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LATEST NEWS UPDATES | Labouring for the Commonwealth Games by CP Surendran

Labouring for the Commonwealth Games by CP Surendran

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published Published on Jul 18, 2010   modified Modified on Jul 18, 2010

Behind Delhi's radical makeover for the Commonwealth Games are 150,000 migrants labourers toiling hard to meet the October deadline. TOI-Crest gives this silent workforce a name and a face.

Thirty-five-year old Vijay is from Sagar village in Madhya Pradesh. His thekedar, who makes regular trips to the villages to round up skilled and unskilled labourers, had told him he'd be working on the beautification of Delhi University roads under the Commonwealth Games Project.

The day Vijay arrived at the Old Delhi Railway station, it poured. For a scheduled caste ahirwar, inured to the varied uses and abuses of society at large, the train journey itself was only an extension of his uncomfortable, untouchable life. Consider the facts.

No one paid for Vijay's train fare, though under the labour laws he was entitled to it. The heat was overpowering, but at least that couldn't be blamed on the Games organisers. The fans didn't work. There was filth all over the compartment. There was no drinking water. No, no, that's not true, "There was no water." At all? "At all. The children cried all the time."

But, alas, in Delhi, Vijay's lot worsened even by his own ever-falling standards. The weather got wetter and weepier as the night deepened. Vijay and his family suddenly were the forcible recipients of free and plentiful supply of water, the commodity they could never normally get enough of. And they were stuck in the middle of the road in a new city that by and large believes kindness is a kind of affliction contracted by the weak of heart. Vijay worried for his four children, ranging from 6 months to 9 years. "Bechare bachchon ko dikkat hoti hai, hum ko koi phark nahin..."

Well, late that first night, Vijay and his family reached the Delhi University area. Somebody, a thekedar doppelganger, directed them to the footpath across the Khalsa College, the place he was born to beautify. "Where will we sleep?" Vijay asked. Bathing and crapping were also on his mind. But one thing at a time, he thought. Vijay was directed to his place of work. He'd be sleeping in his new office. The dug-up footpath where he was to lay the lovely pink stones would function as work place during day time, bedroom at night.

Earlier, when the thekedar in the flesh had met Vijay at his village, they had had a friendly cup of tea. The thekedar had paid for the tea from his own pocket. "The thekedar told me there'd be quarters or something," Vijay said without conviction. He was not accusing the thekedar of anything. He was merely observing without rancour that he had been arsed, again.

This is despite the fact that labour legislation - for instance, the Interstate Migrant Workmen's Act, 1979 - says migrant workers should be taken care of in terms of quarters and medical facilities. But, then, the labour laws also stipulate that unskilled workers like Vijay should be paid Rs 203 for eight hours' work, and that one day in a week should be given off.

What Vijay gets though is Rs 150. If that approximate difference of Rs 50 is multiplied by the conservative estimate of 150,000 labourers (there were at one time over 400,000 in Delhi), it will give you a rough idea of the money some of the civilised people in Delhi are making a day, down the chain of principal employer, contractor , sub contractor and thekedar. This is money from labourers alone. Kickbacks, commissions, and consultation fees go separately in suit and tie.

In a civil society this ought to be a scandal. Organisations like PUDR ( People's Union of Democratic Rights) and others have fought to focus attention on the labour issue. But, it is not even a scam, simply because we are devotees of marble tiles and pink stones, not justice. Only, it seems a little extravagant that the motto of the Commonwealth Games is Humanity, Equality, Destiny.

Neither does Vijay know that if he is required to do four hours over time, he should be paid Rs 406. What is the bet his contractor is claiming the extra allowance in Vijay's name? Because there really is no paper showing Vijay is working at all in Delhi. He is not registered with the labour welfare commission.

MP is one of the states in India which practises casteism with export quality cynicism. Ask Vijay. But in terms of exploitation, clearly the Sultanate of Delhi is not too far behind. Nearly half a millennium ago, Shah Jahan was building what is now Old Delhi. Was the lot of the slave labourer then any different from Vijay mixing cement for the new New Delhi? Not very, it appears.

The Games on a conservative estimate, cost about Rs 7,000 crore. The related infrastructure developments are tagged at over Rs 20,000 crore. Some of it was meant for Vijay. In May, Justice A P Shah, former Chief Justice of Delhi High Court, released a report by the Housing and Land Rights Network (HLRN), which found out that Rs 264.95 crore meant exclusively for the benefit of scheduled caste communities had been diverted for infrastructure development for the Commonwealth Games.

So in a very central way, Vijay and people like him from MP, UP, Bihar and Chhattisgarh - who form the bulk of the labour population in the city - are underwriting the capital's beauty drive. But, no matter how much money the government spends on cosmetic drives, a city will look clean and good, only if poverty is removed. Which is why the Games are a cruel sport in splurging.

Does all this make Vijay angry?
"Nahi, pareshaan hain, saab."
"In Deewar, the hero Amitabh Bachchan has your name."
"Didn't see Deewar."
"Who's your favourite hero? Salman Khan?"
"She," Vijay points at his wife, Suman, who is also an unskilled worker. You look at the frail Suman. She has two kids on her hips and one hugging her legs. No hero has to fight so many odds.


The Times of India, 18 July, 2010, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Slave-labour-in-svelte-Delhi/articleshow/6182947.cms


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