The sorrows got unmasked and there was no trace of joy.

Lured by the promise of “acchhe din” nine years ago, the poor appear to be yearning for the return of the olden days when survival wasn’t such an agonising struggle.

The grim reality, obscured by the glittering propaganda of Amrit Kaal, came to the fore during the visit of Rahul Gandhi to the Azadpur mandi, Asia’s biggest wholesale market for vegetables and fruits, on August 1.

Although Rahul visited the mandi last week, the video of the conversation with the people there was released on Monday.

Almost everybody, from traders to vendors and labourers, expressed the pain of regression in life. One person said: “We could manage around Rs 15,000 earlier. Now we struggle to reach Rs 10,000.”

The declining income was a common refrain; the closure of industries during notebandi (demonetisation) and Covid in the nearby areas enlarged the labour force in the market, whittling down wages.

One worker explained: “I was employed at a steel factory in Wazirpur (Delhi’s industrial area). Most of the factories closed down. The workers came here, increasing the availability of labour. If somebody gave Rs 20 for a job earlier, now he offers Rs 15, even Rs 5.”

Another distraught man intervened to say: “If we earned Rs 300 in the past, we could save Rs 100. Now if you earn Rs 500, the expenses cross Rs 600.”

When Rahul asked what hurts the most in the context of rising inflation, a vegetable trader said: “The price of LPG cylinder.”

This is hurting the poor across the country as Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who condemned Manmohan Singh for selling a cooking gas cylinder for Rs 400, has pushed it beyond Rs 1,100.

The Congress discovered this in its surveys conducted in several states and hence moved to ease the burden by paying cash to the poor wherever the party is in power.

While Karnataka gives Rs 2,000 to every woman head of the family, Himachal has fixed Rs 1,500, in addition to an LPG cylinder at Rs 500. Rajasthan is giving LPG cylinders for Rs 500 and the party has promised the same in Madhya Pradesh.

This intervention to aid the sustenance of the people grappling with wretched poverty was condemned by Modi as a threat to the country. He has contemptuously described it as the “revdi culture.”

The poor have sensed the contempt and has begun to resent it. One boy told Rahul: “You have come here and sat with us to discuss our problems. Nobody allows us to sit with them. Lathi maarte hain, bhaga dete hain (They hit us with the stick and push us away).”

Rahul sat down with a group of people in the dingy market and discussed their lives over a cup of tea.

The Congress describes this as an extension of Bharat Jodo Yatra, indicating that the second part may not be coming. Instead of embarking on another cross-country march by foot from West to East, Rahul has been interacting with cross-sections of society to understand the dynamics of their life first-hand. He has met farmers, truck drivers, motor mechanics and students over the past few weeks.

The visit to the Azadpur mandi came amid public unrest over rising prices of eatables, with tomato crossing Rs 300 a kg for the first time.

There are many such milestones in the Modi regime: while petrol crossed Rs 100 for the first time, diesel caught up with petrol. Under Modi, pulses and edible oil had crossed the Rs-200-barrier for the first time.

Although Modi gave the slogan “bahut hui mahngai ki maar, abki baar Modi Sarkar” in 2014 before he ousted the Congress, his supporters now argue that the great leader was not meant for dealing with the prices of petrol and tomato.

Ironically, Modi had proudly asked at public rallies after reducing the prices of petrol and diesel for a brief while in 2014: Petrol-diesel ke daam kam huye kin nahi? Aapki jeb mein kuchh paise bachne lage ki nahin?”

Now he doesn’t talk about prices or jobs. Nowadays his main obsession is abusing the Opposition combine — INDIA — and how India’s prestige was enhanced by the respect given to him in America.

But ordinary people do not seem impressed.

Vendors at the mandi told Rahul how they sleep hungry at least two-three nights a week and how miserable they felt when the children questioned them on their financial plight.

One trader said: “My kids tell me ‘earlier you brought so many things for us but now you bring nothing’. I tell them the income has declined. They say quit this work. But where are the jobs? There is no job.”

Rahul asked: “How do you feel when children ask you these questions?”

He replied: “Very bad. Wefeel the pain.”

If one labourer said he had not met his family staying in Bihar for over one-and-a-half years, another explained how he walked home during the Covid lockdown and lost his wife.

They narrated why high inflation was bad for everybody — the seller, the buyer and the workers engaged in the market. High prices reduce consumption and create uncertainties in the market.

“One box of tomatoes costs Rs 4,000 now. If I buy the box and the tomatoes do not sell in the retail market, I will suffer huge losses. People don’t buy such costly stuff. Then you go home and sleep without food,” a trader said.

They also complained that big players lift the produce directly from the farmers and sell them at a cheaper rate. “We get tomato for Rs 160 a kg but the Reliance store is selling Rs 120 a kg. We can’t compete with them.”

They said things were better earlier and they were happier. Some of them might have contributed to this situation by casting their vote in the hope of “acchhe din”. But they are dismayed now.

Rahul didn’t make any promises, didn’t weave dreams of “acche din”.

But one in the crowd assured him: “Samay badlega, Sir.”

That’s the depth of desperation and despondency.