Friday, 15 November 2024
Friday, 15 November 2024
Lakkhi Samanta Rai does not have much work these days. She sits quietly in her small stall at the corner of Bidhan Sarani in Hatibagan near a petrol pump. Her face, lined with wrinkles from years of hard work, reflects the struggles of her life.
Dressed in an outworn cotton saree and blouse, sporting a big red bindi on her forehead, a measuring tape draped over her shoulder, the tailor who is in her fifties mostly watches videos on her keypad phone these days, typing with the crepey skin on her hands and fingers.
She can’t afford a smartphone. But her un-smart device does play videos and that is enough to keep her distracted in the long, empty hours that mark her days lately.
“Bajaar ekebare baje [the market is totally down],” she says.
For over 25 years, Lakkhi has run her tiny shop, a small stall filled with nighties and sarees and her trusty sewing machine in front of her. It’s not even a shop, just a corner where she has made a living, stitching clothes for the people of nearby areas in north Calcutta.
“Last year I used to get around 10-15 customers per day during the Durga Puja season but this year it is nothing! Some days in the evening I get one or two customers,” she says.
This year, things are different. The usually bustling streets are quieter, the usual flow of customers has slowed down. Thanks largely to the incessant protests following the horrific rape and murder of the trainee doctor at RG Kar Medical College & Hospital, people are not coming out for their usual Puja shopping, she says.
“I am having problems travelling as well. One day I reached home at 12: 30 at night. Every day I have to worry whether I will get a bus to travel to Khardah, where I live, and how much time will it take because of continuous protests. Aasha jawa karbar sob uthe geche’ [Travelling, business both are hampered]” she says.
“But still I want justice, even if it means we have to face tough times." she adds, determination creeping into her voice.
Lakkhi has three sons, a daughter and grandchildren. But she works to contribute to keep the house running, even though she doesn’t earn much, just about Rs 30 to Rs 40 per customer. Her sons run small shops and one does a small job. Her daughter used to work as a nurse, but now stays home.
Lakkhi wants to earn for her grandchildren, and to not depend on her children.
“Not just mine, but my fellow street hawkers in the Hatibagan and Shyambazar line, even their business is affected. Most of my work materials are at home, I also prefer keeping my shop mostly closed these days,” she says.
Why then does she support the protests that have crippled her business?
“A family has lost their doctor daughter, the loss felt by parents can be felt only by parents only and nobody else,” she answers, the determination back in her voice.
“Onyay, onyay; sekhane khomar toh kichu nai. Sheta ke chepe dewar dorkar ki? [Injustice is injustice; there is no place for forgiveness here. What is the need to suppress the truth]?” she asks.
In that one line, she articulates what a lot of people in Bengal and Calcutta are saying in the protests: Why was there an attempt made to cover up such a shocking crime like the rape and murder of a young, bright doctor on duty in a government hospital?
Many hawkers in the Hatibagan area echo Lakkhi’s despair over the lack of business.
“My sales are down by 75 per cent this year,” says Bijay Das, 38, who sells footwear at Hatibagan market. “The market and situation both are extremely bad. There are people but no customers. Esob amra kake bolbo? Jar dosh ache tara doshi, oder jonno amader osuvidha [To whom do we say all this? The people who have committed the crime are criminals, but we are suffering because of them].”
Raja Das, 39, who sells junk jewellery not far away, agrees.
“This year I am not getting customers at all before Puja. Sales have declined by 50 per cent compared to last year. It is not a good feeling to not get customers the entire day, but this issue also needs to be solved as soon as possible. Today it has happened with a doctor, tomorrow it can happen with a patient,” he says.
The anger over the rape-murder amid the despair over lack of business extends beyond Hatibagan.
“Ever since the protests started, sales have declined by more than 50 per cent,” says Vivek Jain, 43, from Laketown who runs a clothes shop in the Dharmatala area for more than a decade.
“People are scared to come to this area; anytime they are putting barricades, due to which the public also cannot come. On top of that there is so much disturbance due to loudspeakers and constant speeches by political leaders. It is a saturation point for us as we cannot reduce prices anymore,” Jain says.
But he also adds: “But I won't say that the protesters are wrong; justice is necessary to stop crime.”
