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A shop that waits for 22 deaths

Updated on: 22 March,2010 08:54 AM IST  | 
Kumar Saurav |

The only legal opium shop in the capital is a shady hole-in-the-wall recess on Deshbandhu Gupta Road. With just 22 licenced buyers left, most in their 80s, it's breathing its last. the guide chased the excise constable in-charge and his seniors for 2 weeks running to gain access to the sarkari afeem ki dukaan

A shop that waits for 22 deaths

The only legal opium shop in the capital is a shady hole-in-the-wall recess on Deshbandhu Gupta Road. With just 22 licenced buyers left, most in their 80s, it's breathing its last. The guide chased the excise constable in-charge and his seniors for 2 weeks running to gain access to the sarkari afeem ki dukaan

WHEN it's the capital's only legalised opium shop you are about to visit, how in the world do you resist from imagining a flourishing under-the-table business? Cynicism is but natural, and when it's met with shock, the impact only doubles.u00a0


Excise constable in-charge Vijay Kumar weighs opium for Vidya Narayan.
Depending on the card they carry, each patient is entitled to 18 to 35 grams a month


Once you land inside the washroom-sized opium shop on the unassuming Deshbandhu Gupta Road near Paharganj, everything you thought about what a drug dealer looks like, comes undone. The shop was set up in the 1950s to sell afeem (opium) to those with medical prescriptions who could not survive without a daily dose. They'd get their dose only if they had a permit. These permits date back to the time when the shop was set up, and were issued only after a government hospital gave the necessary certificate after a mandatory check-up. The last few permits were issued in 1975.

"Pehle to yahan par board bhi nahin tha, commissioner saheb ne thode din pehle lagvaya hai," says Vijay Kumar, the 42 year-old excise constable who runs the place. But he refuses to reveal more. The humble request: "Aap pehle office me baat kar lijiye, phir hum baat kar paayenge." You can't prod any further when he dishes out a meek request: "naukri ka sawaal hai." The place is run by the Medicines and Toiletries Preparations Department of the Narcotics Bureau of India.

Kumar helps us contact the concerned officers who allow us to get clicking and talking on a Saturday morning. At 10 am, Kumar calls to confirm. "Sir, aap log aa
rahe hai na (Sir, will you be here on time)? I thought I'd make a reminder call since patients leave within 15 minutes of us opening shop."

He deals, never tries
When we get there, Kumar is busy polishing the archaic weighing balance that holds the weight of all controversy. He orders tea and biscuits, when we ask him if he's tried the drug himself. "Kabhi nahin. When I was about to accept the responsibility of this shop, my relatives were apprehensive. But I've never allowed myself to be trapped by the temptation," says the strong-willed Rajasthani. But being in contact with the drug has started taking a toll on him. "Neend bahut zyada aati hai. Dar lagta hai kahin koi complication na ho jaaye. If I have a minor cut on my finger, I get really worried. What if the drug comes in contact with the blood? I'm planning to buy protective gloves so that I don't have to touch it with bare hands."

Yours for rs 4.25/gram
The shop sells 605 grams of opium every month at Rs 4.25 per gram. Depending on the card they carry, each patient is entitled to 18 to 35 grams a month. There are only 22 patients remaining on the list, and the shutters of this shop will down forever when the last one standing falls. Vidya Narayan is an 80 year-old license holder, who started frequenting the shop in 1976 when it had 2,000 buyers. "I used to pay Rs 1.25 per gram." Once a young transport baron, the Model Town resident is now too old to take a bus here each time. He requests relatives to drive him down, and that's tricky because most of them are ignorant of his addiction. "If they'd give me a monthly quota, it would help. I even wrote an application in this regard, but the excise department refused," he shrugs.

There are rules to follow here. Only one patient is allowed at a time, so after Narayan, who enjoys a quota of


30 grams a month, leaves, it's Shahadra resident Uma Shanker's turn. The footballer is now a 77 year-old man who needs a 35-gram quota each month. "In 1955, I used to work as a fabricator in Okhla. During one of the welding structure training sessions in Jamuna Bazaar, a co-worker gave me a gram of afeem during lunch. My efficiency at work suddenly increased. Poore din ka kaam kuch ghante me khatam kar diya; the supervisor was shocked. Post work, when I went to play football, I'd hit the maximum goals." He says he quit when he moved to Mirzapur, Uttar Pradesh, for a year but got back to the habit on return. He'd end up consuming 250 grams a month that he'd buy from smugglers in Uttar Pradesh. "But the opium I get here is pure, so, I'm able to manage with the meagre quota. If I miss my dose, I can't walk, since my joints get jammed."



But Kumar is strict about the quota's weekly distribution. "When we hand out a limited amount, they consume it proportionately. The chances of illegal trading are also reduced. Yes, when there is an urgency, we do show
The opium trail

Villages in the interiors of northern India host acres of poppy fields producing opium. The cultivation is strictly regulated by the government. Every year, agricultural families are licensed to grow poppy plants on 1/10th of a hectare of their land. In exchange for the license, they must harvest a minimum of 4.5 kilograms of opium paste a year. Mid-way some of it does end up on the black market or is held back by villagers for personal use. Under the surveillance of Central Narcotics Bureau officials, tons of the sticky narcotic is collected from farmers and shipped to two of the largest processing plants in Ghazipur, Uttar Pradesh and Neemuch, Madhya Pradesh. From here, it's shipped to major pharmaceutical companies around the world.

some leniency." There are no more patients scheduled for the day, and Kumar settles down for a relaxed chat. "I know shops like these don't deserve to exist, but the patients got addicted because there was no awareness back then. Vidya has tried to overcome it, but beyond a point, he failed because his senses would numb."

Before opening the shop every Tuesday and Friday, he reminds patients that their dose is due. Kumar stocks at least 500 gms on any given day, and when stocks hit under 300 grams, he gets a refill from the excise office. We walk out of the dim entrance out onto a bright sunny street, with a chips and cold drink stall to our left. "Sarkari afeem ki dukaan, sirf card dhariyon ke liye (government opium shop, only for cardholders)," the tarnished signboard reads.

HOW TO REACH
If you're coming from Paharganj towards Karol Bagh on the Deshbandhu Gupta Road, as you near Karol Bagh, keep looking left for a very small board that reads, "sarkari afeem ki dukaan"

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