Delhiwale: Citizen Kanhaiya

On life, losses, and a failed dream

He is from Bhagwan Ram’s birthplace, but is named after Bhagwan Krishna.

An Ayodhya native, the middle-aged gentleman is sitting by a shaded roadside in south Delhi’s posh Anand Niketan. (HT)

Kanhaiya shrugs. “My name was given to me by my mata-pita.” An Ayodhya native, the middle-aged gentleman is sitting by a shaded roadside in south Delhi’s posh Anand Niketan, a few steps away from the embassy of a much-in-the-news country. He is perched on a gas pipeline marker. Afternoon sunshine is piercing through the tree leaves and falling directly on the road. A labourer and plumber, Kanhaiya has just finished an assignment — a water pipe was leaking — and now, “I’m resting for a while.” After some minutes, he plans to head to another assignment a few kilometres further south in Vasant Vihar. He will cover the distance on foot — he always walks. “I will not spend my money on buying a bicycle.” Sure, he could use public buses or the Metro, but, “If I get used to bus rides, half of my earnings would be wasted in getting the tickets.” Best is to walk, it saves money, he feels. After all, “some days I earn as much as ₹500, and some days nothing at all.”

Bending his head, Kanhaiya confesses he feels the absence of his parents. “I felt completely alone after they were gone, especially on realising that I single-handedly would have to look after my wife and four children, without the support and blessings of my mata-pita.” That stress took its toll, he implies. “I became too old too soon.” His body has become frailer during the past years. He lifts his arms. “My limbs start to pain easily, my body no longer has its earlier strength.” He clasps his palms.

Although he has been in Delhi for 30 years, Kanhaiya’s family has never been to the city. “They have not seen my room in the pahari (sic)…. they don’t need to, no need to spend money in travelling to Dilli.” Being a freelancer, he visits them “whenever I want to,” which tends to be once in two months.

Kanhaiya’s dream, when he arrived in Delhi about 18-20 years ago, was “to work in a company and get a salary every month.” He never experienced that “sukh,” he says.

He continues sitting, watching the cars go by (see photo).