Mission Delhi – Shyam Sundar Thapa, Asaf Ali Marg
One of the one per cent in 13 million.
[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
Except a discolored cloth around his waist, he is naked. Flies are buzzing on his lips. Grey stubble is growing out of his chin. His hair is wiry; his skin is hanging loose from his bones. The Delhi Walla came across this man one afternoon at a pedestrian corridor in Asaf Ali Marg, the road that borders the new and the old quarters of the city.
Lying on the floor, a few steps away from the ticket window of Delite cinema, the man’s body is still. It is greased black with dirt as if he hasn’t washed for months. A rickshaw puller named Muhammed Abid joins me.
“Do you know him? I ask.
Shaking his head, Mr Abid says, “He must be a laawaris. I don’t think he has family or friends.”
The middle-finger of his right hand has a ring.
“Is he a beggar?” I ask.
Looking at the man with patronizing contempt, the sort that a strict father would show to his truant son, Mr Abid says, “These people become beggars by choice. Can’t you see that his body is claimed by smack?”
All across Delhi, in backlanes and in subways, it is common to see homeless people – men, women and children – trying to sniff the fumes of heroine powder that they place on heated aluminum foils. Perhaps this is their only escape from hardships of the world.
The man has no flesh on his body. More flies have gathered on his eyes and lips. Some have started nibbling into a wound on his chest. Looking carefully at the flies, as if they could lead to a diagnosis of the man’s situation, Mr Abid says, “He’s dying.”
Mr Abid walks back to his rickshaw.
What is to be done? Should I call an ambulance?
Suddenly, the man stirs. Turning a little, he lifts his legs and mumbles some inaudible words. His eyes remain closed. Flies refuse to move away from his lips. The man mumbles again.
“Water,” he says.
I quickly get him a chilled mineral water bottle from Chor Bizarre, a fine dining restaurant at the nearby Hotel Broadway. The man holds the bottle close to his chest. Perhaps he is too frail to open the lid. I want to help him but I’m scared of coming in contact with anything that his unwashed, possibly infectious, hands have touched.
The man stirs again and somehow opens the bottle. I watch him drink.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m not able to walk,” he says.
“What’s your name?”
“Thapa.”
“What? Say that again.”
“Sh… Shyam Sundar Thapa.”
“Are you from Delhi?”
Mr Thapa finally opens his eyes. The flies flit around in excitement. “I’m from Nepal. My village is near Kathmandu. I came to Delhi 15 days ago from Haridwar.” The eyes close. The flies come back.
“Will you like to go back to your home in Nepal?”
He shakes his head very slowly.
“But how did you end up in this state?” I ask.
Mr Thapa again opens his eyes. He clasps his hands together as if in gratitude but says nothing.
While I’m wondering how to walk away from him, he starts speaking. “I’m very weak.”
I sit down by his side. Gently tapping on my arm, Mr Thapa says, “Don’t worry. I won’t die.”
[This is the 48th portrait of Mission Delhi project]
The living dead
[…] here for Shyam Sundar Thapa, the 48th portrait. Share and […]
I almost threw up my dinner. Shocking.
Hi…very honest & heart stirring writeup…
Touching and Thought Provoking …
If you just walk past and don’t help a person like that, and post his photos on your website that is your livelihood, you are no different from the flies that feed on his wounds.
Some people can’t be helped. I’ve tried. I set up a drug addict in a friend’s showroom after the guy promised he was clean. Two weeks later, he takes a big advance from my friend and vanishes the next day. A month later, he’s back at my friend’s showroom, begging for his job back… and another advance. In my opinion, without PROFESSIONAL help, addicts just can’t be cleaned up and they’ll keep hurting those who mean well.
Hi Mayank,
i cann’t stop thinking of this poor man after reading your article. Life is sometimes so cruel. Can we help him a better shelter or at least something to eat? Any chance? Let me know.
From Vietnam
It seems he had not ate for many months.
Heartbreaking.
There but for the grace of God…
And his name is Sundar. Oh my.
He and many more need help. This happens when we have low or no support mechanism, easy to slip, he still is a human who badly need help which isnt available to him.
As for some ppl’s comments about MAS, well MAS is an unpaid citizen reporter, easy to pass our judgments on him (yeh kar, woh kar…) from our arm chairs while we say two words of sympathy and be done with our human obligations. There is a difference between Reporter and Social worker. MAS is a citizen reporter. He has done is job already by creating awareness through this article. Now up to us, the arm chair humanists, to bring about a change or help many Thapas.
I’d be honest, I felt nothing besides the initial disgust! :\
Extremely touchy. Hard to even think about this..
even i think it is not ethical to click photos of a man whos about to die. that was my initial reaction but i think next time may be some of us will pay more attention to such people and not treat them INVISIBLE. and anyways this is the web.
“I quickly get him a chilled mineral water bottle from Chor Bizarre, a fine dining restaurant at the nearby Hotel Broadway. The man holds the bottle close to his chest. Perhaps he is too frail to open the lid. I want to help him but I’m scared of coming in contact with anything that his unwashed, possibly infectious, hands have touched.”
Many have tried to come out in support of the ‘Delhiwallah’ above. However, let me point out objective documentary photographers/reporters do not intervene. This sort of juxtapostioning of Broadway with this man’s plight and M.A.S’ disgust at touching him brings out exactly what is wrong with this kind of ‘reporting’. I really have a problem with this sort of poverty porn through the lenses of expensive cameras while doing nothing about it. Yes I find it exploitative and voyeuristic. What about the subject’s consent? Do the authors/famous personalities of Delhi interviewed for this blog just let MAS come into their house and start clicking? This is seriously disgusting and shameful.
And a word for those who talk about arm chair ctitics: yes in the same position I might have done worse, but that doesn’t invalidate the critique of the actions that are under scrutiny here.
Atleast the author had the guts to share his feeling.Always respect a person who can share what he feels.He had an option to get all fancy with words but he didn’t.
Anyway the post has definitively brought it to attention of masses.In fact an individual from Vietnam is willing to help.
I am doing my bit too.Forwarded the details to one of the NGO’s I am associated with, lets see what can be done for the man.
Just one word: UN-ETHICAL!
Scroll down a bit and you have MAS soliciting advertisements!
“Ad Enquiries
Contact mayankaustensoofi@gmail.com for ad enquiries.”
SHAME, MAYANK!
And please, drop this “Soofi” thing; you need to first deserve such epithets.