Sitaram Kabadi

Our yard is at number 434 in Naraina Village. If you come by, you’ll see piles of iron, old pipes, and all sorts of scrap metal spread out everywhere. It’s a dusty place, and there’s no getting around the fact that it’s dirty work. We spend our days weighing things on the big scale out front and moving heavy bits of junk from one pile to another. It’s loud because of the trucks coming in and the sound of metal hitting metal. We don't have an office, just a small shack with a desk where we keep the records and the cash box. There’s usually a stray dog or two napping in the shade under one of the old trucks. We’ve been doing this in Naraina for a long time, and we know exactly what each type of metal is worth just by looking at it. The ground is uneven and you have to watch your step so you don't trip over a piece of wire or a discarded engine block. We don't wear uniforms, just old clothes that can handle the grease and the rust. It’s a hard way to make a living, but it’s what we know. People bring us their old appliances and broken machinery, and we break it down to see what can be saved. It’s not pretty, and there’s no fancy talk here. We just weigh the scrap, pay the price, and get on with the next load.