An RPF jawan maintains the queue at Pune railway station
Migrant workers queue up at Pune station to board a train People in the circulating area of Pune station Migrant workers sit in a queue for their turn to board a train People sit in a queue and wait for their train in Pune station An RPF jawan maintains the queue at Pune railway station Migrant workers queue up at Pune station to board a train People in the circulating area of Pune station Migrant workers sit in a queue for their turn to board a train People sit in a queue and wait for their train in Pune station An RPF jawan maintains the queue at Pune railway station Giridhar says, “I worked as an eatery waiter and security guard in Pimpri for a year. My manager told me not to report for work until July next year, citing the need to accommodate a relative affected by drought. He said he would call me when things improved.
But how can I wait that long?”
The “out-of-job” remorse is unmistakable. Rational “jobless” migrant workers do understand the “crisis”. A friend has promised to help me find work in Kolkata, so I am heading there,” he says. “ Bihar mein abhi bhi bahaar hai (job scenario hasn’t changed there yet),” Rakesh quips.
A heavy rush of home-bound workers at Pune Junction station before Diwali and Chhath is common. What’s out of syllabus this time is the anxiety among migrant workers instead of the festive joy. But none curses former employers replacing them with drought-hit relatives and friends. “I worked there for over two years before being removed last month without an explanation. I later learnt that someone from Nanded was hired in my place. Diwali and Chhath will mean little unless I have a job. Why not Bihar?
Dinu Kumar (40), hailing from Supaul district in Bihar, stands in a serpentine queue on platform number 1 after losing his job at an automobile repair shop in Nigdi. Giridhar Paswan (46) from Madhubani district becomes anxious at the sight of RPF personnel, some accompanied by sniffer dogs, patrolling the crowded platform. Hundreds wait anxiously in the holding area of Pune Junction station as Azad Hind Express chugs into platform 1 around 7.40pm on Thursday. Rakesh Mahto (35), a resident of Jehanabad district in Bihar, wants to board the train to Kolkata after losing his security guard’s job at a commercial complex in Hadapsar. Hira Singh (43), a mason from Katihar district, tries to explain to an officer that he had mistaken the platform of Pune-Supaul Express. Ravi Kumar (25) from Vaishali district in Bihar, a security guard at a housing society in Koregaon Park, says, “I just want to spend some quality time with my family.
Because of drought, they lost their livelihoods. Because my elderly mother’s last wish is to celebrate Chhath with me, i am going home. You Can Also Check: Gold Rate in Pune | Silver Rate in Pune | Bank Holidays in Pune | Public Holidays in Pune | Petrol Price in Pune | Diesel Price in Pune | CNG Price in Pune | LPG Price in Pune Stay updated with the latest Pune news.
Hum ab nahi aayenge (I will not come back now),” he says. He told me that they were farm workers. Aab agle saal Dilli jayenge, ya phir Mumbai (Next year, I will go to Delhi or Mumbai),” Dinu says, without disclosing if he was compensated for the job loss. He says, “Bihar ke log himmat nahi haarte (People from Bihar do not lose courage). Better opportunities will come our way,” says Rakesh. Kaam humko mil jayega kahi bhi (I will get work somewhere),” Hira says.
Pune: This festive season, several migrant workers from Bihar earning a living in the city will head home forever — jobless under the cascading effect of drought in Maharashtra. “I have been fixing tyres for the past two years. “My employer recently hired three men from Beed — relatives of one of his acquaintances. My employer could not turn them away. I tried explaining that I had the necessary experience, but he did not change his decision. Drought-hit farm workers are increasingly moving to cities in search of work. Some of them are being hired as replacements for migrant workers from other states keen to go home during festival time. “Why do they think we are criminals? We are hardworking men,” he quips. I will venture out again and find work somewhere. The jobless migrant workers’ absence of anger towards former employers springs a surprise. “Circumstances forced their decisions. The holding area remains stiflingly humid despite several ceiling fans. RPF personnel pull up a large group of passengers for attempting to break the queue. “ Kaam se nikal diya hai toh kya kare (What can I do if I have been removed from work)? I had been working as a mason for three years. Not all at the station will head home for good. I might even get married this time. Ravi’s companions in the queue break into laughter. Download the TOI App.