With LPG lifeline on the brink, street vendors’ livelihoods hang in balance

Bhopal: As sale of commercial LPG gas cylinders is suspended across the state, the stalls and food vendors you frequent on a daily basis are facing a harsh and sudden crisis due to the restriction.

Shyamu, a tea stall owner supporting a family of eight, is grappling with unexpected hardship amid the escalating Iran-US war. Government restrictions on commercial LPG cylinder supplies—imposed due to global supply chain disruptions from the conflict—have left him unable to restock, threatening his livelihood.


Many small-scale street vendors—from roadside tea stalls to vibrant food carts—face a crisis echoing the COVID-19 lockdowns as a statewide suspension of commercial LPG cylinder supplies disrupts their livelihoods.

The restriction, imposed by Madhya Pradesh authorities over safety fears linked to the escalating Iran-US conflict, has severed a critical lifeline for thousands of daily wage earners dependent on gas for cooking and heating. "If my tea stall closes, how will I run my family," asks Shyamu, who runs a tea stall in the Indrapuri area.

Global supply chains buckled after Iran's retaliatory strikes on US assets last week, forcing Indian regulators to prioritize household and industrial needs over non-essential commercial use. In Bhopal's teeming markets, the fallout is stark.

Premium Sahay, a 45-year-old chaiwala with over a decade at his pitch outside Rang Mahal Talkies, described the desperation. "Today, a gas agency told me they have no gas cylinders. My shop shuts down in such a situation. No quick boils means no customers. Burning scrap wood brings smoke—people chase it away, and costs skyrocket."

Vendors report chaotic scenes at depots, with stocks rationed amid shortage fears. Officials defend the move as precautionary, but traders decry it as blind to their fragile existence. "We faced empty streets in COVID; now it's empty cylinders," said Vishwa, a chaat seller in the BHEL area. "Families go hungry without our affordable meals." The ban highlights vulnerabilities in India's vast informal economy, where street food sustains millions.

Improvised wood fires now choke the air with smoke, driving away patrons and inflating expenses. Poha vendor Raju summed up the frustration: "This war half a world away is killing our businesses here." Vendor groups have appealed to district authorities for exemptions, alternative fuel subsidies, or relief packages. Threats of protests loom outside collectorates if demands go unmet.