My phone was flooded with videos of Dilli Haat on fire and queries from friends from as far away as Canada, New Zealand and the UK. I had to go there in the blazing sun the next morning to speak to all who had been affected. The fire that broke out on the evening of April 30 could have been caused by a small gas leak near the museum dedicated to the late President A P J Abdul Kalam — a wire from one of the many electric poles with trails of wiring, a carelessly thrown cigarette butt, or a short circuit. In the constant chaotic condition in which Dilli Haat is maintained, the conflagration was not surprising.
The destroyed area consists of 25 stalls, mostly of Kashmiri and other traders, who had been allowed to rig themselves up under colourful cloth and plastic-covered stores near the backstage. Around five adjoining stalls belonging to artisans making metal and marble goods and Madhubani paintings were also ruined. Luckily, the main body of the brick-and-mortar areas was not affected, and to the credit of all affected, the stall occupants focussed on getting visitors out of Dilli Haat. They did not try to salvage their goods as they were a deadly, flammable combination of textile, papier mache, paper, wood and trinkets, all covered with cloth and plastic sheets.
It was clear that there were two sets of occupants who had different stories to tell. First came those in the commercial category who had been allotted spaces after online bidding with Delhi Tourism, running into lakhs of rupees per stall for any length of time. Some of these tradesmen claimed their hard work over the past 35 years had built up Dilli Haat and believed they owned it. As its originator, I know Dilli Haat was established in 1994, (31 years ago), and no trader was allowed in until 15 years later, when the AAP administration decided to milk the golden cow. The crying and bemoaning certainly had theatrics and false claims thrown in.
One gentleman claimed he and his brother “owned two shops” that sold silver goods and pashmina. They claimed they lost goods worth Rs 95 lakh. Such stalls have big signs saying, “Real Pashmina” and “Real Silver”, indicating quite clearly the opposite to any discerning customer. No one can “own” a shop there. Items are bought cheaply and offered at ridiculous markups, which are then brought down through bargaining. This affects a genuine artisan who can neither bargain nor has the capacity to hold high stocks. The tradesmen complained that they bid online for their stalls, paid huge sums for randomly expanding the space they occupied, and as long as money exchanged hands, legitimately or otherwise, no rules were applied. They were not given any comfort or facilities and had to furnish, decorate, light up and protect their goods from the elements with no help from Delhi Tourism. Even these privileged persons felt short-changed. They had a point. Everything is an infrastructural or human jugaad at Dilli Haat. The management is oblivious as long as the prime space earns them profits.
The second group with whom I engaged was a smaller cluster of genuine artisans who either occupy stalls in the name of someone else, collect goods from many and sell under one name, or are legitimately allotted a stall at a lower central government fixed rent for a fortnight. Their main complaint was the overcrowding by the commercial stalls, so much so that in many areas it was difficult to move about or even breathe. During the Covid years, the rule of occupying every other stall was not applied to the crowded commercial stall areas until we raised our voices. The genuine artisan group was unanimous in its demand for Delhi Tourism to remove all commercial stalls.
Both groups were united in their complaints against the management. Fire tenders could not access the area under fire from the back lane as the two back gates to enter Dilli Haat were locked, and no one could find the keys. There were no functional fire extinguishers and checking was not done to ensure that there was no fire hazard. The chana/chooran seller has been allowed to operate from the narrowest corridor by building a cement platform
and blocking a lane that leads to the side lane exit. Flex banners envelope this stall, although Dilli Haat calls itself a “No Plastic Zone”.
The new Delhi government must use this tragedy and loss as an opportunity to clean up the rot that has set into Dilli Haat in the past 15 years, put people before profit and clean up Dilli Haat with the same zeal as it is displaying to clean up the polluted Yamuna River. Otherwise, everything will be another round of theatrics.
The writer is founder president, Dastakari Haat Samiti
