Delhiwale: The world under a tree

How a migrant stitched his space in this city

The pavement is free of litter. The leafy verdure of the pilkhan (white fig) tree above is keeping the shaded space cool. Ensconced somewhere in the foliage, a bird is chirping intermittently. A dog is lying asleep on the pavement, lips half-smiling.

The centrepiece of this setting is shoe repairer Bansi, perched behind his modest stall, in Gurugram’s Sector 19, near Krishna Chowk. (Mayank Austen Soofi)

The centrepiece of this setting is shoe repairer Bansi, perched behind his modest stall, in Gurugram’s Sector 19, near Krishna Chowk.

This miniature world is exuding vibes of intense serenity, at least this afternoon. Yet, this calmness is transitory. The summer’s unforgiving sun might penetrate through the green leaves. The tweeting bird might fall silent. Somebody might throw an empty biscuit packet from the car window. The dog might get up and start barking. In any case, Bansi will pack up his things by the day’s end and return home to the nearby Harijan Colony, leaving the place deserted for the night.

“It took me a lot of hard work and some good luck to establish myself on this spot,” says Bansi. A mild-mannered man of 54 years, he speaks in a low but firm voice, and smiles faintly as he speaks. He has been running the stall for a decade.

“I fell on the railway tracks and injured my leg ...got admitted to a hospital in Jabalpur for one-and-a-half months. I have a rod operated inside the (injured) leg,” he says.

Bansi’s life ahead had to find a new normal. He could no longer do the mistri’s job. He left for Delhi. “I’m a man who does not rashly take up plans. I deliberate before arriving at a decision.”

So, Bansi went about the national capital’s streets for weeks, watching people and their professions, “and asking myself what I can do and what I cannot.” His gaze narrowed down to a shoe repairer in Chhattarpur. “I approached him, worked long enough for him to learn shoe repairing.” And eventually, he established his own business under this pilkhan tree in Millennium City.

“My life was full of challenges…but that must be true for everyone,” he says. “I carried on.” Pointing to the sacred teeka on his forehead, he expresses gratitude to the blessings of gods, as well as to the temple “that lies within my heart”.

Meanwhile, the dog is gone.