
Imtiaz Dharker lives in Mumbai in India where, during the dry season, the temperature can reach 40 degrees. The poem is set in a vast area of temporary accommodation called Dharavi on the outskirts of Mumbai, where millions of migrants have gathered from other parts of India and there is always a shortage of water because it is not an official living area.
In an interview, the poet says:
But when a pipe bursts, when a water tanker goes past, there's always a little child running behind the water tanker getting the bits of drips and it's like money, it's like currency. In a hot country in that kind of climate, it's like a gift. And the children may have been brought up in the city and grown up as migrants, but the mothers will probably remember that in the village they came from, they would have to walk miles with pots to get to a well, to the closest water source. So it really is very precious. When the water comes, it's like a god.
Imtiaz Dharker