Mass evictions of people living in slums across cities, using force, allegations of harbouring ‘illegal migrants’ have acquired phenomenal pace in the past few months. Calling out certain demographics, like Muslims and those who speak in Bengali, as non-citizens and housing them in ‘holding centres’ has made the exercise acquire a menacing character. The Wire reports on people vital to building city infrastructure, living on the margins, now suddenly finding their citizenship challenged.Observing the events unfolding in Gurugram, Haryana, over the past few years (as this is not the first time) with regards to the Bengali migrant worker community hailing from West Bengal; it is hard not to sympathise with their ordeal and uncertainties in everyday life.In recent years, vigilantes and mobs have attacked them, their homes have been demolished, they have been repeatedly labelled as Rohingyas and/or Bangladeshis, therefore “illegal immigrants”, forced to flee, and ultimately deserted by their home state; left to live in fear of the domicile thousands of kilometres away, as their home state spectacularly fails to bring them home through employment generation. In today’s date, it is just the government is taking it forward.I am an average IT sales guy based out of Gurugram, residing in an upscale gated housing society. It was July 24 and I was sipping my first coffee reading an article in the Hindustan Times, talking about the exodus of Bengali migrant workers from Gurgaon.Bengali migrant workers have been fleeing Gurugram recently, fearing police detention. Photo: Atish AzizI am witness to the said exodus myself. In my resident gated community more than half of the community housekeeping staff had already fled by fourth week of July, along with the self employed car-cleaners, house helps, cooks, nannies, dog walkers, garbage collectors and other blue collar employees; their rented quarters, belongings, clothes, children’s education, jobs and gigs – more or less everything – left behind.Being a Bengali myself, I set off with the goal to speak to the community to understand what they were experiencing and what the next step for them was. My first stop was a small photo studio-cum-photocopying shop behind Sriram Dhaba in Sector 49. As I entered the shop to get a photo taken, I observed quite a large crowd of people waiting outside for their turn. The shopkeeper informed me that they had gathered to get their IDs photocopied as all contractual employees have been asked to re-submit their police verifications, due to the hunt for the so-called ‘illegal immigrants’.One of them was a Bengali Muslim young man in his mid-30s named Ahtesam*. He said he works as a housekeeping staff in the nearby JMD building. While getting his ‘police re-verification’ paperwork sorted, he was in half-a-mind to ask the adjacent ticket booking shop to arrange a ticket for him to Malda, in West Bengal, via Howrah, Sealdah or New Jalpaiguri. Why? That morning, at the same residential quarters he resides in, a young man from Chanchal village, Malda, was ‘detained’ by the police. He was a toto, or E-rickshaw, operator. As per Ahtesam’s eyewitness account, the young man tried to show his identity proofs but they were of no consequence to the police.He was roughed up, beaten and then shipped to one of the so-called detention centres in Delhi NCR in a police van. Ahtesam was afraid that going to the police station (for re-verification) itself might be a ploy to detain and harass other migrant workers like himself.Another man, Sunil*, from Uttar Pradesh, was also exasperated with this ordeal. The police re-verification would cost him half-a-day’s wage in addition to the “ghee” he may have to offer to the officer to ensure his papers are stamped.“Bhaiya aap jo bhi bolo, sab kuch mein pareshani byass gareeb logon ko hi hai (Brother, whatever you say, the poor have to face all the trouble)”. True on many levels. The whole situation had not sunk in for me until it came close to home. That afternoon my cook, a lovely Bengali Muslim lady, let me and my wife know that she would be leaving Gurgaon first thing next morning. It was difficult for her. She and her husband had accrued a huge debt while paying for her father-in-law’s cancer treatment. Both work 16+ hours a day to pay off their debt, in addition to running a household and paying for their children’s education. Now, everything is uncertain. They had thought they could weather this storm without leaving their livelihood behind but that does not seem to be the case. The previous night, in Fazilpur Dhani, where she lives, a young man was indiscriminately beaten up and shipped away to a detention centre at 9.30 pm while getting ration from the kirana (local grocery) store. This incident had pushed her and her husband over the line.Abdus Salam*, a resident of South Malda, West Bengal, came to Gurgaon seven years ago with an aim to save enough money so that he can go back home, buy some land for agriculture, set up a small village shop and raise his family.He worked as a cleaner for Urban Company and was efficient to the core. This efficiency gave him the confidence to leave UC and freelance his services. His dedication forced him to not go back to his village. His mantra was, “Work hard and achieve your target, there will be plenty of time to take it easy later, also don’t waste money in the meantime.”However, this changed soon.My wife’s phone buzzed at 11 pm, a disturbed Salam on the other end told her how afraid he is to go out and work. Because of this volatility, he booked a flight ticket to Bagdogra, costing him a hefty sum but he just wanted to leave. Bengali migrant workers have been fleeing Gurugram recently, fearing police detention. Photo: Atish AzizThere is a significantly large contingent of car cleaners from the Murshidabad district who work at the gated communities of Gurugram. The next morning, there was chatter within the residents of these communities, that the majority of the car cleaners were absent. In order to dig deeper, I met Ziaul*, one of the car cleaners who cleans around 30-40 cars a day in my society. He looked visibly tired and stressed, his shoulders slouched. His 6-foot height seemed much less. Ziaul said that the police had started detaining people during the early hours of July 25 when they were coming to work. One of his neighbours was detained at 6 am, and even though he had his Aadhaar card, PAN card, and voter ID on him, he was beaten mercilessly and taken away. Ziaul claimed that the police were detaining women as well, which sounded alarm and caused panic amongst the workers. Ziaul and other car cleaners discussed how they were all afraid to go out as the documents were deemed inconsequential by the police. It was better to stay indoors, they thought, rather than go through the horror that was waiting for them outside.In an upscale salon in Vatica City on Sohna Road, senior hair stylist Shyam* talks about how the masseuse, pedicurist, the office boy and some stylists have all left the city in the last 24 hours reluctantly but in a rush. Shyam, who is close to his team, sent three of his colleagues to his hometown in Punjab for the time being, to wait and observe for things to die down in a week or two, if they do. In society WhatsApp groups and club houses, even in the posh localities of Gurugram, educated, the upper-middle-class section is tagging Bengalis and terming them “illegal immigrant Bangladeshis” without any thought to the matter.When I compare this with Shyam’s gesture, my mind just drifts to class unity: how the white-collar professionals – even though they sell their labour as do the very migrants they look down upon, even though they have migrated from other states and even though they too harbour the dream to immigrate to the Western world, when the battle lines are drawn, they choose to desert the community in need – the ones who serve them and their families.There are many more first-hand experiences I have gathered in the last few days but maybe will park them for later.As I finish writing this article, I switch on the TV and an advertisement pops up – it is AmitabhBachchan for a basmati rice brand, with a monologue of how inclusive India is and how visitors are treated with love and grace:“Aiye duniya ko dikhate hain, India mein mehman kaise devta samaan ban jaate hain…(Let us show the world how a guest is treated as equivalent to god in India)”Ironic, but maybe the ad refers to the “mehman” who are not minorities and those who are not from India, but the countries they wish to immigrate to.*All names have been changed to protect identity.Atish Aziz is a digital transformation professional.