Delhiwale: Chai of hard labour

A tea stall serving labourers, by a former labourer who belongs to Bihar

Will it rain today? That’s the lazy chatter going on. Anybody can come here to have chai, but the tea shop is for labourers, asserts the tea stall owner. This afternoon the unnamed stall is teeming with half a dozen men. Each one of them is holding a plastic glass of chai.

The tea things are arranged on the shuttered grills of a building’s characterless back-wall, while the customers sit atop a mound of cement sacks that have solidified into a rock-like hard surface. (Mayank Austen Soofi)

“All my customers are mazdoor (labourers),” repeats Muhammed Sabir. The lane that runs parallel to Asaf Ali Road, in Old Delhi, is a smorgasbord of small shops, eateries, and houses, and home to many groups of labourers living on the footpath or in tiny warehouses filled with construction material. Most of these labourers cook their own meals, but often have chai breaks in the area’s tea stalls. This shack is always teeming with folks.

The tea things are arranged on the shuttered grills of a building’s characterless back-wall, while the customers sit atop a mound of cement sacks that have solidified into a rock-like hard surface—presumably— over the course of several seasons. “I only make chai, but there are ready-made things to eat,” says Mr Sabir, pointing to glass jars filled with fens and rusks. At the moment, all the customers happen to be Bihar natives. Rahman is from Madhubani, while Bacchu Singh, Salim Akhtar, Muhammed Khwaja Alam and Asit Yadav are from Purnia. The talk veers towards the forthcoming marriage of shy Rahman, who becomes so conscious that he turns his gaze towards his chappals. Some naughty jokes follow at his expense.

The tea seller, too, was a labourer. He arrived in Delhi from Madhubani, in Bihar, more than 30 years ago, and “I opened this stall some 10 years ago with the ₹10,000 I had managed to save.” Labourer Bacchu Singh interjects, saying, “I feel apnapan (personal) in this shop. You always see your own folks here. And the chai gives asli taazgi (real energy), it’s a labour (sic) chai.” The rest make similar murmurs. This brotherly consensus becomes a reason for another round of chai; a metal tray is passed around from hand to hand. The shop opens daily from 5am to 8pm. A single serving of chai costs ₹5.