Bang in the heart of the Capital, and yet aeons away in terms of time, these families, almost all of them Muslims, have been living in this island for generations now. What fellow Delhiites take for granted — electricity or drinking water — is non-existent for these residents. They live on the island for eight months a year, and migrate to Wazirabad during the monsoons when the island is submerged in the Yamuna.

Their lone source of income is the one crop they cultivate a year. “We grow varieties of vegetables and wheat, and take our products to the Azadpur mandi,” says Mohammad Imran. “If the crop is good it’s comfortable. But a bad harvest means a hard year; the men then take up daily labour to make ends meet.”

Though the island has left the residents disconnected with outside world, as they have to wade through the water on foam boats, they have little to complain. In fact, living outside comes at a fair cost. “We have to pay nearly Rs 400 a month for a dingy room during the four months we spend in Wazirabad away from this island,” Munna Bhai, 80, says.

With no provision for safe drinking water, the residents have had to fight against severe health hazards over the years. “We manage to get some cans of drinking water from the nearby monastery every morning but generally use water drawn from handpumps for cooking and washing,” says Noor Jehan, a resident. “It is toxic, and children often fall sick.”

The never-say-die spirit, however, has seen the residents develop ‘their’ island. A few families who own cellphones keep two batteries handy, and get them recharged when they go to the city every two days. The mud huts, rebuilt every year, are done up tastefully with murals and frescoes. And even the chulhas are adapted on modern multiple-burner stoves.