In these images of workers harvesting salt near Thoothukudi (Tuticorin), Shaju captures the striking beauty of monochromatic shapes and forms, dotted with bursts of colour, against what appears to be a vast, white frozen field. But the visuals hide the stark reality of the nature of this work. It may seem arresting in its beauty but, make no mistake, this is no Salar de Uyuni. Not for these everyday workspaces the magic of those Bolivian salt flats, as clear as reflective glass, in which people encounter surreal mirror images of themselves and the stunning landscape around them.

For the workers at these salt units on the Tamil Nadu coast, this is a tough life, with little relief by way of even the most basic personal protection against the corrosive effects of salt on their legs and arms, and on their health as a whole. Many workers suffer from skin conditions and dental problems, aside from anaemia and weakness of the muscular system. The workers get by with the most primitive of safety gear, usually some thick socks, but often just pieces of gunny sacking fastened with rope to their legs, as they run back and forth along the bunds of the salterns, the shallow areas where saline water from borewells is filled and dries out, forming the crystals.

India is the world’s third largest producer of salt, and the salt pans in the Thoothukudi region produce about a third of the country’s own salt requirements, with Gujarat accounting for the highest output, followed by Rajasthan, Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh and Odisha. About 80 per cent of salt producing units operate in the unorganised sector, employing labour in an activity that is seasonal, and is spread over six to eight months, usually between the monsoons. Sometimes, these workers get jobs as farm labour for the remaining months, though this is not guaranteed.

Studies by medical researchers show that many salt pan workers are affected by more serious health conditions. There is evidence of an increasing incidence of renal problems, brought on by severe dehydration over the long, 8-9 hour work-days, during which workers get just two brief comfort and food breaks. Carrying heavy loads of harvested crystals from saltern to storage point through the day, the workers are exposed to both blistering heat and the blinding whiteness of the salt crystal mounds. Over time, this and exposure to UV radiation affects their eye health. Protective spectacles are a must to save their vision, but only a few wear dark glasses.

A few owners of salt producing units care enough about the workers to provide them clean drinking water, personal protective clothing and rest-room facilities, but they are a small minority. Hit by the double whammy of climate impact and then the pandemic, most of them are preoccupied with their own concerns of diminishing profits in this century-old small industry – yet another activity of the unorganised sector that is struggling to stay afloat in difficult times.