Guest Post: Profile of a Rag Picker

This is a guest post by Rachel Leven, a Fulbright scholar based out of New Delhi. She is currently researching 'Decentralized Waste Management' and as part of the research, travels around Delhi meeting people, NGOs, professors, and companies working in the sector. For more info check out her blog, www.wastelines.com.

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As Shalabh touched on in his last post, Delhi is a place where contradictions are piled on contradictions. The ruins which dot the city are the dull carcasses of a gold glittered age. Once home to emperors, in Delhi they are often just another geographic marker in a slum. I’ll leave it to the reader to imagine whether this is a travesty or the romantic march of time. In any case walking in this city it’s good to remain open to anything the might come up. After visiting the unusually clean and ordered Begumpur Mosque we ran into a living relic overseeing her humble empire of trash just a few blocks away. Since my expertise is waste management we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share a bag of peanuts, served in a recycled magazine page, with Maya and her band of sweepers.

Maya by her Trash

At first glance the street is a dump. Goats dressed in old sweaters and chickens wander between the bins and garbage bags on either side of the road, a dusty side street leading to a simple crematorium. At 2:59 pm the site makes a comedy of Delhi Waste Management’s sign claiming, ‘Zero garbage zone 13 to 15 hrs.’ However on closer inspection Maya runs an ordered and cleanly operation. Segregated bags of waste are piled high and covered with a plastic sheet, waiting for the broker’s next visit. Although the day’s un-segregated waste is picked over by the goats, the garbage they dislodge is sure to be picked up soon. Maya sits close to the ground on a short stool. Surrounding her are five lounging men; aside from her husband, they are all sweepers hired by Delhi Waste Management, a city contracted company, to sweep the neighborhood streets and deliver their bags to the dustbins at this location.

Goats and Chicken feeding on day's trash

About 65 years old, Maya has been watching over this street for 25 years.  She hails from a rural village just a few hours away from New Delhi, in Uttar Pradesh. After marrying she moved to this slum community of Begampur Harijan Basti in Delhi. Before claiming her corner Maya jumped around the city, working mostly with garbage. She eventually struck a deal with the neighborhood surrounding Begampur. In return for keeping the road to the crematorium clean, she would be allowed to use the space to collect and segregate the area’s waste.

Mam Chand (L) with a sweeper (R)

This was no easy job. Maya says that back then the road was a favored spot for street shitting. “The crap was up to here,” says Maya’s husband Mam Chand, waving his hand by his knee. To break the neighborhood of its bad habits Maya took to sleeping on the crematorium road. When residents snuck out to take care of their business in the cover of the night, she chased them down. She remembers, “I carried a big stick with me and would chase them and then ask them to pick up their mess themselves.”  Although she still sleeps in her makeshift home on the road, after more than two decades of guardianship the street is clear and no one is breaking the rules. However, just off the temple’s main drag and outside Maya’s jurisdiction, we found enough fresh material to convince us that her rule is far from obsolete.

Garbage waiting to be segragated

In exchange for her commitment to keeping the road clean Maya is spared hassling by police and no one is allowed to cannibalize her business. Her presence on the block is so strong that when the municipality built cement dust bins to collect the neighborhood’s trash, they built them next to her operation. When the municipality and then the contracted private firm set up their operations they employed the expert, Maya, to ensure that the area around the dustbins remained clean.  This turns out to be a big task as Mam Chand pointed out to us. Although he had cleaned the bins at the other end of the road that morning, there was already a solid mass of garbage collecting around the half empty metal containers. He says the neighbors used to be better about their trash, but with the coming of plastic bags and other disposable packaging people stopped caring about the value of what they dropped, and where they dropped it.

Maya and her husband live a life with one foot in the formal sector, but with little security. According to Maya, Delhi Waste Management currently pays herself and her husband a total wage of 1000 rupees a month. In addition, they make 2000 to 2500 rupees/ month selling plastic bottles and any other valuable waste they can segregate to a broker from the company. The going rate for an unbroken glass bottle is 1 rupee but they don’t often find such valuable material. Their money is made in thin plastic and plastic bottles, 3 rupees/kg and 50 paise respectively. There is also a little money to be made selling the meat of their goats. And there are the chickens, Maya pulled back the door of what I thought was a stack of card board to reveal a comfortably roosting hen.

Although the prices of materials ebb and flow with the market, Maya says that wages have remained about the same for the last 10 years, and in fact were lowered from 1200 when the city contracted out. Maya and her band of sweepers suspect that much more money has been allocated to them but that it is lost in “brokering,” as she diplomatically referred to Delhi’s corruption. All in all it doesn’t add up to much. Mam Chand says, “we make a total of 3 thousand a month, its barely enough to keep two people going on food, milk costs 22rps a liter so that tells you how well off we are.” Although goat’s milk might help Mam Chand save some rupees, there are also medical expenses to consider, like Maya’s appendix operation which cost them 75000 rps. And there is their one child, a widow supporting three children of her own. Their daughter lives in another section of the city but often returns looking for help. “You have to support your kids,” says Maya with a heavy shrug.

Maya sleeps outside to protect the street and her garbage.

Maya and her men are just a small piece of the many layered and complicated system of waste in India. Getting paid a wage brings them closer to a stable way of life, but it’s hardly enough to get by. Any changes to the system, such as the collection of unsegregated waste for waste-to-energy programs, or even a change in habits like better segregation and consumption habits on the part of residents poses a threat to their stability.

Despite this Maya looks over her road with proud resolution. It is her space. One of the young sweepers joked that she was Panchali , meaning a wife to all of them.  Maya was quick to respond, “I live alone here in the night. You come here and I’ll tell you whose wife I am. I have a dagger and I’ll drive it through you.”
With her wit and command it’s not difficult to imagine Maya in another setting, manipulating her self-built corporation from behind an oak desk and far from the grandmother that squatted on the wicker stool before us. But even without the trappings of an empire, she is still the boss and her life will pass on that corner, amongst the trash that is her legacy.

The Grand and Forgotten: Begumpur Mosque

Location - Begumpur Mosque (click here for the map location)

Co-ordinates - N28 32.350 E77 12.367

Closest Metro Station - Hauz Khas (Yellow Line)

Landmark - Close to Bijaymandal in Begumpur Village

I first saw it from Bijaymandal. From the top of the Octagonal structure atop Bijaymandal, I could see a series of domes arranged along the sides of a square. It was hazy around but that could not hide the size of the place. I was both intrigued and amazed. Immediately, I got down from my vantage point, got to the road and started walking in the direction of the building. A few hundred metres south, the mosque stood on the side of a narrow residential street. There was the quintessential blue ASI board with white text, somewhat rusting. A flight of wide steps led into the mosque. An imposing gate, partly blackened by the weather loomed above the steps. A partly ajar gate made of iron bars led inside. Before I had even walked up the steps, I was sure no one came here. It just had that eerie look which buildings unoccupied for years tend to accumulate.

The entry gate from the West. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

Walking up the steps, I could partly see the huge courtyard and the plastered wall of the main dome of the mosque. As if to accentuate the feeling of loneliness, a solo man was walking in. Beyond was a huge courtyard, vast empty space and no one else.

From the iron bar gate. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

Whatever I had seen from the gate had still not prepared me for the inside. The moment I walked past the gate, the true size of the courtyard hit me. It is huge. I later learnt it is 75 metres X 75 metres. While I am sure there are bigger mosques around (Jama Masjid is sure one of them), I am also sure there is no larger mosque which lies abandoned. The emptiness inside adds to the aura of the place. The one thing conspicuous by its absence is a water tank where people would have washed their hands and feet before getting into the mosque. There is a small structure in one corner which could have served the purpose but it is hard to imagine why the architect of this mosque who had such grand taste in size would make only a 10 feet X 4 feet ditch for that.

The West and North sides with the 'ditch' in the foreground.

The first thing I did inside was to walk all around the courtyard and feel its size. Later, when I walked in along the galleries formed by the domes, the arches under each dome seemed to enhance the dimensions and the depth.

Arches on the South side.

The plain-ness and the absence of intricate carvings did indicate this to be Tughlaq period structure, a fact that was later confirmed as I searched about it on the internet. The distinctive feature of the structure, and I say this for the nth time in this post, is the size. Apart from that, if I am not mistaken, it is also the number, arrangement and placement of domes all around the mosque. Most mosques in Delhi have domes over and on the sides of the mihrab, right above the arches in the main building. In the bigger mosques, the domes number about 5. Here, they would amount to over 50 (56 small ones), not counting the 3 larger ones over each of the entry gates and the largest over the Mihrab. There are 2 theories about the origin of the structure. Said to be definitely from the city of Jahanpanah and built around the same time as the Bijaymandal Palace, it is variously attributed to Khan-i-Jahan Maqbul Tilangani, Prime Minister of Feroz Shah Tughlaq and to Tughlaq himself. The fact that the mosque does not find a mention in Ibn Batuta's otherwise extensive descriptions leads most people to credit it to the Tughlaq ruler himself. That would put the mosque's contruction to somewhere between 1341 (which was when Batuta left Delhi) and 1351 (the year Tughlaq died).

The domes on the West and South. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

7 domes form half of each side. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

Given how old and unused the structure is, it is a wonder that almost all of it is still intact. Except the Eastern half of the West wall, where almost all the domes have collapsed, all the domes are intact. In a way, the collapsed domes are a bonus because thats about the only thing which lends some credence to the age of the mosque. Beyond the collapsed domes is a hall which does not seem to have any entry from the main structure. I climbed over a 5 feet high window into it. Once inside it, I still could not find any entry to it. To date, more than a week after I first visited Begumpur mosque, I am in the dark about it.

Collapsed domes and domes of the unexplained hall.

From all the 3 gates and from next to the main west wall which houses the Mihrab, it is possible to climb up to 2 levels. The mihrab in itself is not too impressive, just a plain wall with an arch facing west and does not boast of any carvings at all. The main structure outside is also a plain faced plastered wall. A very narrow flight of stairs leads up, first to the roof which has the small domes and further upto the main large dome of the mosque. A small platform at one end is the highest vantage point from the mosque.

The plain mihrab on the west wall.

The east wall from atop the main dome.

At one time, long long ago, the mosque perhaps had a connection with Bijaymandal. It would have seen hundreds of devotees everyday kneel in prayer to the call of 'Allah-u-Akbar'. It may also have been a center of commerce with artisans displaying and selling their wares to their patrons. The Sultan himself, his wives and the who's who of his court would have come and paid obesiance here. Today, it lies abandoned. Time has taken away the audience but the size remains for everyone to be seen.

I was so enamoured by the place that when a couple of days later, a few friends wanted to come see this place (after hearing from me), I gladly gave them company. Despite having heard of its size, they were surprised. In the middle of the congested villaged of Begumpur, in the heart of Delhi, where space is at a premium, there is historical real estate lying vacant, unattended and grand. As we walked out of the mosque on my second visit towards Begumpur Village, we were wondering about why Bijaymandal, a few hundred metres away is so littered and shitted on while the mosque is not. While the mosque is not used for prayer, perhaps its erstwhile status discourages people from littering in. Just a score of metres away however, the story is different. Below is what we saw. Present Delhi is as much about trash, filth and smelliness as it is about historical structures and legends. More on this in one of the future posts.

A man walks past some trash as another cleans.

Bijaymandal: The Hall of a Thousand Columns

Location - Sarvapriya Vihar/Begumpur (click here for the map location)

Co-ordinates - N28 32.438 E77 12.366

Closest Metro Station - Hauz Khas (Yellow Line)

Landmark - Opposite Sarvapriya Club, Sarvapriya Vihar

If you look at the right nav of this page and scroll down to 'about me', you will see the point about discovering yourself when you travel. Of all things that I have discovered about myself in the last 18 months, the one that stands out is the romantic and adventurer in me. I always thought I was one or maybe I always wanted to be one. Now I know, I am one and I enjoy being it. Its this romantic in me which is jumping guns to post this first. I have 5-6 other posts pending but none as romantic as Bijaymandal.

Ibn Batuta came to India in 1433 and stayed around till 1441. The Tughlaqs were ruling with an iron hand. As he gained favour with the Sultan and was let into the most private of the chambers, observing the idiosyncracies of the rulers, he saw a lot. In his book of travels, he describes what he calls 'The Hall of Thousand Columns', Hazar Sutan. Needless to say, it was grand, it was gigantic and it witnessed exceutions. The expression 'Hall of Thousand Columns' has also been used for a hall built by Alauddin Khilji, the one of Siri Fort fame. Whether Tughlaq built his version on the earlier one or not, no one knows. No one even clearly knows if this site, Bijaymandal is the place where the hall stood. It is all conjecture. That is where the story begins.

Remains of 'The Hall' and the octagonal structure

As you get down at the non-descript location called Sarvapriya club, a rusting iron gate stares at you. Inside the gate is dense shrubbery. To your right are some remains of the wall. 'Wait!!, have I walked into where I wanted to? Could this be the hall of thousand columns described so elaborately by Batuta?', is what you find asking yourself as your senses get used to what lies ahead, the sight and stench of human excreta amongst them. In the middle of the forgotten village of Begumpur, close to nowhere is a patch of land, raised above its surroundings which once was the site of The Hall of Thousand Columns. What survives today is a section of a wall close to the entry gate, an unexplained dome like structure, ruins of a hall (or maybe The Hall), an octagonal observation post on the top and many legends.

Built by Mohammad bin Tughlaq sometime in the second decade of the 15th century, Bijay Mandal lay at the center of the 4th city of Delhi, Jahanpanah. It was from here that the Tughlaq sultan would have conducted the affairs of the kingdom, received travellers (like Batuta), meted out justice (or injustice) to the various petitioners, executed criminals and traitors and issued royal decrees.

The first section surviving to the North is that of a wall, which presumably formed the boundary of the entire complex and had a gate. The surviving structure does show remnants of what could have been barracks for guards on duty. In all, 5 arches survive on the South side of the wall and 3 on the North. Just South of this structure is a Sufi's grave along with a few other graves draped in cloth various shades of green. On the west of this is a short mosque mihrab. The sufi's grave and the mihrab are clearly recent additions and are used as a place of worship.

The wall section from the South

5 arches of the wall as seen from the North

Inside the wall arches

South of the wall is lots and lots of shrubbery, as high as 6 feet high in places. Various earthen paths zigzag away. Most of them, winding in various ways do lead to the main structure, considered to be the remains of The Hall of Thousand Columns. Before you get to the hall however, the path heads west and reaches a large dome structure with 2 arched entries on all sides except the East. According to sources, this structure was added after the original hall was built but its purpose is not clear. However, based on the underground passages (no longer accessible) excavated by the ASI, it is thought this structure was an annex to another set of buildings.

The large Dome with 2 arched entries.

Light streams into the dome like structure. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

Inside corner of the dome.

Just South of the dome is the main structure. The walls of the dome almost touch it. As you stand at the base of the dome and look up the wall, you are effectively looking at what a subject of Tughlaq would have seen before being ushered into the presence of the Sultan. The wall is high and vertical. Given Tughlaq's propensity in meting out harsh punishments to the erring, one can easily conceive a few hundred errants having been hurled down the wall into oblivion. True to the image, the staircase that leads up is narrow and winding and gives an impression of carrying you somewhere unpleasant. As you get to the top of the first flight, there is a large open courtyard. To the left are the remains of the main chamber of the palace, possibly the Sultan's living quarters, possibly a large public hall, possibly 'The Hall'. Of the Thousand columns that once constituted it (though that claim could be easily questioned), less than a score remain. On the South side of The Hall are 2 circular openings, which perhaps served as entrances to the vaults or the treasury.

The Hall from the South (5+1 doors can be seen).

Whatever remains of the 1000 columns!!

From outside the hall, in the courtyard, another narrow staircase leads up to the terrace. The moment you reach the terrace, you realize the significance of the site. There is a clear view of Delhi all around. In those days, when his subjects lived in hovels and hamlets not rising above 2-3 metres and the air was clear, the Sultan would have been able to see clearly for a distance in all directions. Even today, with modern construction and bad visibility, one can see a lot in all directions. Its also from on the way to the terrace that one gets an idea of the magnitude of the structure. From midway up the staircase, the dome like structure which seems huge from the ground is already below you.

Remains of the terrace with the octagonal structure

The dome from the terrace. Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven

The terrace is not the end. Perched atop the terrace on its West corner, is a small octagonal structure which can be climbed by narrow staircases on 4 sides. On the inside, the structure has the shape of a plus sign. The staircases leading up are from the outside walls and if one is enterprising enough, it is possible to go around the octagon, even though it involves walking on a ledge for sometime. The octagon was almost certainly an observation post, as much for the Sultan as for his chiefs of army. There is no place with as commanding a view as this in South Delhi except perhaps the Qutub Minar. One can well imagine the Sultan relaxing and basking in the sun on the terrace and making an occasional foray onto the top of the octagon to keep an eye on his kingdom. Not that it would be needed, its just that the feeling of being on top of things (literally and figuratively) was perhaps too heady to be not indulged in regularly.

Looking East from the Octagonal observation post.

Not much remains of what must surely have been a grand palace once. Time has done what only it can do. The ruins do however lend it a romantic appeal. If there is a place to let your imagination loose and imagine what a grand palace must have looked like, if there is a place to stand on and imagine yourself the ruler of Delhi, this place is it.

I had gone there just to see Bijay Mandal. However, once at the top of the octagonal post observing the world around and feeling slightly like the Tughlaq, towards the South, I saw a structure which to say the least intrigued me. Strain your eyes and look at the below picture (click and blow it up if need be). You will see a series of domes and 4 larger domes at the middle to farther end. 'What in the name of god is that!!' I asked myself. More about that later.

The mysterious domes! Photo Courtesy: Rachel Leven