Working class hero

Jodhpur

India is a country of 1.3 billion people, or thereabouts. Naturally, in a country of that many people, it is not uncommon to find people everywhere. In fact, it’s very common. It’s just a plain fact. There are people everywhere.

Wherever we walk, whether it be down the streets, through the bazaars, along train platforms, in airports, restaurants, wherever you like, there are people. People will walk right in front of you, directly behind you, and beside you, touching your shoulder. This is as natural as a sleep in on Sunday; whilst you (and I) think in strange that a man is practically touching me as I walk, in his mind, he is simply going about his business. No second thought.

Naturally too, all these people need something to do. Whilst I’ve only visited a small slice of India, and whilst I haven’t been to the industrial areas, heavy/light manufacturing areas, nor for that matter, commercial areas, I have walked the streets, and I have been to a few cities.

What I’ve found is this: Everyone is doing something. Not a particularly interesting insight I know, but a useful way to describe the activity of Indian streets. 

But let be clear. Half the people seem to be sitting around doing nothing (this, in a way, is something) whilst the other half are hard at work. Now, work can mean sitting on a stool, sipping chai tea, and minding a shop, occasionally yelling out to tourists, it can also mean smashing a jackhammer in the hot sun, digging a hole, construction, and a whole lot of other tough, physical work. 

So, a typical street scene: men standing around in large groups talking (arguing?) with each other; people minding stores, people cooking and selling food, people bargaining over goods in markets, men sewing, woman washing, people walking, driving, lounging around on tuk-tuks, building, destroying, and reconstructing. 

What I’ve noticed is this. First, specialisation is intense. For instance, a lassi shop will have one person dealing in cash, one person making the drinks, one person handing out the drinks, another taking orders. Everyone is doing something different, something miniscule, and they will do this all day. There was one food store down a lonely back alley, where one guy’s job was solely to hold a bag open will the cook slid a wok full of just cooked noodles. Everyone seems to specialise in the tiniest little thing, and just do that day in, day out. The same goes for work sites. 

Secondly and partly related to the first, it seems as though once one person has found their work, that’s what they do, forever. So, once a man becomes a tailor, that’s his lot. He’s a tailor. It’s the same in our culture, to an extent, but no way near to the same degree. People do all manner of things back home, here, in the much bigger city; they seem to do far less individually, but far more collectively. The fictional protagonist of The White Tiger describes being a 'sweet seller' as moving up a class; I suggest reading the book for much greater insights than I could ever provide. 

Granted, I know little about the caste system (pertaining to the categorisation of jobs into certain caste groups, and the upward/downward mobility of a particularly caste), and I’ve haven’t touched on the financial or economic system, I’ve just touched on a few little observations that I’ve seen while walking the streets.

I wrote an essay once, in one of my university classes, on Asian miracle economies. That was about 4,000 words, and only just begun to describe the dynamics of a major Asian economy. I can’t hope to do any justice do it whatsoever in 500 words. What I can do is leave you with some images that I have seen of people working, and in some ways, pay a small tribute to, as John Lennon would say, the working class hero.