The phone rings in a one-room office in Navyug Mansion, located in the Grant Road area of south Bombay. Forty-nine-year-old Shivaji Sakaram Sawant, who has been delivering dabbas for the past 20 years, picks up the receiver. The caller is a customer concerned that her tiffin box had not been returned to her home the previous day. After a few questions, it turns out that Sawant knows not only the road on which her apartment complex is located, but also the number of her flat and the office where the tiffin is delivered every day. He assures her that the missing tiffin will be located and returned to her house by evening, along with the day's dabba. Perhaps it is the confident way in which Sawant speaks, or the fact that he knows the trajectory of an otherwise inconspicuous dabba, but the customer at the other end is clearly relieved. The parting tone is gracious and affable. Sawant then joins his colleagues, who have now arrived at the office – a pit-stop for dabbawallas delivering tiffins in this area – and starts having his lunch.
Sawant's deft handling of a customer in distress reflects why Bombay's century-old faith in its famed dabbawalla network has never been misplaced. It also explains why corporate India, which in the past has limited itself to picking up management tips from the dabbawallas' flawless delivery system and notable teamwork, is today moving to tap their extensive client base in order to advertise and sell their products.
About 5000 dabbawallas, each of whom deals with 35 to 40 customers, collectively deliver around two lakh tiffin boxes across Bombay every day. First, they collect tiffins cooked at the homes of customers or by caterers. Then, using a relay system – each dabba changes hands three or four times in the course of its journey – the dabbawallas deliver the lunchboxes to clients at their offices. After lunch, they pick up the tiffin boxes and return these to the customers' homes by evening, perhaps even before the clients themselves reach their living rooms. To identify dabbas and their destinations, the dabbawallas, many of whom are unschooled, employ a unique system of numbers and letters marked on the dabbas. These often baffle onlookers, but the dabbawallas insist that the system is simple and easily deciphered.
The tiffin carriers are so efficient that they have in recent years become something of an international phenomenon. Nearly a decade ago, the dabbawallas of Bombay earned a so-called Six Sigma certification from the US-based Forbes magazine, meaning that they had achieved an astounding accuracy rate of 99.999999 percent in their deliveries. They have been visited and feted by dignitaries such as the flamboyant magnate Richard Branson and Prince Charles, who also invited some dabbawallas to attend his wedding with Camilla Parker Bowles in December 2005. The tiffin carriers are regularly asked to deliver presentations across the world, including in many of India's top management institutes. The men in white caps and white kurtas or shirts – the instantly recognisable dabbawalla uniform – have also been the subject of several flattering reports in the national and international media. An article published in the Financial Times in May 2007 said that neither "the rickety state of Mumbai's infrastructure" nor the "catastrophic" monsoon rains "fazes the dabbawallas". Considering this celebrity status, it was just a matter of time before India's corporates started eyeing dabbas as a platform for product placement.