Dear Reader,

In Delhi, where extreme weather conditions make survival difficult, government-run shelters often serve as the only refuge for the homeless—offering a place to sleep, sanitise, access food and water, and receive medical care. However, despite a 2011 Supreme Court directive mandating one shelter per lakh residents, the Delhi Urban Shelter Improvement Board (DUSIB)—the agency responsible for managing shelters—has provisions for only 9,000. This falls drastically short of the nearly 17,000 officially homeless individuals in the capital, and is even farther away from the unofficial estimate of close to three lakh.

Compounding this crisis, Article 14 reports that many homeless individuals are denied entry to shelters because they do not possess identity documents, such as Aadhaar cards or phone numbers, despite a Supreme Court ruling that essential services cannot be withheld due to lack of identification. These systemic barriers disproportionately affect the most vulnerable, including trash pickers, beggars, and cleaners, many of whom migrate to Delhi in search of work.

Adivasis, India’s indigenous tribal communities, share a deep and intricate connection with the forests, which serve as their home and source of livelihood. Forests are central to their traditions and identity, a fountainhead of wisdom and knowledge. मैं भी भारत travels to Jharkhand’s Gumla district—home to some of the state’s densest jungles—to provide a fascinating account of how Adivasis live as one with the forest.

Kollam Parappu, also known as the ‘Quilon Bank’, spanning Kollam and Alappuzha districts in Kerala, is one of the richest fishing grounds on the South-West coast of India. It is estimated to provide livelihoods for over a million fishers across 200 and more fishing villages.

However, the region is now embroiled in the controversy over the Centre’s move to initiate off-shore sand mining and mineral extraction. This has raised anxieties that the intrusion could disrupt marine habitats, reduce fish catches, cloud water quality, and irretrievably pollute the ecosystem. TrueCopy Think talks to the fishing community in Kollam Parappu about their fears and apprehensions.

Well-digging, which had provided steady employment for Rajasthani migrants in Maharashtra for two decades, is now a dying profession. For years, state subsidies covering the cost of irrigation wells fuelled demand for skilled well-diggers, drawing a large migrant workforce. However, plummeting water tables now require wells to be drilled far deeper than before—often beyond 45 feet—necessitating rock blasting. This has significantly increased occupational hazards, leading to frequent accidents.

As a result, migrants have been forced to abandon well-digging in favour of safer occupations, such as street vending or jobs in the hospitality industry. The Migration Story reports that a profession once central to the livelihoods of Rajasthan’s migrant workers is now on its last legs.

For more such stories from the grantees this week, please read on.

Warmly,

Sunil Rajshekhar
IPSMF