Dilawar Khan -

dundasa-seller

ilawar Khan, a sprightly sixty-year-old, owns a quaint stall in a bustling bazaar, where he vends a unique commodity - walnut bark strips, (dundasay in local terminology). These traditional strips, renowned for their teeth-cleaning properties, are said to be a substitute for conventional tooth-paste and brushes, promising exceptionally white teeth. Dilawar Khan’s presence in the market is not just about selling goods; a blend of wit, humour and camaraderie sets him apart from the rest.

Residing in close proximity to Jhatpath Market, Dilawar Khan shares his home with his wife, two married sons and their families. His three married daughters have carved out their lives in different corners of the city. His family setting provides him with a sense of fulfilment as he goes about his distinctive trade.

Reflecting on his journey, Dilawar Khan reminisces about his arrival in a new city at the age of twenty, having migrated from his village of Khui Bahara in Dera Ismail Khan. His early years in the city saw him engage in physically demanding occupations, from labourer to bus conductor. With a grin he says that selling dundasay has proven to be a more comfortable endeavour compared to his previous physically challenging jobs.

His large assortment of dundasay, sourced from a nearby wholesale market, includes narrow strips priced at Rs 1,000 per kilo and broader ones at Rs 1,200 per kilo. Despite the modest financial returns, Dilawar Khan is satisfied with the steady demand for his product. He exudes contentment, attributing the ease of his current occupation to its comparative simplicity.

Dilawar Khan is more than just a vendor; he is an animated storyteller, persuading passers-by to invest in dundasay while regaling them with tales of its miraculous properties. His sales pitch is a blend of smiles, jokes and occasional bursts of song, creating an atmosphere that transcends the conventional marketplace transaction. The customers not only leave with a purchase but also with a memorable encounter with a man whose charisma transforms a simple deal into a vibrant exchange of anecdotes and laughter.

In a market often defined by the mundane, Dilawar Khan’s stall stands as a testament to the spirit of traditional practices and the charm of personal connection. Beyond the walnut bark strips, he offers a blend of warmth and entertainment that leaves an indelible mark on the lively canvas of Jhatpath Market.

Mazhar Husain -

road-digger

From dawn till dusk, Mazhar Husain engages in the demanding work of road digging, a laborious endeavour that sustains his livelihood. Operating between the hours of 8:00 am and 6:00 pm, he, along with fellow labourers, excavates trenches that serve as conduits for various utilities - gas, sewage, water pipes, storm drains and telephone cables.

He is employed by a contractor with whom Mazhar shares his roots, both hailing from Jalalpur Pirwala, a town situated approximately 90 kilometres from Multan. For the past eight years, he has called an open-to-sky living quarter near a water-pumping station, colloquially referred to as a “dera,” his home away from home.

Reflecting on his journey, Mazhar recalls venturing to this city at the tender age of fifteen, accompanying an uncle in search of opportunities. Over the years, he honed his skills on the job, becoming a seasoned road-digger by the age of twenty-three. He is married, with two children - a five-year old son and a two-year old daughter, but his family has yet to visit him from his hometown. The constraints of the dera, designed for single men, prevent him from bringing his family to the city, relegating him to visits to Jalalpur Pirwala every 6 to 8 months.

Compensated with a modest sum of Rs 500 at the end of each laborious day, Mazhar manages to send around Rs 7,000 monthly to support his family. In times past, meals for the labourers were provided by the contractor, but that practice has ceased. Consequently, securing three square meals constitutes Mazhar’s primary expense. Injuries and illness incurred on the job require financial attention, adding to the strain on his limited income. With little inclination or time to cook at the dera, Mazhar and his fellow labourers often opt to eat out. “There usually isn’t much inclination or time after work to cook meals at the dera, so my fellow labourers and I eat out,” he says. Occasionally, they take turns cooking, acknowledging the exhaustion that follows a day of strenuous road digging.

Amidst the challenges of his labour-intensive life, Mazhar finds solace in leisure moments with friends. He also savours moments of reprieve by reclining on his cot, allowing his fatigued body the rest it deserves. Mazhar’s narrative encapsulates the resilience of those toiling behind the scenes, whose contributions often go unnoticed in the urban chaos.

The writer is an author, illustrator and educator. She may be contacted at husain.rumana@gmail.com