GURUGRAM: “If anyone comes looking for documents here, we will go sit outside Modi’s house,” said Pushpa, on her way out of a makeshift room put together at a slum in
Silokhera
village.
Last month, Gurugram police had gone door to door in various slum clusters in the city scrutinising identity documents. “Police came knocking before
Republic
Day. Everyone spent the night in terror, children and women were crying. It was out of the blue,” said a woman whose basti was among those where police asked for documents. The reason cited was security. “The scrutiny was conducted for security reasons, keeping in mind the Republic Day,” said the commissioner of police. Senior officials also offered solace — those with valid papers have nothing to worry about. Then why do they?
‘Kaagaz nahin dikhayenge’ No documents, the government has said, are needed for the National Population Register (NPR). The government has also stated that it has not made any decision on a nationwide National Register of Citizens (NRC). However, the scrutiny of documents, in an atmosphere where many leaders of the ruling party have been talking up NRC across India, led to serious concern among these residents about harassment.
“Migrant workers live in anxiety and fear. While they do have documents like Aadhaar card and voter ID, the unpredictability of things has made them vulnerable,” Amir Abidi, who runs the Jai Hind Slum Coaching and Life Skills Project, told TOI.
In India, 38% children younger than five do not have a birth certificate. What chance, then, of their parents having one? Besides, these men and women, mostly from
West Bengal
and predominantly Muslim, make up a large part of the unorganised economy —as domestic helps, security guards, drivers, launderers, babysitters and general handymen. In the absence of affordable living, they have little choice but to stay in unauthorised colonies, which means no paperwork for their stay here. And there’s no kno wing when the authorities will turn up.
But the scrutiny of documents is only half the problem. The other is the suspicion the workers suddenly face, or fear they will. “The other day, I heard my employers talking about CAA (Citizenship Amendment Act) and how it’s good it will weed out the outsiders … We are poor but we embrace outsiders, share what little we have. They have everything they need, but are not happy,” said Kulsum, a 25-year-old who works as a cook at a Gurugram society.
Vanishing trail? With no clarity on whatcomes next, hundreds are heading home to get their papers in order. Just in case. “Sakina, one of my domestic helps, is on her third trip to her hometown in Bengal to put her documents together. It’s been over a month now and she has not returned,” said a senior consultant in Sector 57 in Gurugram. The apprehension, he added, he can understand. A couple of months ago, Sakina’s husband lost his job. “Perhaps because of his name. Maybe they are looking for a job closer home, where it’s safer.”
Some, like Kalu Sheikh, are also thinking of leaving. “We have voter cards and Aadhaar cards. But who had a birth certificate or marriage certificate in my time?” asked Sheikh, an auto driver from
Malda
in West Bengal who moved to Silokhera five years ago. Many neighbours have left Silokhera to put together their dossier of belonging.
But leaving may not be an option for everyone. “There are no opportunities in my village. What will I do if I go back? We are here to earn a living. We have to stay,” said Pushpa, who lives next door to Sheikh. A fellow migrant from Malda, Pushpa said every day is spent in fear. “Police have not come to our settlement yet … Our relatives in Malda have Aadhaar but no one has birth certificates. We sold our land back home, so we don’t have property papers either,” the mother of three added.
The divide Then there are those who think the culture of docu mentation is a step in the right direction. “Everyone in the country has documents. Only outsiders are spreading panic,” said Rajbeer Yadav, a driver and avid BJP supporter. “There is nothing wrong with the law.” He may have overestimated the ubiquity of documents. And underestimated the complexity of the process. “The poor do not own land. How will they have land records?” asked Shiraz ul-Sheikh, a daily wage labourer.
The fear and apprehension has, in many cases, given way to anger and resentment. Fuelled by the introduction of religion as a criterion of citizenship under the CAA for the most part. “If a Hindu does not have documents, it is okay. If it is a Muslim, there will be trouble,” said Mustari, a 27year-old tailor, adding, “Why do we have to prove our identity in our own country?”
Doubly oppressed are those with limited economic means. “Those struggling to make ends meet are always on the move, looking for work, and are more likely to misplace their documents,” Shiraz said. The rich, he added, will always find a way.
For now, there is a discernible lack of a middle ground. And, caught in the middle are the migrant workers, in Gurugram and in cities across the nation, whose lives have been plunged into uncertainty.