This story is from February 25, 2012

Beyond the glitter

Posing a stark contrast to the magnificence of the High Court building is a dingy lane right opposite where every other shop has a board, surprisingly written in Bengali.
Beyond the glitter
HYDERABAD: Posing a stark contrast to the magnificence of the High Court building is a dingy lane right opposite where every other shop has a board, surprisingly written in Bengali. Behind these shops are bylanes resembling a ghetto that are chock-a-block with sweatshops employing goldsmiths from West Bengal, most of whom are from Howrah, Hoogly and Midnapur districts, best known for their fine craftsmen.
1x1 polls
Old City is home to close to 15,000 Bengali gold craftsmen.
Amar Maiti works in one of these karkhanas. He has no fixed working hours or payment package. “Sometimes there is work for six months, when we are asked to deliver a piece of jewel every day. For the other six months we go without any pay since there is no work available,” says Maiti as he deftly works with a gas-cutter on a saddle-shaped wooden table dimly lit by a low-hung bulb. His room, which he shares with four others, is just large enough to accommodate a 6x12 feet table which he keeps outside after work and sleeps on the floor. Since Maiti’s workplace doubles up as living quarters, cooking material is kept alongside the sulphuric acid, nitric acid and other hazardous chemicals needed in jewellery-making. At 34, Maiti is probably one of the oldest craftman, most of them being in the 10 to 20 age group. The younger ones generally stoke fires and assist in polishing ornaments, which means their hands are exposed to hazardous chemicals.
Fourteen-year-old Rahu Malik came to Hyderabad two years ago from Domjur. Till date he has not been paid for his work. “This is the training period, when he gets three meals a day along with clothes once a year,” says Manik Mukherjee, who heads the Bengali Workers’ Association in the Old City. When asked if he would like to go to school, a shy Rahu says, “I don’t like school. But I want to sleep on a pillow.” Mukherjee explains that the workers do not get any mattresses or pillows.
Things have gone from bad to worse over the last two years, says Mukherjee. “With the rising gold prices many artisans are being thrown out of work,” he says. Also, with the central government selling jewellery-making machines in the open market, it was certain doom for workers.
All this has now resulted in a freeze in the influx of Bengali craftsmen to the city. “For the past one year, the flow of workers has decreased immensely. In Bengal, as farmers, these men earn a decent Rs 200 per day. Also there have been several cases of people, especially the young workers falling ill in the city. There are several who have committed suicide unable to work under inhuman condition with such a meagre and irregular pay. Then occasionally, there are cases of police harassment. Any Muslim worker from Bengal is considered a Bangladeshi, although there is huge section of Bengali Muslims in Bardhaman and West Midnapore districts. Police pick up these men and charge hefty amounts in exchange for their freedom. These stories have reached their hubs in Bengal. So people are scared to send their children here,” says Mukherjee.
The workers are left to fend for themselves as no NGO which has come forward to work with them. And, of the several Bengali organizations existing in the city, none has bothered to look their way. “It would be of immense help if these workers can get their Arogyasri cards at least, but even after knocking the doors of many bureaucrats, it couldn’t be arranged,” complains Tapas Chakrabarti, who is one of the better-off Bengalis in the area who gets these workers from villages and gets orders from the gold shop owners. “We need education to enter these lanes, otherwise there is no hope. But it is a constant struggle to convince the owners to send the child workers to school. Because of the step-motherly attitude that the city has shown to its Bengali artisans, they are afraid to venture out of this ‘para’ (locality). We first need to change that attitude,” sayd 32-year-old Tapas, who has been living in the same bleak lane for more than 10 years.
End of Article
FOLLOW US ON SOCIAL MEDIA