The road that runs from Chhattarpur metro station to the swanky Terminal 3 of the Indira Gandhi International Airport marks the southern frontier of the national capital. Quite aptly, it is named after Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan. On both sides of its western end lies an urban concrete village separated by a line of neon-lit hotels from the stretch of NH-8 that gained infamy following the December 16, 2012, gang rape.

Mahipalpur isn’t too far from Lutyens’ Delhi. It is a stone’s throw from several posh residential areas of the capital. For city slickers, it is the stuff that rush hour nightmares are made of, the perennial bottleneck between South Delhi and Gurgaon or the international airport. Inside, though, is a labyrinth of narrow alleyways paved with dust, uncleared piles of garbage and – every time this year – water woes.

It is hard to put a date on the fight that erupted between the women of Gali No 6D of Mahipalpur Extension. The controversial news report that appeared in Dainik Jagran on Sunday, June 12, said it took place last Wednesday, that is, June 8. Inadequately, the report was based solely on a WhatsApp video that, locals said, was originally posted on Facebook.

From the title of the video, available on virtually every phone in the area, it appears to have been shot on Tuesday, June 7. While this is also what Aam Aadmi Party’s (AAP) Bijwasan MLA Col Devinder Sehrawat told Kapil Mishra, Delhi’s Minister for Water, Newslaundry could not independently verify this claim. There have been suggestions that the fight was not about water at all, but the lane being blocked by the tanker, numbered DL-1LS-8656.

Regardless of why and when the fight took place — yet another local says it was on the Sunday before the report appeared, that is, June 5 — there is no doubting the fact that Mahipalpur and adjoining areas face an acute shortage of water. It’s especially bad during the summer months when the demand goes up. Some areas in the original village and A-Block, wedged between NH8, Abdul Ghaffar Khan Marg and the South Central Ridge, get piped water from Sonia Vihar (work on the Haiderpur link is still going on). But, on the other side of the frontier, most of the people who stay across Blocks K and L of Mahipalpur Extension as well as Rangpuri are not as lucky.

“Ek ghante se dhoop mein khade ho. Paani toh le lo [You’ve been standing in the sun for an hour. At least have some water],” says one of the elders of Gali No 2, K-Block. Ordinarily, it is an offer one does not refuse at high noon on an unseasonably hot Monday. But this is an area that faces an acute shortage of water, and it seems unfair to deprive its parched residents of a glassful.

A tanker of the Delhi Jal Board (DJB) came and went at around 8:30 in the morning. The schedule of the tanker numbered DL-1LS-8656, a copy of which was posted on Twitter by Col Sehrawat, says “Near H.No.-217” on Monday. Another slightly different schedule on the Delhi government website mentions the same house and tanker numbers. Other residents of the lane allege that the water – all 3,000 litres of it, excluding spillage – went to that one house.

Tankers supply water only to select houses, not entire neighbourhoods. Grievances are promptly registered and resolved in text messages but never redressed in reality. Borewells have dried up and desperately need re-boring. The specifics change with every lane, but the general grievances remain the same. As does Omerta – when it comes to revealing names, Mahipalpur is Sicily.

Complex interpersonal relations that go back generations – most original inhabitants are from nearby Jat villages of Mahipalpur, Rangpuri and Nangal Dewat – is part of the reason. But mostly, it is the threat of violence that boils over ever so often, especially when there is competition for a precious resource that is scarcely available. “That’s what happened at Gali No 6 the other day,” says a resident of Gali No 2, his off-white vest drenched in sweat. “We try to maintain peace, ensure that everyone has at least enough water to drink instead of fighting for more. But you never know when something will set someone off.”

Many areas that do not have access to piped water supply have to depend on borewells all year round. Unfortunately, due to a variety of reasons ranging from lack of maintenance to the water table dropping, many government-approved borewells in the area have run dry. The one at Gali No 2, complain residents, has not been functional since March 2002. The letters written by the residents’ welfare association as well as a couple of NGOs in April, requesting re-boring, say that the borewell has been out of water for 11 years.

AAP did not exist in March 2002. It did not exist 11 years ago either. It formed the Delhi government first in December 2013 and then again in February 2015. So when a citizen complains about the lack of water, it is not necessarily an attack on the party. As for AAP or Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal being talked about in not-so-glowing terms, that is an occupational hazard of democratic politics. Instead of blowing a hole in what was clearly a story, even as it lacked legwork, the mature thing to do would have been to focus on the issue at hand — the water crisis.

One of the recurring complaints is about the gulf between how tankers are supposed to supply water and what actually happens. The addresses mentioned in the schedules are supposed to be locations where locals can gather. In practice, tankers end up supplying water only to the specific houses mentioned in the schedules and not others in the vicinity. “Is there anyone to actually monitor the situation on the ground?” asks one.

This Monday, after the scheduled tanker came and went, women from about a dozen houses of Gali No 2 went to the DJB office in B-1, Vasant Kunj, at around 10am. They were not the only aggrieved party present there. When they asked for a tanker, they were told that a tanker can’t be sent again since one had already been dispatched at 8 that morning. It was only when someone made a few calls to DJB’s Najafgarh office that an emergency water tanker was dispatched.

Of the dozen families that reside in the lane, only four got any water. Little wonder, then, that they resort to private tankers — the usual asking price is Rs 2,000 for 10 kilolitres. Ask where these private tankers come from, though, and everyone is tight-lipped, and not without reason – they don’t want to jeopardise their one guaranteed source of water, never mind how suspect it is. “Not only is that water unfit for drinking, it can cause a host of diseases,” says the elderly gentleman. “But it’s not like we have a choice.”

The water supply of Mahipalpur comes under DJB’s Najafgarh office, but the tankers are dispatched from the emergency services centre in Vasant Kunj. The man in charge, Parveen Sehrawat, never answers his phone, allege the locals.

Newslaundry tried contacting the junior engineer with predictable results – calls were not answered, texts were not replied to. The same was the case with Mishra and Col Sehrawat.

At the Vasant Kunj emergency centre, there are complainants aplenty. Most are from Chhattarpur and Mehrauli, but there are many from Mahipalpur too. Their story is much the same — registered complaint using the hotline, promptly received message proclaiming resolution, no tanker ever arrived. They are holding out hope that a formal, written complaint submitted in person will yield better results. Perhaps hope springs eternal. Then again, this is how tankers are readied for rounds:

For Latur as well as Mahipalpur, hope is a dangerous thing.

The author can be contacted on Twitter @causticji