NEW DELHI: The LPG shortage in the national capital is changing the character of some of its busiest areas. Imagine stepping out of the crowded platforms of New Delhi Railway Station from the Paharganj side after a long train journey and finding the usually bustling food lanes unusually quiet. The familiar aroma of hot rotis, spicy sabzi and fried snacks that typically welcomes thousands of passengers every day has gone missing.
Now, rows of half-open or shuttered stalls signal a story coming straight out of the West Asia crisis, as the LPG cylinder shortage has brought small eateries to a standstill. On most days, the narrow lanes outside the station serve as a lifeline to travellers, daily-wage labourers, auto and bus drivers and workers, who seek affordable meals throughout the day and night. A tawa-roti with sabzi for Rs 20 a plate, chole-kulche for Rs 25 or a modest thali of dal, four rotis and sabzi for Rs 50 keeps stomachs full without hurting pockets.
But on Friday and Saturday evening, many of these meals disappeared from the menu. Stall owners said they had exhausted their stock of LPG cylinders and were forced to shut shop early. “Today was the last day of the cylinder,” said a vendor on Saturday, who usually serves dozens of plates of roti-sabzi during the afternoon rush. With no replacement cylinder arriving, his stall remained closed. At the back side of the front lane, however, a small flame burned, just enough to cook food for the staff of seven members.
At another shop, the owner had rushed to his house to bring a cylinder so that at least his workers could eat. Vijay Sood, owner at the Vaishno Bhandar, said, “We cannot cook for customers anymore. We somehow served lunch today. I had to serve the staff also, which is why I had to bring the cylinder from home.”
Arvind, who runs a keema- paratha stall in the back lanes, said, “For many of the small vendors like me, the LPG crisis is a disruption to our daily survival. And for thousands who rely on these stalls for cheap food, the empty stoves have left these streets unusually silent.” A few coal-fired tandoors , however, could be seen simmering, baking occasional rotis, but the overall scene had become subdued.
Have never seen empty eateries like this even at odd hours: Shop owner
The LPG shortage is making food vendors prepare for a long haul, even as their daily survival has come under strain. Many of them operating near the New Delhi Railway station said that they had already made alternative plans, even if they were not equally lucrative. A tikki seller said he would have to switch to selling golgappas if the gas shortage continued, since golgappas require no cooking at their end and there were many takers for them.
Raju, a 28-year-old vendor of aalu-tikki chaat who has been selling in the area for the past six to seven years, said, “I used to be the last one to leave the premises. I would stay back till 11:30 pm daily. Now, I have material left for another 10 to 15 tikkis, but I may run out of the gas supply any time.” He added that he sought help for cylinder refills from friends, but nothing materialised.
The usually chaotic lanes outside the Paharganj entrance, often packed with hungry passengers and loud vendors at any point of time, have become unusually dull. Shutters are down, and travellers can be seen wandering from one stall to another, hoping to find a place still serving meals, while some fight over not getting a hot tawa roti along with paneer bhurji as was demanded.
Another eatery by the name of Malabar Paratha near a south Indian restaurant was left with no cylinders to fry fish or make parathas. Its owner Veenu said, “I have been sitting free of work since the morning, waiting for some help to arrive to take me out of this critical situation. I have never seen an empty restaurant like this even at odd hours.
I have boiled some rice and there is some curry left over to serve.” Likewise, several chole-kulche and roti-sabzi stall owners said on Saturday that they were packing up for the day and heading home after they ran out of the remaining cylinders.
Kitchens shut, agony all over
Shopkeepers sat idle on plastic chairs, watching passersby search for food stalls. Frustration was evident on their faces as potential customers walked away after finding the kitchens shut, making the overall scene completely subdued.