Chachaji

I am talking of the years between 1914 and 1918, during the period of the First World War. In our village there were only 3 or 4 persons who maintained horses (none of whom, however, kept more than one horse) which carried villagers or their luggage to and from the Railway Station at Khewra (Salt Mines) situated 11 miles away. During the earlier times, people seldom left their villages except for the nearby or interior villages in the hills in order to visit their kith and kin and to leave at or bring from their parents-in-law’s homes their wives and daughters as the wives always spent some months there every year. The other purpose for which they ventured out of the villages was trading operations, which were on a barter basis. Surely at least 99% of the villagers had not seen the railway. However, it was at the turn of the century that some of the better off Hindus started sending their sons for post-primary education to schools at Chakwal, Pind Dadan Khan and Bhera. These Tehsil towns were approachable by bridle paths on which only horses or mules could traverse.

As years rolled by, some of the students started going to Lahore for college education and it was only then that they chanced to travel by railway train from Khewra. On these occasions, they perforce had to hire a horse or a mule on account of the luggage they had to carry with them. But the biggest moment came in 1914 when many were blessed with the opportunity to see the railway train owing to the First World War, which saw the enlistment of almost every able-bodied youth of our village in the armed forces. Many secured high positions without the knowledge of even the three R’s and the foremost among them was of course Sher Mohammad Khan, who retired as a full Major. He spent the evenings of his retired life surrounded by a number of people, who sat around him listening to his ‘heroic’ tales with great admiration and whenever asked as to what he was doing in the army, he replied with all the dignity of a King’s Commissioned Officer that he kept ‘displang’ in the army.

A memorable and undoubtedly the most interesting character of our village was Ghulam Hussein who kept a horse. He was popularly known as Raja Ghulam Hussein, in the same way as Raja Ghaznafar Ali Khan, the ex-High Commissioner of Pakistan in India, is known. He belonged to the neighbouring village of Saloi, about 2 miles from Vahalee, though he had settled in our Tehsil town, Pind Dadan Khan. Like all Rajas, Ghulam Hussein also maintained a turrah (turban) as a sign of being a khandani man (nobleman) because the magnitude of one’s dignity was measured by the height of the turrah.

The exigencies of the war had created a great demand for the services of the few village horses which were always booked in advance. Ghulam Hussein’s horse, however, was always available despite this boom. What was more, Ghulam Hussein also offered concessions and other amenities, including the carrying of small odd items of luggage on his own back which could not be accommodated on the horse’s. He also served free entertainment en route by regaling the passengers with stories, amusing anecdotes and jokes.

As chance would have it, once a situation arose when my people had to fall back upon Ghulam Hussein’s mare of all the creatures on earth, for my transportation to Khewra Railway Station from where I was to board the train to Lahore for my studies there. So we went to Ghulam Hussein’s place at night and my uncle asked Ghulam Hussein:-

My Uncle: Ghulam Hussein, is your mare living?

Ghulam Hussein: If she was not living what else could have brought you, by God’s Grace, to my house?

My Uncle: Not taken advance fare from anyone?

Ghulam Hussein: Many were offering to book the mare in advance but I knew that you would be requiring my beast and hence I did not say yes to anyone of them.

My Uncle: Well, then you will take Kakaji [myself] to the station tomorrow morning.

Ghulam Hussein: With pleasure, with pleasure. And why not? After all whose khadam (servant) am I?

My Uncle: The mare can walk, I hope?

Ghulam Hussein: Why not? You only need to mount it and it will go off like a deer.

My Uncle: I hope it is not frisky or vicious?

Ghulam Hussein: Surely not. It is a very moderate and good natured mare. The poor thing can scarcely walk, hence how on earth can she make any mischief?

My Uncle: No back-sores, I hope!

Ghulam Hussein: Why worry about back-sores. After all you will sit on the saddle and not on the mare itself.

My Uncle: The saddle-strap is in good condition, Rajaji?

Ghulam Hussein: It is perfectly in order. I got it mended only yesterday.

My Uncle: And if it gave way en route?

Ghulam Hussein: Oh, I am not a worn-out weakling. So what if it gives way, I will manage with a rope.

My Uncle: But if there was a mishap and one fell from her and broke a bone or strained a muscle, then?

Ghulam Hussein: Then what? After all you are not going to fall from Heaven! You just fall on one side and at the most that side strikes against a stone and is slightly hurt. And what is that? When you reach home you have just a few days’ fomentation and the same is all right.

My Uncle: The reins are there I suppose!

Ghulam Hussein: But where is the need of reins? If the mare is going to get along she will do so of her own accord. But if she does not, what will I be there for? I will go on dragging her with a rope.

For one thing this dialogue held out the prospect of an interesting journey, especially when I recollected some other anecdotes of Ghulam Hussein, which I had heard from various people. For example, on one occasion, a college student using Ghulam Hussein’s mare told him, “If I don’t catch the train I will be late and miss my lessons.” To this Ghulam Hussein retorted, “So what? Surely the world is not going to end if you don’t get educated. After all our elders and prophets never received any such education. And then am I educated? And for that matter do I not earn and enjoy life? Look at us, we eat well and enjoy life. I am sure you will be better off if you are not educated.”

On another occasion an army officer pleaded that he would be dismissed from service and lose his livelihood if he did not report in time for his duty. But Ghulam Hussein comforted him saying, “All the more good. If you lose the job, you would be able to return to your home and live with your wife and children in ease and without care. And what is more, you will no more be a nomad destined to rot from country to country.”

All this did not deter us and we fixed up with Ghulam Hussein and the next morning I started the journey. But hardly had we covered a distance of 4 to 5 miles when the mare suddenly stopped and promptly squatted. It did so with such spontaneity and ease that I did not even receive as much as a simple jerk. I dismounted.

The time was then 7.00 a.m. and the train’s scheduled time of departure from Khewra Railway Station was 10.00 a.m. But Ghulam Hussein’s mare refused to budge even up to 12 noon. All efforts to coax the animal including whipping were of no avail. We were both extremely tired. The passers-by extended their assistance in our task, but the mare did not oblige. People in the villages around knew only too well the whimsicalities of Ghulam Hussein’s mare and one of them who was present started:

Villager: What on earth has happened again today, Rajaji?

Ghulam Hussein: What should I say, my friend. I don’t know what evil spirit is dwelling here that as soon as my mare reaches this spot, it relapses into this plight. But the previous month passed without any untoward incident. (Perhaps he did not get any customer!!)

Villager: Is this mare your own?

Ghulam Hussein: If not mine then whose? Did you give her to me?

Villager: When was it that you killed your last mare?

Ghulam Hussein: Well, you don’t expect me to remember the date, but it is some months ago.

Villager: But we didn’t see her here?

Ghulam Hussein: How could you have seen her? That one died just near our village. By Allah’s Grace, for that I wasn’t put to much botheration. But now, it indeed is a problem to carry this luggage from here back to our village. We are already tired and exhausted.

Villager: How much did you pay for this mare?

Ghulam Hussein: Fifteen rupees in hard cash. The previous one I had bought for thirteen but the damned thing didn’t last as many days even.

Villager: By the way, during your life how many mares have you killed so far?

Ghulam Hussein: May be 10 or 15. What? Do you think I have killed a hundred?

Villager: What happened to the one you bought for seven rupees last time?

Ghulam Hussein: Oh! That indeed had proved the best of my bargains. That one really fetched me the highest income of all my mares.

Villager: Rajaji, you surely have lost a good deal during all these years of your life.

Ghulam Hussein: Oh! Yes. Just do not ask that. I am ruined and robbed of all that I had. I have purchased hundreds of mares and lost thousands of rupees.

Villager: But Rajaji, where on earth did you get all this wealth from?

Ghulam Hussein: Well, we earn by our sweat. It is not a joke! For instance, doesn’t my Begum Sahiba grind everyday?

Villager: Agreed, agreed Rajaji. Now please do come along with us and try some pot luck — rukhi sinni — or whatever food we have today.

Ghulam Hussein: No thanks. Why should I eat rukhi sinni? I am not on this earth for a mourning. And moreover, what will happen to this food of Kakaji which I have carried on my head all this way — these paranthas kneaded in milk and fried in pure ghee and the deliciously cooked potatoes?

Thereafter we took out the food and started eating and finished all that was meant for two days on the train.

Having finished the food I asked Rajaji, “Shall we go back?”

Rajaji: “By all means. But just a minute, let me kill the mare first.” And so saying, he picked up a big stone to kill the mare. I grappled with Rajaji and remonstrated with him to spare the animal. But to all my pleadings he said, “If anyone takes away the mare, who will be responsible? I will be put to a serious loss.”

On my gently persuading him, he agreed to leave the ghori (mare) there. But shrewd man that he was, he saw to it that the mare was tethered to a tree with a long rope, so that she did not wander away and get lost in case the adamant animal made up her mind to give up this ‘sit down strike’ sometime during the night.

Ghulam Hussein lifted up my trunk and bedding roll and placing them on his head began to march towards the village. I followed him carrying the smaller articles. We reached our village late in the evening.

The event of course did not surprise the villagers. It only provoked mirthful laughter and we had one more to add to the stock of Ghulam Hussein’s stories. I related this to the great merriment of the villagers.

This delay, however, did not come in the way of my joining the school in time, as, anticipating such happenings as normal events with Ghulam Hussein’s mare, I had kept time in reserve.

It appeared that the only alternative I had now was to trek the distance to the Railway Station on foot. My uncle, therefore, decided upon engaging a coolie to carry my luggage for a wage of 12 annas.

The next morning, however, Ghulam Hussein greeted us with a countenance of extreme remorse and most sympathetically, as if to make amends, offered to carry the luggage on his head and said that his pride would be wounded if he did not make good the 12 annas paid to him in advance for the trip. Further, if by that time his mare ‘Allah-Shalla’ decided to stand on her legs I could ride her on the way and in that case another four annas be paid to him. To this we agreed. We also made Ghulam Hussein agree that in case the mare continued to squat, he would not make another attempt to kill her. His prompt reply was “Why should I destroy my own wealth if that behaved properly and came home with me?”

I commenced my journey again. When we reached the spot where we had left ‘Allah-Shalla’ the previous day, we were greeted by a hale and hearty mare to whom a full day’s rest and free grazing had done tremendous good. Ghulam Hussein raised his hands heavenwards, mumbled a prayer and then busied himself in loading the luggage on the back of the mare. I mounted the mare and headed towards the station.

But lo! She had hardly trekked a mile when the mare decided to do her trick again and squatted on the path with a studied look and determined face. As I dismounted the ghori my agitation mounted.

Finding that the time at my disposal to catch the day’s train was short, I asked Ghulam Hussein to carry my luggage and walk towards the Railway Station. He swiftly did that and we reached the Railway Station. But alas! the train had left 15 minutes earlier.

This meant that I had to spend the whole day and the night at the Railway Station in order to catch the next train on the following morning. However, I would reach the school in time as we had still kept a margin of one more day — thanks to Ghulam Hussein’s ghori.

At the Railway Station, as if to add insult to injury, our friend Rajaji demanded four annas. I naturally refused to oblige him. But to my great annoyance, he began a heated argument saying that he had given the mare on hire and it was certainly not his look-out if the ghori did not move at times. The animal, he said with emphasis, had walked for two days and added that he had never guaranteed the time and as a matter of fact time was not the essence of this contract. And, he concluded by saying “By Allah, I say, I was asked to bring you to the Railway Station and I have done my part of the duty. I had nothing to do with the train or the time.”

There was no alternative but to submit. Hence, reluctantly I paid four annas. Rajaji beamed with joy. I asked him to convey to my people at home that I had reached the Station. This he cheerfully agreed to do provided of course he got back to the village in the near future. He said, he might be compelled to kill ‘Allah-Shalla’ if she insisted on squatting again and in that case he could not think of facing the village without another horse as otherwise his shaan (prestige) would suffer. “I belong to a respectable family and what will be my izzat (dignity) without a horse.”

[I have no idea as to what happened thereafter because ever since I have been away from my village with my father who was in Government service. I am sure, Madan Gopal and Khushdev Singh who were there for long must have had more intimate experiences. Perhaps of all my brothers, Rai Sahib Captain Sardar Kirpa Ram, Army Contractor of ‘Indiawide’ fame, must have had by far maximum number of opportunities to use Ghulam Hussein’s ghori because he had had a long academic career, extending to M.A., L.L.B., to be gone through, while still living in Vahalee].