Grind behind the glitter
Dinesh Rathod

MONTU Mondol is one of the few master goldsmiths in Mumbai whose designs adorn the necks of the royalty in Europe and West Asia. He specialises in neckpieces and is much sought after because of the originality of his creations, particularly with floral and paisley motifs.

But Montu is not smart enough to know his worth. Like most other goldsmiths in the city, Montu is a migrant from Bengal, unlettered and largely ignorant about the ways of the world. He works on a daily wage for a Gujarati jeweller who owns a chain of showrooms, catering to the rich and the famous.

His workplace is a stuffy 10 feet by 10 feet shed in Fofal Wadi, which he shares with nine other boys. For 15 hours every day, seven days a week, they sit hunched over bizarre saddle-shaped tables, chiselling intricate patterns on little pieces of gold or refining and polishing the metal.

The room is hazy with smoke from a coal fire in the corner where gold is melted in an earthen pot. Nearby, cooking utensils and groceries stand alongside sulphuric acid, nitric acid and other hazardous chemicals used in making jewellery.

A visitor would want to flee from this hellhole within moments, but for the artisans working there, there is no such choice. The place gives them between Rs 3,000 and Rs 5,000 a month. Many of them even live on the premises, sleeping in the loft and cooking in the corridors.

This scene is a recurrent feature in many other shops of Mumbai’s famous gold district — better known as Zhaveri Bazaar. Following the gas cylinder explosion, claiming 24 lives in Bhuleshwar unit last year, stocking of hazardous material on the premises has been banned. But no one cares.

Now there is talk of the government setting up a committee to suggest "ways to improve the working conditions in jewellery manufacturing units". The panel will also explore the possibilities of relocating some units in other parts of the city such as Wadala, Mazgaon and Versova.

According to the municipal corporation, the committee would comprise representatives from the state departments of health, urban development, home and environment, as well as from the local gold trade. The idea is to reorganise the economic activity in one of the oldest and busiest parts of the city.

Here, the concerns of the gold artisans are only incidental. As many would point out, the government is buckling under pressure of local residents who have been complaining of toxic fumes from the workshops polluting the area as well as vibrations caused by gold compressors rattling their dilapidated buildings.

Old-time gold merchants are resisting the move for relocation for logistic reasons. Being in Zhaveri Bazaar not only gives them access to raw material and sales outlets, but also provides them security as "no thief can easily get away from such a congested area".

In all this, does the poor artisan have a say?

Goldsmiths may argue that the artisans are paid "fair wages" and if they work in cramped conditions, so do their employers. As per government records, all manufacturing units are registered under the Shops and Commercial Establishments Act and no illegal activity is conducted there.

What does not get into government records though is the peculiar situation of the artisans, which makes them vulnerable to ill-treatment and exploitation. They are mostly Muslims who hail from some of the poorest districts of West Bengal and, hence, are conveniently labelled as Bangladeshis.

The fear of losing their jobs and being sent back makes them suffer in silence. Being illiterate and saddled with family responsibilities, they would rather not protest or form trade unions. Even then, the police has been raiding the premises and arbitrarily picking up boys who do not have domicile papers. From time to time, some are herded into trains to Kolkata, and further on, only to be let loose on the Bangladesh border.

Another reason for these young artisans to bear the daily ordeal and exploitation without a murmur is the knowledge that should they quit, there will be ten others to take their place. These workers know no other skill. Crafting gold ornaments is an art they have inherited from their forefathers.

But there are no takers for their work back home.