"Kakkaji and I"
Kakkaji lived in our house and worked like a 'servant' as he was always bringing groceries and stuff, helping my mother and sisters in cooking and whatever he could do, but he was not employed as servant and he never had much 'needs' anyway. Gradually he was "provided' everything by us including money if he needed but no "salary", that is why nobody considered him as servant or treated him like that.
He had his own place in our home to put his "charpai' and sleep separate from us always even after coming to Pakistan. Will talk about his habits etc. later but here I wish to talk about some of his relationship with me.
It started with my primary school years. He was finishing his Primary classes when I was starting so my mother had asked him to accompany me to school (same School, called Parao School) It had 4 classes of Urdu and 4 classes of Hindi. Kakkaji was in "Hindi School" and I, of course in Urdu School.
Kakkji was making some money rolling 'bidis" and what I enjoyed going with him and coming back from school was peanuts that he could buy with a paisa or even "dhela" (Half paisa) as they were still in currency. and he would share the peanuts with me (my fav.)
I was about 10 years old when my family moved (according to the plans of my mother) back to Panjab except me because I had to finish my sixth grade before leaving. So for about 4-5 months I was to be looked after by Kakkaji in our Saugor home where my older brother was also present with his children. I would find Kakkaji loving as well as as strict disciplinarian, if not more, as my mother herself.
My mother may have given some instructions to Kakkaji but I was to follow exactly his orders or else.
I was given the orders in no uncertain terms "suraj dhalay peh tum ghar aaogay" (Must be back home at sunset) "warna main tumahin kaan say paker ker laaonga" (otherwise I shall bring you home holding you by your ear".
As it happens sometimes you get late when playing and time passes. So I saw him coming in my playfields after sunset one day towards me.
"Oh no! , I thought." But it was too late I was given the exact treatment that had been 'ruled' but he was not harsh in holding my ear.
On the other hand I was given bath by him daily (despite my protests and ensuring him I was old enough to take bath myself) and at bed time "meri tangain dabatay thay until I was asleep (against wishes, ignoring my protests, so that I had to fake sleep sometimes)
Out of love he wanted me to have milk in a bowl (katoray main, we did not have glasses at home), but did not want other children to see so he would call me in a room and give me the bowl of milk (Incidentally I did not like to drink milk) which I had to finish in front of him, or else. (May be mother told him or maybe he wanted me "mota taghra" when I get back to Panjab.
He always loved me like that and when I went back home from USA he told me
"Bhaiyya sari umer angraizon say lartay rahay aur tum phir unhin amin ja ghusay" ("Brother" always fought against the English and you have joined them now) Remember he called my father brother. All white people were "English" to him. (My father was very active in Politics,was a provincial leader of Congress, to get rid of the British Raj)
Later, I had wanted very much to take Kakkaji for Hajj but he kept saying (dakter jaingay to unkay sath jaonga" (If "Doctor" goes I'll go with him) He called my older brother "doctor" even though I was also a doctor. He loved all the children of "Bhaiyya and bhabi" so he thought it would be impossible for him to leave "Doctor" for a few days. My bhabi (May Allah award her Jannah) did not know as much to "look after" her husband as Kakkaji did. I remember how much Bhaijan Meraj (Allah unhain Jannat main jageh ata fermaiay) was grieved on the death of Kakkaji (so was everybody else in the family).
He developed severe arthritis of knees and started walking with a limp so I talked with him to come to America with me (or come to England with my sister, apa Shakila) to get surgery. He refused saying "Jo paisay wahan kharch karogay mere janazay peh laga dena"
My own children remember him well and my son (JAG's writer) Hassan learnt the alphabet of Hindi from Kakkaji (during one visit) and developed more knowledge of Hindi on his own (Shauqiyya) so much so that he taught Hindi for a year as "Assistant teacher" to the professor of Hindi-Urdu" in the Un. of Chappel Hill. He can read and understand Hindi more than I can (See my Hindi Blog).
5 comments:
very interesting...and soothing
Love is the best thing in world... May Allah keep in his blessings ever.
as for me i remember his parathas with "sufayd makkhan" were the best i have ever had :)
"You cant buy love" mystic bhai
Ayesha yes white makkhan has the freshest taste and of course purely organic. These things were so easy in the villages but now all the villages are becoming like towns/cities and that original "organic atmosphere " is not available and people are now money oriented. I have one "makkhan wali sister" (Dr. Asif's sister) and my "makkhan wali massi" who dies some years ago (mother-inlaw of Soofi saheb of B,mingham UK)
oooh kakkaji's parathas...i remember how kakkaji had his own style of parathas. there were the square ones, and then the round ones. In order to keep it from phullo-fying too much he would "score" the kaccha paratha while still in the tavva by striking it several times with the edge of the spatula, and he used to tell me that there was a different pattern for the square parathas than the round ones. and each day i saw him make his parathas, it was the same patterns every time: one for the square ones, and one for the round ones. I remember sitting near the chulha in Tayaji's house in Gujranwala and just watch him prepare breakfast every morning. He had the entire process down such that it seemed like he prepared the entire breakfast in one long fluid motion.
when he taught me hindi (devnagari) he was so excited, and at first he went through the whole alphabet quickly in his excitement, and me, with my poor Urdu, I could barely understand him. But even though I was very young I could tell it meant a lot to him so I asked him to explain it to me again, and slowly, which he did. Some years later in college when I retaught myself, his lessons came flooding back into my memory, especially the way he wrote the hindi letter "a"...he wrote it not like the one that resembles "31" but rather the "pa" with 3 fingers.
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