At the end of their workdays, after they have pulled their wooden carts for hours through the narrow lanes of New Delhi’s spice market, the exhausted men stop at little sidewalk stalls for something to eat, often a few handfuls of rice with some gravy on top.

Then, many of them maneuver their carts into some quiet piece of pavement. It might be along an empty stretch of road, or in front of a shop closed for the night. That is where they sleep, spreading out their thin blankets on the carts they have pushed all day.

The next morning the cycle begins again, as it has for centuries.

The market is called Khari Baoli. An institution since the 17th century, Khari Baoli claims to be the largest outdoor wholesale spice market in Asia, with thousands of shops operating in the maze of roads so small and crowded that trucks cannot get in during the day.

But, these men will tell you, the trucks don’t need to get in. They are the “thela wallahs,” the thousands of cart men who push and pull and steer thousands of tons of spices and other dried food every day through the market. They take it from trucks to warehouses, from warehouses to stores, and from one store to another.

The lowliest — the two or three assistants who help each cart man — earn as little as Rs 50 for a long day of work. Those who manage to buy their own carts can make more than 10 times that much.

A heavy load can weigh more than 300 kilograms, with boxes and sacks sometimes piled high overhead with spices, herbs, nuts, rice and tea. Pay for each load depends on the weight and the distance.

Most of the men are freelancers, working for whoever will pay for their next load, though the largest of the trading houses keep thela wallahs on the payroll. Many of the thela wallahs sleep in front of warehouses, hoping to pick up additional work when trucks arrive during the night.

Most of the men come from the poorest of India’s hinterlands, villages where even Rs 50 a day can look like good money.

Sometimes, the days can seem to last forever, with some pulling their carts for as many as 25 kilometers. Maybe farther. By evening, many are desperate for a shot or two of cheap liquor to ease their aches.

But they are back at it again the next morning, working until they've saved enough to head home for a few months to see their families. And when the money runs out, they come back again to Khari Baoli.