I studied about the builders of modern India in history books at school. The names I still remember are many. Raja Ram Mohan Roy. Sardar Patel. Jawaharlal Nehru. J R D Tata. And not one mentioned the migrant labourer.
To me, the migrant labourer is the builder of not just modern India, but modern Singapore, modern Dubai and every modern country that prides itself on the glamour list of modernity.
In real and physical terms, there is no one to replace the hordes of migrant labourers who have sweated it out, putting together every edifice of everything from the Taj Mahal to the Trump Towers in place. Every office space we use, every home we now stay confined to, every club and every discotheque we have danced in, has been built by a migrant labourer.
The migrant worker is therefore a gig worker. I am sure they will baulk if they ever heard this snazzy but alien phrase to refer to them. But they will never ever hear it, or read this article for that matter, as they are distanced from it all. They are a part of society that is there and yet not there. In many ways they are a part of “Invisible India”.
India can be cleaved into two. “Visible India”, that belongs to most of us, and “Invisible India”, a part that is unrecognised, un-feted and dusted under the carpets most of the time, belonging to a host of 126 million migrant workers who work silently.
These are the folk who build that modern skyscraper and see it emerge from the dust, hollow-concrete brick by brick, and these are the folk who will not be there when that snazzy inaugural function declares the building open. Firstly, they are not invited. Secondly and more importantly, they just don’t have the time. They build and scoot to yet another site where they will build yet another edifice for modern India. Yet another edifice that means a daily wage and a livelihood.
126 million is nearly the population of Japan. Migrant workers as many as the population of Japan are forever on the move in India to keep the big city rolling. In many ways this is back-end India that offers the much-needed daily support to front-end India to keep the wheels of the modern economy moving.
They come in many avatars. There is a hierarchy even. There is the Uber and Ola driver who has migrated from Begusarai to Bengaluru. There is the mason, the carpenter, the food delivery boy, the painter, the plumber and many, many others. Let’s call them gig workers for now, who leave their villages in search of income to live a decent day and repatriate what remains to their families.
I will not be wrong if I add yet another population of 20 million, nearly as large as the population of Sri Lanka, to the population of the migrant worker. These would be second-generation migrants who now have settled themselves into the ecosystem of the city, living in the shanties and the slums, forming part of the support system of driver, maid, beauty parlour worker, car cleaner and security guard alike.
These people live on the periphery of visible existence. Most have left their identities back in their villages and don’t have one in their destination cities. Their vote is not mobile, and therefore they are non-participants, by and large, in the democratic process of the vote. Many live remote single lives, staying in touch with their families once a week through the small top-up prepaid mobile connection that is their lifeline with their roots.
The migrant labourer of India has largely remained a faceless entity till now. In comes Covid-19, and the plight of the gig worker at the rock bottom of the pyramid of prosperity is in public showcase. I think it is time for us to recognise “Invisible India” as part of the exciting “Visible India” we wish to boast of today and in the future.
It is important for us to take cognisance of every point of need—social, economic, political and psychological—that the migrant worker deserves. It is important for us to understand that front-end India would not be what it is today without them. It is important to appreciate as well, that they deserve a more equitable share of the spoils.
In closing, I must jump into my dengue mosquito analogy. Modern and prosperous India is all about living in the best of locales in gated enclaves. And just outside these gated enclaves, or very close to them, live all those who serve the needs, wants, desires and aspirations of those who live within those hallowed gates.
The gated-enclave mindset is to keep their homes and gated-enclaves clean and tidy. And they do, with the help of the support system that lives outside.The Aedes aegypti, which had us all scared during the last dengue outbreak, breeds in cesspools and locales that do not follow good hygiene. Many breed in the slums and shanties around our gated enclaves.
The mosquito bites those around in the slums and shanties and flies in gracefully through the gates of the enclave and bites all of us who belong to Visible India. It spreads the pain of the disease equally and does not know the difference between the “Visible Indian” and the “Invisible Indian”.
The blood of both tastes just as nice, I guess. If we don’t want to get dengue, we must take care of more than what we see and what we care about.
Time then for “Visible India” to take care of “Invisible India”. Not with the benign purpose of being good people alone. Not with the purpose of being charitable alone. But with selfish reasons as well. Touche!
Harish Bijoor is a Brand Guru and Founder, Harish Bijoor Consults. Email address: harishbijoor@hotmail.com