A whole world toils without ACs, or even fans

NEW DELHI - You may cringe and curse and hurry to get inside your air-conditioned car or office. But Delhi is full of people toiling hard under a scorching sun without any beat-the-heat luxuries. Most of the time they are thankful for the shade of a tree.

“I place my cart under a tree or behind a high-rise for respite from the heat,” says Om Datt Sharma, simply. The 31-year-old is physically challenged and sells paan and cigarettes on his hand-driven cycle cart donated by the government in the busy Connaught Place area in the heart of Delhi.

But with this year’s April being the hottest in Delhi in 52 years, doesn’t he need more than just the shade of a tree? His cart also has a couple of telephones with a signboard reading ‘Make STD/ISD calls’, but no fans.

“Installing a fan will cost me Rs.40-50 every time I charge the battery. I cannot afford that; so I prefer to bear the physical hardship rather than the economic one,” Sharma told IANS.

There is a whole world in Delhi that exists and survives without the luxury of ACs, coolers or even fans. Go to any under-construction flyover and see men and women making do with just the steel and concrete over their head, even their toddler children lying in a daze.

Every year, the heat claims many lives in Delhi, but life still goes on for people who have to work in the open.

Bahori Lal Gupta, 63, has been selling fruits for the last 35 years on Parliament Street. He sits on the pavement outside a multi-storeyed building and has tree leaves for a roof.

“I wrap my head with a wet cloth and sprinkle cold water on my face and arms,” says Gupta. He also drinks a lot of water and fans himself with a newspaper every now and then.

He has a plastic sheet, about the size of a blackboard on which he places himself and his wares. “I can’t do much about my lower limbs. When the pavement gets too hot, I feel like the blood in my legs and feet is boiling, resulting in numbness,” adds Gupta.

Probably with the intention of making light of his sorrows, Gupta jokes that the time taken by him to reach home in the evening on foot is directly proportional to the mercury reading during the day.

Naresh, 49, who operates a weighing machine at a Metro station, “shifts locations, sometimes more than five times a day” to make sure the heat does not take its toll on him even though the busy places that get him the best business are often without any shade.

“It is tough, but nothing is more valuable than your life,” he says.

Shiv Prasad, 63, has two gas stoves operating in front of him full-throttle all through the day, churning out tea, omelettes and pakoras. He runs the roadside food stall near the bustling Pragati Maidan fairgrounds and banishes any thought of discomfort from his mind.

“I will have to compromise with my family’s food if I start thinking about my comfort,” Prasad told IANS. “One should not be afraid of hardships in life,” he says.

As the mercury continues its northward journey, air-conditioners and other means of cooling at workplaces witness extensive use, also making power cuts an unavoidable reality. But for hundreds of people, who have migrated to the capital and make a living in the open, all that is a far cry.