Dada Abdulla
Rajbir Deswal
Fazal Hussein came from Panipat. He was my grandfather's bosom friend. More than friendship, they had family interactions without any typical reservations against each other, of Hindu and Muslim households, much prevalent in those days. Hussein was a railway contractor, and his cousin Abdulla from Lahore was a regular visitor to our home in Anta village. My father addressed both of them as Taya ji.
We accorded to Abdulla the same status as was reserved for our grandfather and called him Dada Abdulla. Those were pre-Partition days. After Partition, he stayed back in India despite the fact that Hussein had migrated to Pakistan and Dada Abdulla knew none else except my grandfather here. Even back in Pakistan, Abdulla had none to count on as his kith and kin since having become and orphan at an early age, it was only Fazal Hussein who had brought him up He, remained a bachelor all his life. His opting to stay in India surprised many but not all in our family.Dada Abdulla was a favourite of the children in particular. He knew how to conduct himself when in company of elders, women and children. Yes, he had access to the kitchen in our house and even my orthodox grandmother did not object to a Muslim's presence, though she would cover her face behind the veil when Abdulla was around and the latter too wouldn't eschew from a mock-cough to announce his arrival to the women in the house.Not at all to justify his two meals a day did Abdulla work in the fields, particularly catering to the herd, but like every other member of the family he enjoined upon himself the task of contributing his bit. We would often enjoy the hitchhike and rattle of the bullock cart driven by Dada Abdulla to and from the fodder fields. For playing truant, we were chided by mother, almost hissing her protest. Dada Abdulla's taking sides with us settled the matter with her.He knew the sensibilities of each and every member of our family. While presiding over the village boys' wrestling bouts he never allowed me to take on anybody realising that I was then having my schooling in a town and wasn't tough enough to face the village boys. He would often forecast my future saying: "He'll become a company commander one day." And, yes, I command a score companies today.Dada Abdulla had a very strange habit of going away for weeks altogether without informing anybody in the house. But he would often come back, giving us all a feeling that he would surely return, whenever he went away. But one day the unusual happened. My father received a missive from Fazal Hussein's son in Pakistan. I remember father reading out the letter written in Urdu. "Ek buri khabar, Chacha Abdulla faut ho gaye!" He explained with damp eyes to us that Abdulla was no more.
I can still recall the tiny frame in loose kurta-pyjama and the aroma of the attar he applied on his temple. No wonder Bombay bounced back, and so soon at that.
pic courtesy:http://imagecache6.allposters.com/LRG/27/2702/2HDND00Z.jpg
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