HOMELESS, BUT NOT HOPELESS IN DELHI
Have you ever spent a night on the footpath? When the dark makes way for more darkness and a sense of eeriness looms, that’s when the stories of the homeless in the city come alive
The streets are unforgiving and don’t differentiate between man and woman, child and adult, desperate and driven. But when you have nothing but the litter-laden, noise-polluted hard concrete to call home, you develop a strength stronger than fear, an instinct more feral than survival. For about 2 lakh people in DelhiNCR, the streets are all they can call their own.
Who are these people? How did they land on the streets? What’s their story? Questions like these often haunt me, so one October night, I set out to get answers.
Soon after I parked myself at the footpath outside Shahidi Park on Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg, here’s what I learnt — in the words of a homeless person sitting next to me: “Footpath bahut kism ki hoti hai. Jahaan hum hain aaj, yeh five-star footpath hai (There are many kinds of footpaths. This one where we are gathered tonight, is a five-star footpath).”
My quest was fuelled by an NGO that was urging people to leave the comfort of their homes and spend a night on the footpath. Members and volunteers of MARHAM, run by Irtiza Quraishi, had gathered there as part of their efforts towards the rehabilitation of the city’s homeless, most of whom are migrants — people who leave home in search of better prospects. I, too, found a spot in the circle formed by the motley group of volunteers, homeless and participants.
“The homeless are seen as a liability, but we see them as assets who can be trained. We help channel their energy so that they become selfsufficient,” said Irtiza, addressing the group. My journalistic inquisitiveness is piqued. Irtiza’s cousin Saman Quraishi shares, “We help them get their Aadhaar Cards and ID proofs, and also with skill training.” Some get jobs as delivery people, plumbers and electricians.
As the night progresses, we are joined by more homeless faces, but only men and boys. I ask Saman what happens to homeless women? “They are sceptical of joining us,” she says. And I’m left wondering how difficult survival can be for these women in a city like Delhi, and can’t help but feel guilty at my privileges.
The night is swampy, the only shift in breeze caused by moving traffic. There are bugs, plus the groan of vehicle engines and screeching horns. This, plus the desperation of life, is enough to make even the most determined lose their wits. No wonder then that most resort to substance abuse.
Soon, it’s the turn of the homeless to share their stories. “Dilli sheher mein apna sapna poora karenge, yehi soch ke aate hain hum (Our quest to realise our dreams in Delhi got us here),” says one man. Their stories might be heartwrenching, but the spirit is indomitable; they joke in between sharing their stories.
At around 1.30am, two new volunteers enter the group, passing around rusk and tea. The warmth of the chai was comforting like never before.
Dilli sheher mein apna sapna poora karenge, yehi soch ke aate hain hum (Our quest to realise our dreams in Delhi got us here) A HOMELESS MAN