Men of the Spice Market
The sun is baking hot at midday. It finds it’s way through buildings down into narrow alleyways where it mixes with the dust and particles of freshly ground spices. Continual shouting meets it from the crowd of shoulder to shoulder buyers and sellers, while the engine noise from auto rickshaws and trucks drifts in from the outside world, along with the call to prayer of the nearby Fatehpuri Masjid at intervals. This is Khari Baoli bazaar in the heart of Delhi, and it is pure chaos.
Amongst this manic energy, the men of the spice market lift heavy sacks of grains, spices and legumes onto carts or onto their shoulders, and weave their way through the people and bicycles. Under the weight of their loads they run through the swarm. Past open fronted shops full of dried fruits, nuts, herbs and teas. Past Mughal arches and paint peeling from columns. Past tenth and eleventh generation traders and the chai wallahs and the chapati stalls that line the outer fringes.
They have been hauling, pulling and dragging heavy sacks, crates and boxes since the seventeenth century when Fatehpuri Begum, one of the wives of Shah Jahan, built a mosque nearby a now long disappeared salt water stepwell used by travellers to bathe and water their animals. When a market rose between the two, and people began refer to it as the bazaar next to Khari (“salty”) Baoli (“stepwell”).
The men of the spice market are immune to the burning nostril sensation that drives the newly initiated, watery eyed and sneezing, from the market after a few short minutes. They sweat and swear and occasionally stumble over uneven and pot holed streets, stooping and bending with the wight. To their destination and back they rush, over and over, for they are paid by the load. When rest is needed, they retreat to the rooftops. They watch from above or lay in the sun, stretching aching muscles.
Of all ages, but almost to a man with the same thin and sinewy build of the underfed manual labourer, they make their money while they can. For twelve hour days and whether sick or injured they must still deliver. Trucks continue to roll in and buyers continue to purchase. People rely on them for the small amount they earn.
And so the largest spice market in Asia continues. Underpinned and enabled by these men. The porters. The men of the spice market.
