The Survival Games

Chapter 1-The Usual Day

My day would start with the essence of freshness sprinkled through the navy dark skies and my open-eyed dream infusing me with the zeal to work hard and earn the requisite to support my little family.

Like any other day, today was indifferent. I woke up and without waking my wife Camla, I headed to the Gusalkhana (Bathroom) to perform my regular hygiene. Being born in a Hindu brahmin(priest) family, I was taught the ideals and rules of routine living as customs to follow on daily basis which predominantly focussed on self-hygiene. One of the Hindu ideals that marked early regular bathing and praying, to keep away the evil from fouling your soul. I was not an atheist but also I was not a blind believer of religious ideologies that were preached in the society. After my hygiene chores, getting dressed up in navy blue pants and a creme white shirt. I pulled off my gamchcha (small towel like cloth usually used as a scarf) hung on a hook on the sidewall. I also picked up a few essential items and bagged up my theyla (bag) which consisted of the tools that earned me my daily bread. I caressed the forehead of my little munchkin who was sleeping care-free and simultaneously looked at Camla who was sleeping next to her and in a split second, a gentle grin garnished my lips and pursued me to walk to my destination. Closing the wooden gates of my Jhuggi (hut) that I lived in, I left the following narrow street and headed off to my work.

On my way to the city square, I had been thinking of the two most important people in my life. Upon reaching the mildly crowded square, I could see the men sitting and chit-chatting. I joined in and sat next to Manohar, a kind young man, probably aged 27yrs. He has only been working as a dehari mazdoor (daily wage worker) for six months. His gentle tone brought us close.

It was 6 am chit-chatting, the game time had begun. People started coming to the roads. The fresh air was now more vibrant with the sound of birds chirping from their nests. Many joggers and health-conscious people would route along this main city square for walks and the rest for multiple other works. Hiring us was one such thing.

The basic work I did was to follow the orders of my Raj (head construction labourer) to construct the walls, make the cement mixture, carry the loads, plaster a surface and so like. For the payment, we were supposed to contact our thekedar and he would be the same person to deal relevantly with the customers.

Our thekedar Mr. Bhalla Sen, a miser man who would not leave a penny on any kind. He was the man who made decisions and set agreements with the customers, take on construction projects and employ Raj (head construction worker who directs and oversees the work of other labourers) and Majdoors like us (daily wage construction labourers). Apart from deciding our regular paltry, he would also decide the amount of time we would be given to eat/drink and even our peeing frequency.

However, for the demands, he was a cunning and greedy man while for the inputs he was the laziest and a typical miser. Despite the strict rules that we were bound to follow and the meager pay that we would be handed over, he held our paychecks for long and would process them with delay.

You might be wondering why we even worked for such an insane person. The answer is simple. Our miserable lives and our need to survive in this world has caused us to endure such conditions and people. After all, What would we have done? There seemed no option for us to thrive and there was none to provide us with work when we needed it. He employed us though with the thin wage but he paid us that we were able to feed our families with something. At the time we arrived in town from our native village to earn something, it seemed to be the only means to support our dying families. He came forward as an angel who later uncovered himself as a devil stumbling up our lives.

It's been a year for me being exposed to his niggard and cruel acts with which he had treated us. There was no other choice for me than to choose another Bhalla Sen from the other group, who were may be even more dangerous and mingy than him.

Bhalla Sen may have been a greedy man but he was good at influencing customers and got us the work somehow. His tricky and playful ways to manipulate the customers and to obtain the favorable payment in response was commendable and by far the best. As far as work was involved, he was the person of words, people relied on his words that were enough to get the work started/terminated. He was also one of the popular thekedars known in the construction and township community and also had political and underground links.

Every day was like a challenge. I was hanging along with my troop when the clock struck 9 in the morning, we still had not received any customers yet. Bhallasen seemed impatient and stressed out. He walked to and fro the block near the square. Just then my friend Bilawl leaned in and whispered, "Seems like you have a bad day ahead but let's hope for the best!".

"Hmm, how about you buddy?", I enquired Bilawl who appeared to be in dilemma but responded saying that they were informed that Rasoilal had already cracked a deal last night with a customer and they are waiting for the van to arrive, pick them up and drop them at the site. Bilawl belonged to the other group. His thekedar Rasoilal was one of the rudest people known in the community known for his blatant and disregarding behaviour towards anyone who messed with him.

I was astonished about how people like Rasoilal cracked their deals fortnight and were growing construction contracts better than Bhallasen.  It was 10 am, the sun shone brightly. The clock had been ticking too fast, but there were no signs of any deal that Bhallasen seemed to strike. I began to worry because there was no other go. I had to return empty-handed. I glanced at Bhallasen who was practically running, shouting, and announcing to hire construction labors. He looked too exhausted and anxious to be approached, so none dared to go near him.

Some of my co-workers including Manohar got up and imitated the same act of calling out customers to hire us for work. The men from the group also shouted and even stopped passerby's to ask them if they required construction labourers. Bhallasen gave them an assertive nod and continued, maybe that was how we could have backed him and us up in the situation.

For other groups like us, a situation like this was just another usual day, when they had to return empty-handed to their homes and even sleep bare stomach. For some, crises like this would even go long when they would have no food left for many nights. Many times, days also arrived when they would merely earn the amount that would not be enough to feed a meal for one stomach.

It was noon when the summer sun shone bright and right directly above the head. We neither had any customer, nor any person who even negotiated for a lesser price with Bhallasen, who approached us and stood in front of twenty-five men including me. All of us noticed his deplorably heavy face that conveyed us the message that we had to return without the green leaf. He called us off and we were back on foot towards our pavilion.

Bhallasen would normally cut open the big fat projects but the subtle crisis like this roped in Bhallasen, Rasoilal, and many other thekedars as well and made them endangered to these usually unusual days that they would have to face upon the lack of customers or appropriate construction deals.

With a heavy heart, I came back to my wretched Jhuggi with my profusely sweating body that wet my shirt to the extent that it nearly became translucent outlining my lean back and bones. Hoping that the next day may bring the bread, I caught myself off the puny river of sorrow and lied down on the khaat thinking about how to avoid such situations and ways to escape such happenstances.

I was depressed to come back with no penny-handy on days like that because my family is entirely dependent on what I earn, My wife Camla, who would go door to door, washing utensils, sweeping, and mopping in the houses of people would barely earn 3000rs a month. Days like that were the usual cup of tea for us that would burn my blood and heart.

It seemed near impossible for us to survive and support ourselves on this exorbitant planet. Amid such uncertainties, I still had ambitions to make our daughter educated. She was currently in fourth grade. Her school fees and other necessary expenses seemed hard for us to normalize but my will still had the fire to keep the candle on. Waiting for Camla and my little munchkin, I closed my eyes for a nap with the thought which led me thinking about the additional ways to procure money and how?

How do you think Sudhir will procure money? Let me know in the comments. 

**Stay safe and connected! hope you have a great day ahead.

-Anshika Saxena