Mumbai’s Lifeline Stalls: How A CNG Breakdown Brought The City’s Auto-Rickshaws To A Halt

By Tuesday morning, the familiar rattle of Mumbai’s auto-rickshaws had all but vanished. Junctions that usually echo with the rhythmic buzz of green-and-yellow three-wheelers now feel strangely hollow. The reason is buried beneath the city’s surface, a damaged gas pipeline in the RCF compound in Wadala that choked off the CNG supply powering the city’s most accessible mode of transport.

Sudhakar, who has been driving an auto-rickshaw in Mumbai for more than a decade and, like many drivers, supplements his income through platforms such as Uber and Rapido, says the CNG shortage has delivered a blow unlike anything he has seen. “We are running autos on petrol now, and that has drastically cut our earnings,” he explains, leaning against his rickshaw as he watches a queue snake outside a shuttered CNG pump. Switching to petrol is not just expensive; it rewrites the math on which the city’s auto economy survives. “Some autos are refusing to run on meters because the cost doesn’t make sense anymore. Petrol drains the pocket. How can we run long distances and still earn something at the end of the day?”

Across the street, Jagdish Nath, another long-time driver, recounts a day lost entirely to waiting. He says he stood by helplessly as CNG stations reported queues stretching two to three kilometres. “I didn’t drive for at least 12 hours,” he says. “What is the point of going on the road when the tank is almost empty and the pumps are dry?” Some drivers, Nath says, rode all the way to Thane in search of CNG, a desperate gamble for a few kilograms of fuel. “I don’t have that much time or energy. So I simply stayed off the road for hours.” Nath also said some of the gas stations in the city had displayed the sign 'No CNG'.

For both men and for thousands of others who depend on the humble three-wheeler for their livelihood the shortage isn’t just about fuel. It is about days with zero income, rising expenses, and the fear that tomorrow could be worse. Auto-rickshaw driving in Mumbai has always been a finely balanced trade: long hours, unpredictable rides, and slim margins. A disruption like this tilts that balance sharply, and the drivers can feel it with every passing hour.

Mumbai depends on its autos for everything: the last mile from a station, the mad dash to the office, the school run, the grocery sprint, the late-evening ride home. But after the pipeline feeding Mahanagar Gas Limited’s main station was ruptured, CNG pressure collapsed across the network. By Sunday night, drivers had begun deserting the roads. By Monday, the auto-rickshaw fleet, more than two lakh strong, had thinned so drastically that large parts of the city looked like they were under curfew.

Outside the few pumps still operational, long, unmoving queues of autos stretch for hours. Drivers sit inside their vehicles, resigned, half-asleep, half-anxious, waiting for a few kilograms of CNG that may or may not arrive before the pump shuts again. Many say they’ve spent more time queuing than earning in the last two days.

For commuters, the disappearance of autos has been immediate and brutal. At suburban railway stations, Dadar, Andheri, Ghatkopar, Kandivali, crowds spill onto the streets, waving helplessly at the rare auto that passes by. Some walk kilometres to work. Others squeeze into overcrowded buses or pay inflated fares to ride-hailing cabs, if they can find one at all. The absence of autos, the city’s informal but indispensable connective tissue, has slowed Mumbai’s pace to an uneasy crawl.

Auto unions estimate that more than 70 percent of the city’s autos remained off the road, with some pockets reporting near-total shutdown. The ripple effects are everywhere: schoolchildren waiting longer at pickup points, office-goers arriving late, elderly commuters stranded because their most affordable mobility option has vanished. The gas distributor says repairs are underway and promises restoration soon. But for now, the city runs on uncertainty. The heart of Mumbai’s street-level mobility, its auto-rickshaws, has sputtered to a stop, reminding the city just how fragile its daily rhythms can be when a single pipeline falters.