Siraj Ahmad,

flower-seller

iraj Ahmad is a chatty old man who sells flowers. He is stationed on a makeshift platform near a busy footpath. Picture him there, legs playfully dangling, adorned in a skullcap crocheted from delicate white cotton thread and a broad-striped shirt unbuttoned at the neck, draping over a gray shalwar. What sets Siraj Ahmad apart is not just his floral expertise – it’s his penchant for conversing in English, a delightful quirk that adds a dash of charisma to his daily flower affair.

Hailing from the town of Ghari Yasin in Shikarpur district of Sindh, Siraj Ahmad, with a sparkle in his eye, proudly proclaims, “I completed my matric there.” His journey through life unfolds in the petals of time, each chapter imbued with a unique fragrance. “I’ve been selling flowers for twenty-five years now. Before that, I had my share of other adventures,” he confides.

In 1967, after a successful diploma stint in Lahore, Siraj Ahmad embarked on an electrifying journey as an electrician at the Mangla Dam Power House. A trailblazer from Sindh, he illuminated the power house until 1971, after which he found himself amidst the humming turbines of the Guddu Thermal Power Station until 1979. His tale weaves through the industrial landscape, encompassing roles as a compressor operator at the People’s Steel Mill in Javedan Nagar, Manghopir, Karachi, and a stint as a bus conductor on a two-year contract. Yet, destiny took a fragrant turn, leading him to the world of flowers, where he has thrived for a splendid quarter of a century.

An incessant smoker, he makes garlands, bouquets, gajras and baskets adorned with fragrant treasures like gulab (roses), motia (jasmine), gainda (marigold) and more. With nimble fingers, he weaves magic, a daily ritual that harmonises seamlessly with his age and health.

The city’s flower trade is orchestrated by the wholesalers at the bustling flower markets. Flowers, sourced from Gadap, Thatta, Hyderabad, Mirpurkhas, Tando Allahyar, Matiari and from various other corners of Sindh, adorn Siraj Ahmad’s stall. Besides the perennial favourites - roses, jasmines and marigolds - the shop also sells other seasonal flowers such as gul shabbo (tuberoses), susan (gladiolus) and statice or sea-lavender. A very large number of cut-flowers come from Pattoki, in Kasur district.

“Flowers are sold by the kilo. On some days we sell 15 kg, but on good days, we could even sell 50 kg. However, cut-flowers are sold by the dozen,” explains Siraj, adding that the wedding season is the best for this business, when the floral haven is loaded with flowers, “and the stall owner’s purse with more money than he needs,” he laughs.

As the sun sets, Siraj Ahmad’s vibrant day folds into the quietude of his house, where he lives with his wife, son, daughter-in-law and grandson. A daily-wager, he earns Rs 700 per day, clocking in at 8:15 in the morning and leaving at sunset. The stall, a nocturnal oasis, stays open until 1:00 am. There are four other employees at the stall. “Sometimes, when there is a lot of work, I stay back and leave in the morning. I get all my three meals here, but if I leave early I have dinner at home,” he says. According to him, the owner also pays for two packets of his favourite cigarettes, as he does not settle for anything less. Siraj Ahmad exudes the scent of nicotine, a curious juxtaposition against the alluring perfume of his floral companions.

Saleh Mohammad,

barber

Saleh Mohammad, is a skilled barber hailing from the Punjab, making a living on the fringes of urban life. Nestled behind the railway station, Saleh has carved out his niche in a spot teeming with life, where the ebb and flow of transient travellers provides the backdrop to his daily endeavours.

“My profession is a universal need,” Saleh asserts, a statement reflective of the essential service he provides to a diverse clientele. His modest open-air barber shop, strategically positioned for both arriving and departing passengers using trains or the inter-city buses, has been a fixture in this dynamic location for years.

In a candid conversation, Saleh expounds on the range of services he offers, highlighting his versatility as a barber. From haircuts and moustache trims to beard shaping and relaxing massages, he accommodates a spectrum of grooming needs. His pricing structure, ranging from Rs 100 to Rs 400, resonates with the affordability that caters to the budget constraints of his predominantly working-class clientele. “I am a poor-man’s barber,” Saleh proudly declares, drawing a distinction with the more upscale salons across the road.

Saleh’s daily routine is not without its challenges. The uncertainty of hawai rozi (uncertain income) looms large, contingent on the number of clients and their specific requirements. Despite the fluctuating nature of his earnings, Saleh navigates his profession with pragmatism. He acknowledges the impact of city shut downs due to rallies or strikes, recognising the shared plight of all daily-wage earners facing financial setbacks during such disruptions. He also pays a small bribe to the area policemen to keep them happy and manages to stay out of trouble.

The physical embodiment of Saleh’s trade is his footpath dukaan or shop, a humble but well equipped space. A chair, a mirror mounted on the wall and a shelf jutting out from under the mirror supported on two brackets fixed onto the wall, adorned with essential tools characterise his makeshift salon. The paraphernalia consists of two plastic soft-drink bottles filled with water, two brands of talcum powders, a small bottle of coconut oil, a few pairs of scissors, a razor, a shaving brush, a bar of soap, and a weathered aluminium mug are the tools of his craft.

As the sun begins its descent, Saleh Mohammad concludes his day, methodically stowing away his tools and implements in a battered steel trunk. The footpath, once a makeshift salon, is transformed into a transient storage space. With a padlock securing the trunk and the key safely tucked into his pocket, Saleh embarks on his journey home, leaving behind the urban hum to savour a hot dinner of daal and roti with his family. In the cadence of his daily routine, he embodies the spirit of perseverance and adaptability, navigating the challenges of his profession with dignity and a steadfast commitment to his craft.

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