Mumbai Diary: The story of a proud Mumbaikar, a migrant from Uttar Pradesh

Naresh Lalaram(40) survived in Mumbai for 20 years by working initially as a utensil cleaner-cum- sweeper in an Udupi restaurant in Worli. He took up washing cars early in the morning at a nearby ‘Tower’. He then taught himself how to cook and became a cook in the same restaurant. He also saved enough to share a ‘kholi’ in a nearby slum with four others. It was better than sleeping on the pavement outside the restaurant, he explained.

He thought he had a reasonably good life. He got married, had children. His family is in the village with his father who works as a part-time sweeper-cum-watchman in the village Tehsildar’s office in Aligarh. Last year he bought a small parcel of land in his village and planned to build a small house.

But then the pandemic struck. Millions of migrants emerged from construction sites, factories, and other workplaces, jobless and without any social security. Hungry and abandoned, their sav- ings depleting fast, the only option left was a long march back home. Naresh however decided to linger in the city.

Twenty years in Mumbai had made him tougher and resilient. Unfortunately for Naresh, his area was declared a ‘containment zone’. He was con- fined to the slum. The Udupi restaurant shut shop for good and the owner left for Belgaum. Initially he was not worried about himself weekly ration was supplied by the nearby Mumbai Police chowki. He would possibly survive if he did not catch COVID-19, and if he managed to pay the rent. In the worst-case scenario, he was prepared to sleep on the pavement again.

But he worried about his family as he had not sent money home for the past two months. He contemplated selling the plot of land. He spoke to his father but soon realised that the distress-sale prices being offered were pathetic. Naresh called me out of the blue yesterday. I know him because he used to wash my car. I thought he might request for a loan and was calculating mentally how much I could spare, when he declared he was calling to say goodbye.

He was going back home. What turned out to be the last straw, he explained, was when Mumbai Police stopped delivering ration at the doorstep. Several policemen had tested COVID-19 positive and door-to-door delivery was not possible. They were now expected to reach the police chowki and squat indefinitely in the Sun, three feet apart and with masks on, waiting to collect the ration.

Naresh told me, ‘Sir hum bhikhari nahi hain. Mehnat karke roji kamata tha. Kal shahar chor ke ja raha hoon,’ (I am not a beggar, sir. I earned by the sweat of my brow. I am leaving the city tomorrow). COVID-19 and lack of our empathy had not robbed him of his sense of dignity and pride in his work. I had mixed feelings as I put the phone down. There was a tinge of sadness but also the growing belief that with people like Naresh Lalaram around, there is still hope for the nation.