One migrant morning in Bengaluru

“Ye barah lakhwala na? Isi ki baat kar rahe hai na? ” Shahid Hussain, 30, holds up a WhatsApp message on his phone right in front of me. It’s about the income tax exemption being raised to Rs. 12 lakh. Shahid is a crane operator with the Nagarjuna Construction Company working on a metro line in Bengaluru.

“We’re hearing a lot about this 12-lakh tax-free budget,” scoffs Brijesh Yadav at the same site. “No one here earns more than 3.5 lakh [rupees] annually.” In his 20s, Brijesh is an unskilled migrant labourer from Dumaria village in Uttar Pradesh’s Deoria district.

“While this work lasts, we’ll make some 30,000 rupees a month,” says Shahid from Biur in Bihar’s Kaimur (Bhabua) district. He’s been to many states in search of work. “After this job, either the company sends us elsewhere, or we look for other work that will pay 10-15 rupees more.”

At the traffic junction across the road, another migrant from UP is selling window shields, car neck supports, microfiber dusters and more. He paces up and down the road, nine hours daily, knocking on the windows of cars waiting at the junction. “ Arre ka budget bole? Ka news [Oh, what budget should I talk about? What news]?” Nafeez is visibly annoyed by my questions.

He and his brother, the only earners in their family of seven, are from Bharatganj in Uttar Pradesh’s Prayagraj district, 1,700 kilometres away. “What we make depends on our work. Aaj hua to hua, nahi hua to nahi hua. [If I earn today, I earn; if I don’t, I don’t]. I make about 300 rupees when I do. On weekends it can touch 600.”

“We’ve no land in the village. If we operate someone’s farms as tenants, it’s a ’50:50 system’.” That is, they bear half of all costs – water, seeds and more. “The work is all ours – still we surrender half the crop. We cannot manage. What to say about the budget?” Nafeez is impatient. The light turns red again and he’s sighting more potential customers in their insulated cars waiting for the signal to turn to green.