Gadia Lohars: Ironsmiths facing heat beyond fire

Kansi Ram stands in front of his shop in Gurugram’s Banjara market. Behind him, in the bamboo and tarpaulin shed, is a diverse range of wooden furniture for sale, packed tightly into the small space. His wife, Asha, is seated nearby. She wets a cloth and places it on her head. The day has begun, and even mornings in Delhi’s summers are unforgiving, but the wet cloth on her head will keep her cool, she says.

Neither Kansi Ram nor Asha are any strangers to heat. For the Gadia Lohar community of traditional ironsmiths, fire was a constant companion. “Aisi garmi mein garam garam lohe ko peette the…aanch ke saamne bhot mehnat ki hai [We would beat the hot iron in temperatures like this…we have worked very hard in front of a burning flame].”

The Gadia Lohars trace their origin to Rajasthan, where they are listed as a Most Backward Community (MBC). In some places where a number of them exist, like in and around Delhi and Haryana, they are classified as Other Backward Classes (OBCs). They are very much a part of the 98 per cent of nomadic and semi-nomadic communities who do not own land. A mere 11 per cent of nomadic communities in India live on public land. Many Gadia Lohars live and travel in their bullock carts (gadi) which serve as mobile homes and workplaces.

Kansi Ram spent years on the road through hot summers and cold winters, hawking his wares of handmade iron tools, utensils and other implements.

But two decades of rising temperatures in and around the capital city Delhi, have taken a toll, and he has stopped moving around. “It’s pointless going from house to house, in such extreme heat. This is why we left the business and started this work,” he tells PARI.

India is the country most affected by heat stress, says the ILO report which also notes that the country lost 4.3 per cent of working hours in 1995 and is projected to lose 5.8 per cent of working hours in 2030.

Kansi Ram’s shop is on the footpath, and offers no shade. The jhuggi (makeshift dwelling) which is 15 minutes away, isn’t much better: four single beds jostle for space with a wooden TV cabinet, a fridge and a cooler, which cannot be relied upon. “Aandhi aa jaati hai..baarish waarish tab toot jaata hai...cooler wagera kuch nahi chal pata..raat ko machhar din mein upar garam hojata hai…andar nahi rehte..bahar sote hain [Frequent rain and storms destroy everything; coolers don’t work then. Mosquitoes and the heat make it hard to sleep inside, so we sleep outside],” says their daughter, Neha.

No jhuggi can survive extreme weather such as intense rain or storms. “We rebuild the jhuggis. We have been doing this since the start [of their lives here],” the 14-year-old tells PARI. Basic needs like water can cost around Rs. 6,000–8,000 a month.

Rising temperatures in the city have a severe impact on poor and marginalised communities living in ill-ventilated, overcrowded homes and workplaces, says this heat action plan by the Delhi Disaster Management Authority.

Kansi Ram arrived in Delhi 20 years ago from Rajasthan’s Chittaurgarh. “Ceramic wale, flower wale…sab ham hee hain…ek hi hain [The ceramic-sellers, flower-sellers – It’s all us],” he says, describing the many kinds of work that people from his community do in and around the markets of Gurugram, Haryana.

For the last seven-eight years, Kansi Ram has moved to selling wooden articles and furniture that he brings in from Jodhpur, Ajmer, Jaipur and Chittaurgarh in Rajasthan. Traditionally, Gadia Lohars went from village to village, selling handmade iron tools, utensils and other implements.

In summers, they see a sharp drop in sales as customers prefer to stay indoors. The Diwali season marks the start of better weather, and they manage to earn around Rs. 10,000 in a month. Profit margins on the goods they sell are on average around Rs. 50, often whittled down by buyers who bargain. These earnings only help with their daily food needs. “Getting to eat is important,” Kansi Ram points out.

Two years ago, government officials asked them to relocate their shop. “You can’t live here. You need to move.” The officials cited complaints by residents of big homes nearby about the cooking fires of the Gadia Lohars.

The footpath vendors say their shops and furniture are routinely destroyed in such forced relocations, and they are never compensated for it. “Committee wale tod fod kar jaate hain…kisika furniture tod diya…kisika kya tod diya [The committee members come and destroy people’s furniture and more].” They also worry about vandalism and theft. “We have items worth 3-4 lakh [rupees] lying around,” Kansi Ram says.

This destruction of property and the order to move caused Kansi Ram and other families a loss of around 20 lakhs collectively the last time it happened, three years ago in 2023. They are never compensated by the government, financially or otherwise. They rebuild their homes and go on living – ironsmiths who keep their families’ fires of hope burning.