India, April 6 -- For over a month now, the city has been witnessing a silent crisis unfold, one that does not reflect in official records but is deeply visible in kitchens that no longer have a flame. The district administration maintains there is no shortage of LPG. Supply, officials insist, is adequate. On the ground, however, what I found is not a supply issue but an access crisis. Those with formal gas connections are still managing. Deliveries are delayed, but they continue. The worst hit are those who were never part of the formal system: daily wage workers, slum residents, and domestic help who depended on small 2-kg cylinders or informal refilling points tucked inside narrow lanes. That entire ecosystem has collapsed. With stricter enforcement and a crackdown on black marketing, these unregulated refill points have disappeared almost overnight. For thousands, they were the only source of cooking fuel. "We don't have documents for a connection. We used to refill small cylinders from nearby shops. Now everything is shut. There is nowhere to go," said Sunita, a domestic worker, looking at her unused stove. The disruption extends beyond households. In older sectors and village clusters, small refill shops that once sustained local economies now stand shut. "We had a daily income from refilling cylinders. Now there is nothing. We are just sitting the whole day," said Ramesh Mandal, who ran a refill point in a village cluster near the city. "We understand the rules, but what about our livelihood?" As both supply chains and livelihoods break down, desperation is growing. Many families attempted to shift to induction cooktops, but a sudden spike in demand has led to shortages. "We went shop to shop, but there was no induction available. Even if it was, we cannot always afford electricity," said Rafiq Khan, a construction worker. With few options left, families are returning to traditional methods. In cramped homes, I saw women cooking on makeshift chulhas using firewood and waste. "It takes hours now. The children cough because of the smoke. But what choice do we have?" said Meena Devi. The ripple effects are visible across the city. Domestic workers are borrowing cylinders from employers, while some have left for their villages. "My househelp said she cannot survive like this. She packed her bags and left," said a resident in DLF Phase 2. At the same time, formal connections, once overlooked, have become essential. There is a rush to apply for LPG connections or shift to PNG pipelines, but documentation and cost remain barriers. "Everyone is asking about PNG now. But how will people in jhuggis get it?" said a local volunteer. The administration continues to deny any shortage. What I observed points to a deeper divide between those who can access fuel and those who cannot. A city of glass towers and global ambitions, kitchens on one side run smoothly, while on the other, fires struggle to stay lit....