They take lunch breaks only after 4pm and mostly depend on free food distributed on the streets.
What they want most is a power bank for their mobile phones that keep running out of charge, what with the constant calls and toggling to maps.
They are the only ones criss-crossing cities and towns in every lockdown and still what they take home is barely enough to feed their families and put a roof over their heads.
The next time someone drops off your groceries, clothes or just dinner, pause and take a close look.
The delivery “boy” in his 30s or 40s may seem a tad unfamiliar with the protocol of dropping the parcel and scooting or the expected etiquette of few words and little eye contact.
And there’s good reason for that, reports Petlee Peter.
M Manohar, 48 | Used to be: tailor & garment shop ownerA tailor by profession, Manohar had his own garment shop at Uday Nagar near Tin Factory in Bengaluru.
That folded up with two lockdowns in two years and left him in heavy debt.
Now, he delivers food on his scooter, running 10-hour shifts, making about Rs 500 a day and a weekly incentive of Rs 1,500 if he completes 22 shifts.
Around 4pm, he settles on the pavement of 80 Feet Road to eat lunch out of a packet picked up from one of the volunteers distributing food.
“I miss my tailoring days when I was the owner and my own boss.
The shop is gone and so is that life,” he says.
The only consolation: He manages to put food on the table and sit down to dinner with his 64-year-old mother who is partially blind but waits for him to return every night.
B Murali, 21 | Office-boy-cum-housekeeperBorn to farmers Venkatesh and Jayamma in Chittoor, Andhra Pradesh, Murali was a happy office boy in Bengaluru, with dreams of buying his own motorcycle one day.
The lockdown left him jobless, his parents lost their crop and “they await my money order every month”, he says.
Part of the Rs 10,000 he makes every month as a food delivery boy is sent back home, while Rs 85 a day goes towards bike rental.
“This isn’t a bad job,” he says; after all, he gets to see all corners of the city.
“My only grouse now is the bike renters increasing the cost to Rs 160.” M Anbazhagan, 31 | CarpenterAnbazhagan and Shoba’s married life began on an idyllic filmy note: The couple lived in a cosy, single-bedroom rented house in Babusapalya and his income as a carpenter was just enough for the newlyweds to carry on contentedly.
The lockdown in April meant work ran out, the rent of Rs 5,000 became a burden and very soon, it was about putting together the next day’s meal.
Anbazhagan borrowed his friend’s bike and became a food delivery man from April 30.
He had to pick up basic English, learn to navigate Google Maps and figure out how to operate his e-wallet.
“Sure, the job means my wife and I don’t go hungry, but it is not something I want to do once the lockdown is lifted,” he says.
S Karthik, 30 | Medical representativeOriginally from Shivamogga, Karthik lives with his mother, wife and 16-month-old daughter Sriya in RT Nagar.
As a medical rep, he recalls, “I used to go around in my i20 and made enough to pay the rent of Rs 10,500 and provide for the family”.
Now, he works for a delivery services app, riding a bike across the city from 7am to 10pm.
He is running dues on his credit card and has a car and motorbike loan to pay off while managing the household.
“I need to make around Rs 40,000 a month to pay the dues, household expenses and ensure my daughter has enough milk while she is growing.
I’m desperate to get back to my old job once the lockdown is lifted.”
Delivery gigs to the rescue as lockdown dries up jobs
