Chachaji

Hukam Chand was the son of Hakim Jairamdass of our village Vahalee. Hukam Chand had seen forty summers and yet had not been able to take any work or profession. He had learnt hikmat (medicine) quite well but there was no scope for a second hakim in the village. What was more, it appeared certain that as long as his father was living, there was no question of anyone going to Hukam Chand or having faith in him. His father actually lived for over 100 years. He was an extremely efficient hakim and people from the whole illaqa (area) roundabout used to come to him for treatment of all sorts of diseases and he was really gifted with a hand of cure. He was so famous that even in the last days of his life, he was carried in palki to far off distances of 10-15 miles for treating the patients who could not be moved.

Hukam Chand’s anxiety grew day by day, and at last he took courage and made up his mind to change the ancestral profession and set up a shop. There was no shop in the village before and people used to trek 13 miles to Pind Dadan Khan for the purchases of necessities of life and that also once in 3 or 4 months. Generally one man from the village would probably bring articles and provisions for nearly 1/3rd of the village people — for the brothers and cousins and other relatives, near and far, and all the neighbours and friends. Ours was quite a big and well-to-do village in that area. It had a population of about 1000 persons although only about 50% were always present in the village, mainly women, children and the old. The youngmen were mostly away in connection with military service, a few in business to earn their livelihood. The population in the neighbouring villages varied between 100 to 1000 but in respect of adult males their condition was even worse.

Very soon Hukam Chand developed into a successful shopkeeper and became known in the nearby villages. He, being the only shopkeeper in an area of many miles, naturally was the cloth merchant, shoe merchant, grocer, sweet seller, dealer in dry fruits, medicines, spices, cereals, stationery, toys and all other possible articles of utility for many of which there might be a customer once or twice in a year. The only things which he was not selling were wheat and cotton.

These things he received everyday because there was hardly any customer who paid him in cash. Everyone brought almost the desired quantity of wheat or cotton for exchange. And Hukam Chand had such a knack in weighing the large quantities in the trakri (scale) that he would dispose of the customer in a matter of minutes during which he would not only weigh the customer’s produce but also weigh and give to the customer the desired quantity and quality of the commodity in exchange. There was an amazing harmony between them — no row, no bargaining, no enquiry about the exchange rate or proportions and of course no doubt or apprehension. The remarkable thing was that the purchaser would bring the exact quantity of wheat or cotton without measure or weight and the seller would give the quantity of the commodity which was perhaps exactly that which was needed by the customer and thus the latter was satisfied.

His other customers were mainly of two types. Firstly, they were the well-to-do peasants from all the villages of the illaqa who would come and always greet Hukam Chand very politely and ask for all sorts of requirements, and go away wishing Hukam Chand a hearty good-bye. They never asked Hukam Chand about prices, accounts and such things. What is more they never paid when they would make these frequent purchases. Hukam Chand, at the end of the day or whenever he got time, would note the amount in his books against such persons — remarkable memory and trust! These people would pay and clear their accounts twice in a year — after the harvest season — not by paying cash but in agricultural products.

The second type were almost all Mohammaden women of the villages. Generally their husbands were in military service and remained away from their villages in remote parts of not only India, but far off countries also. There were also some Hindu women whose husbands had gone out to distant places for business. All these women had easy credit, without question, and they would get all their requirements from day to day and when their husbands came back on leave or from business, which was always after a year or two or even more, they would ask Hukam Chand about the total amount and promptly pay that off. This was what he would generally get in cash. They would always express their gratitude to Hukam Chand for taking care of the needs of their families in their absence.

For about 2 or 3 months in a year, Hukam Chand’s shop was closed and all his clients and customers patiently waited for its reopening. The village economy in those days was so simple and remarkably practical that, for example, Hukam Chand’s customers did not have any needs as long as the shop of their sahukar was closed. Hukam Chand, however, did not have holidays or vacations for these 2 or 3 months. He had in fact an arduous task to do. It was not purely for his shopkeeping, business or benefit, but it was also for the love and service to his village people and the people of the neighbouring villages. He had to go as far as Amritsar, which was the mandi or the wholesale market to bring all the possible requirements of his clients for the whole of the year.

He had, of course, to use Ghulam Hussein’s mare to go up to the Khewra Railway Station and after changing at different Junctions like Malakwal, Lalamusa, Wazirabad and Lahore, he would reach Amritsar by train after a week or ten days, and it took him a month or 45 days to make all the numerous purchases. He collected them and brought them by rail up to Khewra. He would then transport them to the village by mules and camels. This whole process involved 2 to 3 months and thus he had to be away from his village, family and business for this period.

The news of Hukam Chand’s impending annual departure would spread in all the ‘affected’ villages a month or so before he was to leave. The news always created something like a stir. In this intervening period Hukam Chand’s shop became a veritable pilgrimage centre to which the people from various villages trekked in scores. This was indeed a very hectic period for Hukam Chand whose position would become similar to that of Santa Claus, from whom children expect all kinds of gifts and requirements. He had to write out many sheets of paper to note the various requirements of his customers. Yet he knew what and whose requirements to note and this he did by a mere glance at the face. He knew, for example, how far Jahano’s need for a pair of jute hand-fans with coloured handle and glass pieces set-in (sheeshe wali rangli pakhian da jora) was geniune, Patoli’s demand for the laced coloured sandals was worth the while, Kazam’s requirement of chhabe wala kullah was pressing or Nathu Chacha’s ‘thirst’ for a bottle of annar da sharbat needed to be quenched. As the day of Hukam Chand’s departure neared, correspondingly the rush of his customers and the number of their requirements multiplied. There was the mother with her young son reminding Hukam Chand about the Urdu text book, the young farmer who pleaded with him not to forget to bring him a pair of Peshawari chappals, the beautiful maiden, the zamindar’s daughter, shyly pointing out to him to bring her the singar bux, the ex-soldier telling him that he could get the khaki pair of slacks for him from the Kabari Bazar, the zaildar impressing upon him the urgency of his need for a thaan of voil which he wanted to present to the thanedar on the latter’s forthcoming visit to the village, the village tailor taking pains to make him remember the DCM brand of the thread balls and reels, the Shahni, wife of the Shaha of the village, giving him a piece of blue shneel, a thaan of which she wanted for her daughter’s dowry, the granthi (priest) of the gurdwara giving him the size of the brass paraat (tray) for karah pershad, the peasant girl explaining to him the various colours of chhabi di chuni that she wanted for the coming Id- ul-Fitter and the village boys pestering Chacha Hukam Chand to bring them mithian rung brangi gollian (coloured sweets).

It is easier to imagine than to describe the actual departure of Hukam Chand. With him he took the longings, expectations and hopes of his customers, leaving them behind to speculate about his return. Everyone asked him to come back soon but not without his particular requirement. No doubt his function was nothing but to execute the orders of his customers yet no one ever placed orders with him or for that matter he never took any orders. He was a businessman, of course, but with a difference. He was looked upon as the supplier of all things, an elder member of family, a friend in need, and above all a benefactor. Hence, he was the receipient of affection and respect.

And then at long last would come the day of the ‘return of the prodigal’. While the news of his departure from the village created a stir, the news of his return would produce a high degree of excitement. During the few days preceding his return he would become the talk of the village.

And one fine morning the village people would wake up to find Hukam Chand back amidst them. That was the signal for an almost endless trekking to his shop. Everyone greeted him cheerfully and respectfully, the greeters’ eyes always flashing through their gleams their excitement and expectations. His shop was packed with many paitties, trunks and gathris which were looked upon with curiosity by all those who gathered there. In them lay wrapped or shut up bundles of hopes and expectations of the so many of Hukam Chand’s customers.

Now began perhaps the most interesting phase of Hukam Chand’s shopkeeping. Here one would see in Hukam Chand the subtle and deft businessman, the wise man, the man of many parts. The way he tackled his numerous customers, satisfied their needs, with wares or words would make many of our highly trained sales executives and salesmen pale with blush. His shop in those days, was nothing short of the famed supermarket of New York — world’s largest shopping centre under one roof. Here, the whole village populations were getting their requirements, ranging from sewing needles to grass cutters, from bangles to boot brushes, boski and what not, not only under one roof but in one showroom and from one salesman, who was the business executive, the accountant, the cashier, the salesman, all rolled into one. His customers did not come one by one; there were scores of them. All coming simultaneously and all needing different things. Yet Hukam Chand, unaided, unnerved, cheerfully and single-handedly attended everyone of them and what is more would satisfy almost all of them.

I often made it a point to be present on such an occasion, whenever I was in the village. It was indeed a spectacle, a treat to watch the jostling, excited village men and women crowding around Hukam Chand, who like a grand Moghul sat on his gaddi distributing favours, smiles and sometimes sallies also. The most remarkable thing, however, was Hukam Chand’s wonderful skill which he deftly employed in disposing of the customers who did not find in Hukam Chand’s large kit their particular requirements. Thus said the rich moneylender’s wife Bharai, “Hukam Chand, what happened to my boski?” and to which Hukam Chand spontaneously replied, “Bhabi, I knew that you wanted boski for your son-in-law, who being a rich father’s son, I was sure, would not touch any other but the do ghorian wali boski. But due to the laam (war) it was not available and I didn’t like to bring phattian wali (striped) boski for you.” That elated Bharai’s pride sufficiently to satisfy her. When Ameero felt greatly upset on not seeing the narma suit, Hukam Chand quickly consoled her by telling her “Ameeroji, I was told by the people in the trade that narma was nowadays worn by kumahrans and knowning well as I do that you are the Bibi of our Rajaji, I didn’t think it desirable to bring that stuff.” But to Rajo’s daughter’s refusal to take the blue bangles of glass, Hukam Chand immediately took out another packet which contained her favourite red bangles. Similarly when Sudhi asked Hukam Chand about the pepper, mishri, khopa and patase, which she needed in connection with the feast on the occasion of her daughter’s marriage, Hukam Chand gave her not only these but also riorian and phulian saying “this you will need for distributing to gumashtas of Shahji.”

It was, however, not an easy task for Hukam Chand. He had to more than often pour water on heart burnings. Thus there was Chachi Eashro who indignantly remarked “Wai Hukam Chanda, what will your Chacha wear when he goes to Tehsildar’s court now that you have neither brought lattha nor mulmul for his turban?” Hukam Chand had to summon up all the tricks of the trade to calm down the elderly Chachi whose capacity for payment was at the lowest, which Hukam Chand knew only too well. He clinched the issue by saying “O, Chachi, nowadays a lot of thhagi (fraud) has crept into the business. You know that there used to be only one quality of muslin but now when I went into the mandi, beoparis (businessmen) threw before me a number of varieties, solwhin di mulmul, F74 di mulmul, panj daryawam di mulmul and so on. It became difficult for me to choose as to which was the better or at least the proper and their prices made the confusion only worse. When I wasn’t sure about the stuff or the price myself how could I bring it for one who is our jagat chachi (universal aunt).” While it did not quite satisfy the Chachi yet it had brought down her temperature to a reasonably low degree and she said, “But the next time when you go, you bring the one which is selling the most. That will be the right one.”

Hukam Chand’s explanations were like the parched grams on which was sprinkled massalah of logic, wit and wisdom. Thus when Jahano asked Hukam Chand about the mehndi, which he had really forgotten to bring even though it was one of the more commonly used items, he paused and in a tone which reflected his regret over the lapse said, “Your daughter is to get married only during the next phaggan before which month I have to make another trip. Now I knew this and felt that you would need that only in the coming phaggan, so why bring it now? You see, Jahanan Bibi, these girls have the inborn desire to colour their hands yellow with mehndi and if I had brought it, your daughters would have finished that long before phaggan and then you would have needed more.”

But it was not smooth sailing all the time and then there was Raja Ghulam Hussein of the ‘Ghulam Hussein-di-ghori’ fame, who not unoften had the last say. He had asked Hukam Chand to bring him a new kaathi (saddle) for his ghori (mare). So he came to Hukam Chand and enquired about the saddle. Hukam Chand, as usual, had a ready excuse - “Rajaji, for your kaathi I went not only to Amritsar but to Rawalpindi also where there is a karkhana (factory). I went there because I didn’t see any kaathi in the Amritsar market. But the factory people told me that because of the laam (war) Government was buying all their product with the result that their price for the private customer was very high, double the amount for which you bought it last time. I knew this was too much for Rajaji...” But ‘Raja’ Ghulam Hussein interrupted “O ho! What difference did that make to me, assan kehre paisse daine sun (after all I wasn’t going to pay anything).”

This time when the excitement abated and Hukam Chand got some respite, I approached him and asked him, “How is it that for some you bring even more and of larger variety than they require while others’ requirements you either forget or don’t get the stuff.” “Kakaji, you are still very young. This is beopar. I give words to those who pay me only in words while those who pay me cash get the grams”, was yet another characteristic explanation of the inimitable Hukam Chand.