NAVI MUMBAI, March 18 -- Each day for the past week, Ashwini Koli, 25, has stood in a 4 am queue in Turbhe MIDC, watching the sun rise over industrial chimneys. By noon, she returns to her cramped tenement with the same result: an empty hand and a cold stove. "For three days, the gas hasn't been lit in our home," said Koli, a migrant from Karnataka. "There is no space for a wood stove-the house will catch fire. We are caught between a factory cutting our shifts and a kitchen that has ceased to function." Koli is part of a massive industrial ecosystem staring at a dual crisis of employment and starvation. What began as a distant geopolitical tremor in West Asia has cascaded into a systemic crisis across the Navi Mumbai-Panvel-Uran corridor. While manufacturers warn of an imminent 50% shutdown due to a "raw material vacuum", the first signs of collapse are appearing on the empty plates of one million dependents. Across the Taloja and Thane-Belapur belts-home to over 4,500 factories-a severe LPG shortage has shuttered canteens and eateries that feed over 500,000 workers. Nearly 80% of these facilities have closed as supply dries up and black-market prices surge. With LPG unavailable, some have turned to makeshift chulhas. Sanju Gautam, who secured a cylinder only after a gruelling four-day wait, was forced to cook on wood in the interim. "We stood in line for three days. It came on the fourth day, that too expensive," she said. Harendra Chauhan, 52, a resident of Pawane for 15 years, has taken his struggle to the streets. "I'm cooking on wood outside as there is no space here," he said, gesturing to the open-air makeshift stove he has been forced to use. "I stood in line for two days and still didn't get gas. I have never faced such a problem before. Hotels are also cooking with wood now, and a meal that costs Rs.70 now costs Rs.150." For many, even the fallback to wood is impossible. In Turbhe MIDC, Maharaja Pillai, 29, faces a nightmare of opportunism: "In the black market, an LPG cylinder costs Rs.3,000 to Rs.4,000; they sell to restaurants for Rs.10,000. Should I go to work or get gas? For four days, I've taken leave and still haven't got it." Inside labour clusters, the food system has evaporated. "The canteen has been shut for four days," said Manoj Kumar, 28. "Sometimes, tea and biscuits.sometimes nothing." With shrinking incomes, survival is becoming unaffordable. Anita Sahu, 29, a migrant from Unnao, said, "Even vada pav is Rs.20-how will children survive? What will we eat and what will we save?" Fifty-year-old Arti Pawar from Karad noted the physical constraints: "There are 200 people in line. Where will we cook on wood? There is a gutter nearby-where are we supposed to make it?" The crisis has deepened during the holy month of Ramzan, when Muslims abstain from food and drink from dawn to sunset. "For four days we have been trying-no gas. It is Ramzan, and we are suffering," said Suraiya Khan, 51, a resident of Pawane. "There is no wood, no space, and even hotels are shut. Where will our children go?" Reena Gautam, 38, a resident of Turbhe, added, "Will a man take leave for four days? From where will we cook and eat?" Local vendors like Shabir Shaikh, 45, are also struggling: "Gas is unavailable regularly. Some days we cannot open at all." Even as the gas shortage plays out on the ground, the Maharashtra government has denied any supply crunch. Food and civil supplies minister Chhagan Bhujbal told the legislative assembly on Tuesday that there is no shortage of LPG in Maharashtra and that stocks of petrol and diesel remain adequate. He added that the government is taking steps to curb black-marketing of essential commodities. Despite the state government's assurances, the residents of Navi Mumbai's industrial hubs are contemplating whether they can continue living in a city that can no longer sustain them. Sunil Paswan, 26, who hails from Gaya in Bihar, expressed the growing consensus: "We came here to work, not stay hungry. If this continues, we go home." Maharaja Pillai, 26, echoed the warning: "If this isn't solved, we will definitely go back to our village. What is the point of staying here? The stove is lit there, too, so we will go there and light the stove." As a distant war tightens its grip, Navi Mumbai's workforce is caught between shrinking work and vanishing meals....