Kailash Shinde begins his day at six am. At quarter past seven, he boards the Churchgate-bound train from Andheri and alights at Grant Road station, where he meets 12 other dabbawalas from South Mumbai. The tiffins, labelled using a system of hand painted numbers, denoting where the lunchbox is supposed to be picked up from and delivered to, are assembled and ready to be shipped out. "Our group alone handles close to 550 dabbas in a day," says the 41-year-old. There are several such groups whose network is spread across the city. This has pretty much been Shinde's routine for the last 25 years. His late father, Madhav, was also in the same profession. "I've been a dabbawala for so long that I cannot imagine doing any other job," he adds.

That Shinde is being compelled to mull over an alternative profession after two decades is the result of a series of recent developments. Last month, a school in Dongri discontinued their service. It's one of the many schools that have debarred dabbawalas from delivering lunch to students in the last two years. "They didn't even bother to give us a reason or notify us in advance. It was very arbitrary," Shinde says. He has reason to fear.