working with a contractor, loading bags onto trucks, but I still can’t afford a room.”

Subrata De, programme manager of Action Aid’s homeless outreach programme, Aashray Adhikar Abhiyan, says, “The loss of rural livelihoods forces these people to flock to the city. Many of them are unwanted.” According to Action Aid, there are an estimated 1.6 lakh homeless people in Delhi; of these 10,000 are women. More than 75 percent of them are single mothers; some are HIV carriers; many mentally ill. Action Aid ran a separate shelter for women (accommodating about 90) for three years; this was closed down in June 2007 when MCD took over that land to build a warehouse.

“I came here to find work one month ago. I go to weddings and parties and get work as a waiter and dishwasher. I wonder, when will I go to a party and have someone serve me coffee,” says Shiv Gopani, from a village near Moradabad, Uttar Pradesh. Arun Jha, 35, came to Delhi from Bihar 19 years ago and has been homeless since. “If we had work back home, why would we come here?”

After a day’s work, men rush to AAA’s shelter in Chandni Chowk. Public urinals girt the shelter, a moat for the dispossessed. Tucked into the side of the building is an open-air rubbish tip. A bulldozer lifts the refuse into a truck, and when the space is cleared, those not fortunate enough to be inside the shelter scurry to light fires and hunker down for the chilly night.

It was an unusually cold week in New Delhi, with the mercury dropping as low as 2.3 Celsius. In 2002, the frozen corpses of 3,040 homeless persons were found. The MCD has since intervened, providing 19 temporary shelters (basically tents) and subsidising the cost of stay (Rs 12 per night) during the coldest months. This has helped lower deaths — 50 in Delhi and the neighbouring UP area after the New Year’s cold snap. NGOs can put the pressure on the government, but as De laments, “The state is simply not doing enough!”

EVEN BEFORE sunset, the shelter is crammed. “We can fit about 150 men in here, but last night we had over 250.” Those left behind are accommodated in a tent. The main room of the shelter is about the size of a basketball court and is packed with row upon row of bodies cramped together on the floor under identical orange and brown blankets. All eyes rest, transfixed, on the television perched on the wall — the only piece of “furniture” in the room.

“Those who are too drunk or high are forced to wait outside until they sober up. The people come here with many expectations but they have to be lucky not to end up as addicts,” says a caretaker at the shelter, himself homeless in Delhi for the past decade.

Senior citizens have tales to tell. Ram Gopal, 73, repaired Ambassadors for a living. Imported cars and computerised technology rendered his skills useless. Joginder Singh is 90. His “drunkard, money-loving sons” sold his property and left him destitute. A severe stomach problem curtails his movement; he can eat but one roti a day. “I’ve been broken inside and outside. I drag my own corpse around every day.”

WRITER’S E-MAIL
morgs86@gmail.com