With apologies to none at all
By Vikas Mehta
Yes, I had ended my last post with a link to the new Pepsi rehash of the old ‘yeh dil maange more’ ad. And had promised to review it. But, hey, promises are meant to be broken. Am actually so disappointed at the ads dished out during the IPL that I refuse to talk about them. Instead, I will narrate two contrasting tales that I picked up over Eid.
A friend was just settling down to enjoy the Eid holiday when he got a call from a friend who was coming over with some Eid sweets. My friend panicked as he had nothing to offer. But then being a millennial and having acquired the habits of Gen Z, he immediately remembered Blinkit. Sure enough, Blinkit was offering Eid sweets, not the typical Eid sweets like Sewaiyan but Feni Lachha, Agra Petha, Panjeri Laddoo…you get the drift.
As luck would have it, my friend’s guest and the Blinkit delivery guy reached almost together. The guest was dressed in Eid livery and as my friend opened the door to his apartment, the Blinkit delivery guy too turned up. He delivered the order and then wished the guest Eid Mubarak in a choking voice. While the guest reciprocated heartily, my friend checked on the app and discovered that it was Eid for the delivery guy too. Instinctively, he called the delivery guy who had by then almost reached the lift, and handed over the Blinkit packet to him wishing him Eid Mubarak.
Taken totally by surprise, the delivery guy burst into tears. It seems he had reported for his job against his family wishes, because he knew that being Eid there would be a shortage of riders, an excess of orders and he could earn better. So, while he ached to be with his family and celebrate the festival, economic compulsions and family responsibility steered him away from it. But, my friend’s gesture bowled him over. Watching all this, the guest too slipped in a note into his palms and urged him to go home to enjoy Eid with the family.
Now, before we all go mushy and applaud the generosity of the two gents, listen to another incident that I picked up the same evening. My wife’s friend had called her over for a small Eid party. While they laid out a sumptuous dinner, the lady of the house seemed a bit off-colour. On enquiring, she found out that the friend was upset with Myntra. She had ordered an Eid dress for her daughter, a bit late but the delivery date as promised was on Eid. So, she was relieved that she had not failed her daughter.
But, on the morning of Eid, she got a message from Myntra that due to some operational issues, the delivery will be delayed. Now, this lady was tracking the package and she knew that it had reached Dehradun. So, she deducted, rightly, that due to Eid, there was a shortage of delivery guys. And that upset her. She was angry and upset that her Eid had been spoilt.
What contrasting tales. Here were two people who had instinctively succumbed to the spirit of the festival. Caring and sharing had come naturally to them.
On the other hand, was this person who had a narrow selfish view of the festival. Who did not get the spirit of the festival and treated it very transactionally.
That’s of course, my view. But the diversity of human behaviour never stops to amaze me. And also, the unpredictability of it.
More crucially it also tells us the indifference we have towards the gig worker. As consumers we have lapped up the culture of home delivery. We marvel at the technology. We are awestruck by the whole process. We are delighted by the speed of delivery. And we are also happy that employment is being generated in the form of delivery guys. But, have we ever thought about humanising the last mile delivery.
The word gig comes from an early twentieth century jazz slang. When two or more musicians would combine together to perform informally. No contract, no formal agreement, no payment promised. In today’s economy, it stands for any informal job. And that is what I cannot understand. Why is this last mile delivery an informal job? Isn’t it one of the most important parts of the delivery process? When every day, nay, every minute counts in making the delivery happen, why is the role of the delivery boy downgraded to a foot note?
These people have no formal timings. No structured holidays. No minimum payment guarantee or even a basic pay. Their remuneration is linked to just delivery. Come rain, come extreme heat, come festivals, come illness, these gig workers have to soldier on.
And please, do not compare them to a train driver or to a medical worker or to a public transport official. All these people have jobs. Not gigs. Fixed pay, not just a variable component. Sick leaves, designated holidays. Either gratuity or pension or both. Even insurance. Nothing of that sort exists for a gig worker.
Before you accuse me of turning socialist or maybe even communist, all I am actually doing is to draw the attention of us, the consumers, who meet and interact with these people daily, to the fact that delivery people are not robots. They are as humans like you and me. But is our behaviour towards them human?
I have a theory called the Indian housewife theory. It is expected that the housewife will make tasty meals every day. In fact, three times a day. And rarely do we have a word of appreciation towards the food cooked. Because we take it for granted. But once in a blue moon if the food goes wrong for whatever reason, the whole family rains down on the housewife. No appreciation for the 99% good food. But protest and howlers for that 1% of mistakes.
And that’s how we treat the delivery or gig workers. We rarely acknowledge them. We hardly notice them. But they become our target if they are late or there is a problem in delivery.
All I am asking therefore is that we as consumers must change our attitude towards the gig workers. Have empathy. Treat them with respect. It’s getting hotter. We do not venture out but expect them to deliver. On time. The least one can do is ask them if they need a glass of water. Maybe a small snack. An orange a day will not burn a hole in your pocket but it will not only refresh them but also make them feel appreciated and human.
And some apps like Blinkit now give you the option to tip them. Do that. If you have saved Rs 20 in that delivery, tip it. And if you are really transactional, satisfy yourself by thinking that you save much more than the twenty rupees. You saved the effort of venturing outdoors. Didn’t you? So, nothing wrong in tipping them a small amount.
We, the customers have to start this movement. One may call this socialist thinking but frankly I don’t care what it’s called as long as it helps us be humane. Can we at least make a beginning?