Heatwave Hustle: How Hyderabad’s Gig Workers Brave the 45° Sun

Amidst Hyderabad’s punishing summer heat, where temperatures frequently soar past 45°C, the city’s gig workers remain constantly on the move. These individuals, ranging from food delivery riders to ride-hailing drivers, are the invisible backbone of urban convenience, ensuring that thousands of residents receive timely access to meals, groceries, and essential services, even as the asphalt burns beneath their wheels and the sun beats down on their backs.

India’s gig workforce has seen explosive growth in recent years. As of 2020–21, the country had approximately 7.7 million gig workers, a number projected to rise dramatically to 23.5 million by 2029–30. This surge is closely tied to the proliferation of app-based platforms such as Swiggy, Zomato, Ola, and Uber, which offer flexible work opportunities, particularly to migrants from rural areas who come to cities in search of jobs that don’t require formal education or specialised training. For many, the gig economy is less a choice than a necessity, shaped by circumstance and survival.

However, the nature of this work is becoming increasingly unforgiving, especially in the face of intensifying climate extremes. A 2024 survey conducted by HeatWatch in collaboration with the Telangana Gig and Platform Workers Union (TGPWU) revealed that over 50% of surveyed workers reported suffering from heat exhaustion, and nearly 30% had experienced heat strokes. Despite these alarming health risks, most workers continue to endure long, physically demanding shifts, often without access to clean drinking water, shaded rest areas, or even the most basic safety gear like gloves or breathable clothing. Their resilience powers a city that rarely pauses to ask: at what cost?

From Sunrise to Midnight: The Gruelling Routine Behind Your Orders

The increasing vulnerability of Hyderabad’s gig workers calls for urgent interventions. As platform-based labour becomes a permanent fixture of India’s urban economy, ensuring climate resilience and labour protections will be essential, not just for workers’ dignity and survival, but for the long-term sustainability of the services they keep running.

A typical day for Hyderabad’s gig workers begins around 10 in the morning, but for many, it doesn’t end until well past 11 p.m., especially if they’re pushing for extra earnings. “We also like to work extra on weekends because of high orders,” says one delivery agent. The rush peaks on Friday and Saturday nights when customers place late-night orders for snacks and groceries. “On Friday nights, people drink and call for chakna from grocery stores. So, our weekend life is dead, but we make theirs,” he adds with a bittersweet chuckle. Their routine is dictated by surge pricing and unpredictable customer demand, leaving little room for rest, meals, or even shade from the blistering sun. The long hours on two-wheelers, often in tight uniforms and traffic-choked roads, stretch their physical endurance to the limit. 

Trapped by Responsibility, Not by Choice

For many of Hyderabad’s gig workers, braving the heat is not a matter of resilience; it’s a matter of survival. The pressure to keep working, even in peak summer, often stems from financial burdens and deep-rooted family responsibilities. “Yes, of course, I have to send money back to my house in Bihar,” one worker shares. “I have to tolerate the heat and work because I don’t have any formal education; this is my only option.” 

For many, their aspirations are put on hold to secure a better future for their children. “I want my kids to study, so I’m earning for them.” Even when asked if they would consider leaving the job due to the weather, the answer is layered with helplessness: “Who wouldn’t want a corporate job and sit in AC on a laptop? But I don’t have the skills for that. I’d like to switch, but switching means job hunting, and I don’t have the time. I have to keep sending money home.” Their choices are shaped not by desire, but by necessity, a balancing act between daily survival and long-term hope.

Burnt Skin, Empty Bottles, and No Breaks

The physical toll of working under a relentless sun is visible on the bodies of Hyderabad’s gig workers. By the end of the day, many are left dehydrated, sunburnt, and exhausted. “We get ulcers and heat boils,” one worker explains. “My whole body feels drained, my colour becomes dark, and my hair is coated in dust. Because of driving the bike for so long, the calluses on my palm keep peeling off—but I can’t afford a pair of gloves.” The basic gear needed to protect against the heat, like breathable uniforms, hand covers, or even drinking water, is often unaffordable or simply unavailable. 

When asked what could help, the answers are simple but telling: “If I could just get water breaks, if I had gloves, if I could eat from the places I deliver to—just joking... I don’t even know what can be done.” The resignation in their voices reflects how normalised this neglect has become, and how distant the idea of policy change feels from the day-to-day reality of surviving the city’s heat.

A Glass of Water and a Word of Thanks

What gig workers want, perhaps more than policy overhauls, is basic human decency. “Sometimes it’s so hot, but they yell at me to come fast. I’ll faint in this temperature if I go any faster,” one worker says. Their request is heartbreakingly simple: “At least give me a glass of water.” While they navigate traffic and temperatures, they’re often met with impatience or silence. “These people call for food from big buildings, but they don’t even say thank you, or offer water.” One recounts being forced to pay damages after a road accident with a car owner, just because he was the delivery guy. 

In a city that thrives on convenience, the dignity of those who keep it running is too often overlooked. A “thank you,” a tip, or even a pause to acknowledge their effort might not change the weather, but it could mean everything to the person enduring it.