Swaleheen- date seller

waleheen, once a resident of Mansehra, in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwah province, stands at the forefront of the Khajoor Bazaar, the date market. Nestled close to Mahabat Khan Road, where wholesale date shops flourish, his stall boasts an array of eight to ten date varieties, neatly arranged within cardboard cartons. In the labyrinth of Khajoor Bazaar, Swaleheen’s stall is one of the early stops, offering a diverse selection of dates procured from local wholesalers.

The Khajoor Bazaar, situated in the historic quarters of Karachi, weaves through a network of winding streets that can captivate one for hours. At its entrance, date vendors like Swaleheen perch atop improvised ramshackle structures, elevated by concrete blocks. Vibrant red tarpaulin sheets cloak their make-shift shops, providing both a striking visual contrast and shelter from the relentless sun that beats down on the market.

Dates, as a significant cash crop in Pakistan, take centre stage in the Khajoor Bazaar. Over 160 varieties are cultivated in the country, among which some of the choicest are Aseel, Fasli, Maazwati, Carba, Begum Jangi, Rabbi, Halawi, Zahidi, Dhakki and Kerbala. Date trees are grown in Turbat and Panjgoor in Balochistan, Khaipur and Sukkur in Sindh, Muzaffargarh, Dera Ghazi Khan and Jhang in the Punjab, and Dera Ismail Khan in the KP.

According to Swaleheen, Pakistani dates are in high demand during the month of Ramazan. Muslims, he notes, prefer breaking their fast with this nutritious fruit, known to contain 2,820 calories per kilogram. Swaleheen says that during other times of the year, he sources dates from Iran and Iraq to meet the diverse preferences of his clientele.

Remarkably, Swaleheen’s stall, a fixture on the bustling street for decades, operates without incurring a rent. Unfazed by corruption, he discloses that he only pays a nominal fee per day to the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation, steering clear of the burdensome bhatta or bribes associated with street vending.

Reflecting on his journey, Swaleheen shares that he ventured into the world of date-selling as a young boy, working alongside his father in Karachi. Now in his late fifties, his routine commences at 8:00am, navigating the vibrant chaos of the bazaar, and concludes at 9:00pm. As night falls, he returns to Mohajir Camp, where his wife and five children eagerly await his arrival. His eldest son has ventured abroad, employed as a mechanic in Saudi Arabia, forging his own path beyond the dynamic streets of Karachi.

Imam Bukhsh - horse-carriage driver

Sixty years ago, Imam Bukhsh’s family made the decision to depart from the streets of Sehwan Sharif, an ancient town renowned for the sanctum of Lal Shabaz Qalandar. They came to live in Karachi, where Imam Bukhsh’s father, a man of equine expertise, continued his legacy by navigating the city’s streets with a horse-drawn carriage – a trade inherited by Imam Bukhsh.

“In this trade, you’re not just a driver; you’re a caretaker,” Imam Bukhsh emphasises, his weathered hands gesturing towards his trusted companion, the eight-year-old horse tethered nearby. “These creatures, they’re like family. And like family, they need proper care.”

“Horses usually live for 20 to 25 years. Some may live up to thirty, if taken care of,” Imam Bukhsh says. Should his horse fall ill or sustain an injury, Imam Bukhsh spares no expense in ensuring its well-being, making trips to Saeed Manzil and the Richmond Crawford Veterinary Hospital, the city’s oldest bastion of animal health.

He underscores the significance of blinders or blinkers, not merely as leather accessories but as tools to guide the horse’s focus amid the bustling chaos of the city’s streets. “It’s about trust and direction,” he muses, his voice laden with years of practical wisdom.

Each day, Imam Bukhsh allocates around Rs 500 for his horse’s chaara, procuring a blend of grass, hay and barley from the busy Lea Market. Water, a lifeline for his companion, is drawn from a public tap at Pakistan Chowk roundabout, a daily routine. Horses need gallons of water to drink, and Imam Bukhsh keeps a large bucket handy and fills it whenever he is in the area. At night the horse and carriage are safely parked and chained close to this roundabout.

Imam Bukhsh lives in the vicinity of his nightly parking spot. He has a wife and two children (there were two more, but they died in infancy). Though denied the privilege of formal education, he ensures that his children tread a different path, as they embark on journeys to knowledge he could only dream of.

Despite the hardships, Imam Bukhsh’s spirit is unwavering. With prudent management, he manages to save a modest sum each month, primarily by ferrying schoolchildren to and fro in the iconic Victoria carriage. Laden with laughter and the promise of tomorrow, more than fifteen children clamber aboard, with two daring souls even sharing the driver’s seat beside Imam Bukhsh himself – a testament to the allure of tradition.

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