Ibarat 01
An inscription, a write-up

A monthly publication from the Compughar

November 2001
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Oral histories are all that colonies like ours have. Till the occurrence of a "significant" incident, an accident, we lie outside of newspaper headlines, anonymous. Our LNJP colony, for example. We've never seen it discussed in any forum. What happens inside the colony, however, is a different story altogether. Residents invariably recount old stories on occassions of marriage, when working, when quarrelling or sharing with one another love and happy moments. And if the event happens to be special, almost every one gets involved: every street corner, every tea shop, park and people awaiting their turn to fill water from a tap saturate and brim over with tales. Stories old and new. Stories of daily toil, as also of dreams and hopes. And even if it's no special occasion, these stories find life in every day talk... our very own gossip columns!!

So you'll find these stories lying around every where. Pick them up on your way if you feel like it. That's just what we have done. Met the elderly, spoken with our sisters in the colony, spent some time thinking about the names floating around in daily conversations. And it's amazing what we found. Just like humans and roads, streets and lanes also have many many names. And these keep changing with time. Some however are really obstinate. They stick, refusing to budge. Take Connaught place, for instance. Our government can hang huge boards announcing its rechristening. But who calls C.P. Rajiv Chowk? Our lanes... our lanes have no name plates as identity markers. And they are named after names, things and personalities we are familiar with, close to. And that, friends, surely works!

So here it is, our first presentation to you of one of the ways of seeing our colony. In here are some stories, some poems -- familiar and new. Some photographs that we took. Some pictures we drew.

And all of this has been possible because of the love and suport of the elders of the colony. Some we've been able to name in this issue, some we couldn't. But our heartfelt thanks go out to all of them. Thank you. This is a small attempt by our CompuGhar (ComputerHouse). And it'll mean so much to us if you could let us know what you think of the issue.

We take your leave till next time. Salaam!

Ibarat team:
Azrah, Mehrunisa, Shamsher, Suraj Rai, Shahjahan, Nilofer, Yashodha and Bobby.

The first issue of Ibarat: In memory of Ayesha

Lok Nayak Jai Prakash Basti:
(a old poem about our basti)

People kept coming, the journey began,

A forest there was of junk
A thicket of chir, kikar and bushes.
In the stunned silence of the graveyard
That is where no people lived.

Scorpions and chameleons by the dozens would appear
And kaan khajuras to sing in our ears.
The land was cleared in '55
There appeared houses for our many leaders.

And then when leaders took off
All that remained were their broken down flats.
People carried away the doors
Door frames, pipes as well as windows.

Piles of garbage in every home
Everything into a ruin tranformed.
Someone brought along a cot
And also some people - one or two, that's all.

Houses of wood, mud and bricks
Were created atop garbage hills.
There was neither water, electricity nor
No drain pipes or toilets to speak of.

Water was bought from the market
And at night earthen lamps were lit.
Nearby was a playground here
Passing messages not a simple affair.

There was a store house for our waste
And a shop that Jugru ran.
This is what our happiness consisted of
Rest was a morbid, unhappy state of affairs.

The colony, oh, it had no name
And no school to which no one came.
But people came, they came and came
And the colony, it was lain.

Now here are houses two-storeyed
Taps in every street there be.
The fruits of everyone's labour have borne
Facilities now in every home.

A curfew in eighty four, there was
When riots had broken out in Delhi.
Rules prohibited venturing out
Forbidden was playing out of doors.

Destroyed it was, the Minto Road colony
Where our relations, friends, players lived.
Strewn across, to far away lands
Without schools, water, electricity.

Everything happened, save chaos
No one in the name of religion fought.
Together we celebrate holi-eid
Diwali, Moharram, and Bakr-eid.

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What all we passed through: a passage to our lanes

There is in our colony a web of lanes. Every lane has its own quirks and habits, its own uniqueness and speciality, its own share of problems. Here we present to you some of them...

Nana's (grandfather's) lane

Nana's lane is well known from before. Nana loved kids, and the kids, him. The young and the old alike call him Nana ever since he came here. Nana owns a sweet shop. Newcomers, when they hear the chant 'nana nana' wonder who this is, and neighbours then tell them about our dear nana.
 
Barber's lane

This barber's been around for long now. He has two sons. One works. The other, who can't speak, has been missing now for three years. This is the only barber's shop in the colony and every one comes here for a trim.
 
Chacha Papdi's lane

Chacha Papdi is the name of a man. In the lane there is a pole. Chacha Papdi's house is near that pole. His mother has grown old now. She can't walk. Her husband died long ago. Now she lives with her son. She's been living in this colony for many many years. We've heard she was the first person to start living in this colony.

The lane with the Masjid

There are many houses around the masjid. There are among these houses several shops. People stop to pray in the masjid. This lane is quite broad, while the other lanes in the colony are quite narrow. It's so broad, a bus could easily be driven in. Near the masjid is a doctor's shop. The doctor is famous as 'the doctor from near the masjid'. Whenever someone brings medicines and we ask them where they got the medicines from, they say, from the one near the masjid. And the other thing is that whenever someone gives directions to their house, using the doctor's house as a reference point makes finding the way much simpler.

Liyaqat's lane

Liyaqat's full name is Choudhary Liyaqat Ali. Liyaqat is an electrician. He has power faliure sometimes. Liyaqat contested elections.
 
The lane of the Temple

This temple is very old. People pray here. Right next to it is a doctor's shop who is known by the name of 'doctor from near the temple'. This doctor has also been here many years. Now only very few people come to take medicine from him. In all, there are five doctors' shops in the colony.

Lane of Video Games

Playing here is a new occurrence. Earlier the video games were played near the masjid. Then they shifted to the lane next to Chacha Papdi's lane. Children used to come here earlier, and they come here now. All 15 yards of the room used to be filled with children. Children of all ages, old and young. But one day Hamid, the man who used to run the show, got arrested by the police. And the children who were playing there were beaten up and were told to concentrate on their studies. No one plays here any more. The lane is in search of a new name.
 
Chawwa's lane

In the lane is Chawwa's shop that sells meat. Chawwa is the name of a man. He sells the meat in the shop. The shop is very old now. Mostly, people buy meat from him. In all, there are two meat shops in the colony; one is Zakir's, and one Chawwa's. Chawwa's shop is older than Zakir's. Each and every child in the colony knows Chawwa. Chawwa! how strange the name sounds, doesn't it! His real name is Hussainuddin.
 
The lane with the Latrine

The lane with the latrine is near Shabana baajee's house. It has four toilets. There are 51 houses in the lane. 11 of these are on the first floor. 47 houses are made of bricks and 4 of wood. Both men and women use these toilets. The toilets are always dirty. The street is always smelly. In all there are four toilets in the colony. Some people have constructed toilets in their own homes. A sweeper comes to clean the toilets every day. Still, they remain dirty. It is the people who use them who keep them dirty.
 
Bismillah's lane

Bismillah is a woman's name. She is old now. She owns a vegetable shop. She has had it from the beginning. Whenever people buy vegetables from her, they take Bismillah's name. There is another vegetable shop opposite her's. The owner of that shop is also known as Bismillah. Bismillah has now opened a hotel. When people are passing by, they stop to buy vegetables, and some people eat there itself. As a result whoever comes from outside asks where Bismillah's lane is.

Shaukat's lane

Shaukat's lane is named after Shaukat. Shaukat owns a tea shop. He stays in the tiny shop. There are five to six tea shops in the colony, so his earnings are low. One of these other tea shops is right opposite Shaukat's shop.
 
The Road-lane

The road-lane passes through many lanes. Where there are many roads. Where occur many accidents. Several cars run on this road. And pollution is aplenty. And lots of smoke can be sourced to this very road. People who live by the road must be sick and tired of all the noise.

Mohataram's lane

Mohataram's house is in the first lane. It's been six months since Mohataram opened his shop here. He has four brothers. All four look after the shop. Mohataram also owns a factory. Where they make labourers work.
 
Kallu's lane

The ration-shop guy. The ration guy Kallu's shop used to be in our colony earlier. The lane in which he used to live is named after him. Kallu gets ticked off when children sing the song "Kallu mama" in front of his house.
 
Bridegroom's lane

Bridegroom's lane is very old. This lane is known as the lane of the bridegroom because many years ago, a man got married and came here and opened a shop of sweets. Everyone started calling it the bridegroom's lane. Whenever anyone brought anything from this shop, they'd say they'd purchased it from the bridegroom's shop. Soon enough everyone, young and old, started calling it by that name. The bridegroom died a year ago, and his wife, six to seven months after that. But the lane continues by the same name.

Allah Rakhi's lane

Allah Rakhi's husband used to be a dahi-bada vendor. Then, as his business turned profitable, he set up a shop selling sweets. Maula also owns a shop in the same lane, but because Allah  Rakhi's shop is famous, the lane got named after her. She's around 40 years old.

Naeem's lane

Naeem's lane is five years old. There is a shop in the lane from where people make their purchases. There is no other shop apart from this one for quite a distance.

Sunil's lane

There is a shop in Sunil's lane. The shop keeper's name is Sunil. Sunil's shop mostly sells bread and butter. People who stay there buy their breakfast supplies from this shop. There is no other shop apart from this one for quite a distance.

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An interview with brother Mohataram

It was Saturday. The date, 8/9/2001. Time, 11:30. I went to Mohataram bhai's house to interview him. Before going there, I sat down and framed a few questions to ask him. I left the centre with a pen and notebook. I was observing my surroundings as I walked. On the way to his house from the centre, there is a shop that sells meat, a doctor's shop, a masjid, Nabeel's shop, a shop that sells bottles and curd, two shops selling vegetables. You see maximum number of people at the vegetables' shop. Some just stand around, not meaning to buy anything. Then there are those who who come to buy vegetables and some who can be seen strolling around the masjid.

I was watching them all as i moved. But in my head were buzzing the questions I had to ask brother Mohataram. I was wondering if i'd be able to catch him this time around. Because the last two times i went to his house, he wasn't there.

These were my thoughts as I reached his house. In front of his house is a small shop that he himself owns. And by its side is a tiny path leading upto the house. And from it rises a ladder that you have to climb, bending forward a little. When I reached the shop I saw Mohataram's brother Subhan sitting there (fair, small eyes, short, dark blue trousers, sky blue shirt).

I asked him, is brother Mohataram around?
Subhan (turning towards me): He's not in.
I asked if he could be located somewhere nearby, then maybe someone could fetch him. Subhan said he didn't know. But if there was some work to be done, then he could be of help. I said I wanted to interview him. (I was standing on the street. I looked around.) Subhan said, take my interview. (he laughed). I said, yes, if he wanted, I could ask him the questions.

Subhan said, what all will you ask?
I said, the same as I would have asked brother Mohataram. Some about the street, some about brother Mohataram. Subhan said, okay, go ahead. (as soon as he said this, I took out my notebook and the list of questions.) I said, fine, so should I begin? (As soon as I said this, he looked frightened).

Subhan immediately said, I won't give an interview. I asked why? Subhan said, no. What if I say something wrong? I said, no. There's going to be no such problem. I'm not going to ask you any question that could frighten you. But once again, almost immediately, he refused. I looked around and thought today was not going to be my day, yet again.
 
Upset, I allowed my gaze to wander. Suddenly I saw brother Mohataram approaching us and I immediately said, here comes brother Mohataram. Now I can interview him. He was wearing a shirt the shade of almonds and brown pants, a face on which the dust of the day had settled. Once he was near us, I asked him where he was coming from. He said he'd just stepped out for a bit. Then I told him why I was there, and what all I wanted to speak with him about.
 
Anyway, here is the conversation, as it happened:

Azrah (opening her notebook): What is your age?

Mohataram: Must be around 34 years (he looked up as he said this).

Azrah: When did you come to this colony?

Mohataram: It's been 16 years now. (He looked around).

Azrah: This lane is called Mohataram's lane now. What was it called before you came here? (I asked this question because we were talking of his arrival here.)

Mohataram: Before I came, this lane had no name. Because not too many people lived here. Yes, if someone set shop here, or sold something, then there would be that recognition. The name came after I did.

Azrah: So how did you come to be recognised?

Mohataram: When I first came here, I used to paint. Earlier I had to go asking for work. But then people started approaching me with work. So, slowly, the lane became known by my name.

Azrah: How does it feel to hear every one say "Mohataram's lane"?

Mohataram: Initially there was the exhilaration of having become famous. But now I'm used to it.

Azrah: What other work do you do?

Mohataram: I've done various things. Worked in handicrafts' factories, in shoes, and even with nawab sahib.

Azrah: You probably got to know many people through all the work you've done. You probably know everything about those people.

Mohataram: Yes, I know every one here very well.

Azrah: Is getting to know people an interest you have cultivated, or is it something you just enjoy?

Mohataram: It's an interest I enjoy.

Azrah: Do you like any sport?

Mohataram: Nothing in particular. I play ludo sometimes.

Azrah: Where do lanes get their names from?

Mohataram: Many lanes here are named after people. Like Liyaqat's lane. He's known in the colony because he is one of its chiefs. That is why the lane's name was changed from 'the lane of the temple' to 'Liyaqat's lane'.

Similarly, lanes get named after shopkeepers or tutors of chapters from the Quran : Aunt Zaibun's lane, the lane with the latrines. Then, names change as well. Sometimes, lanes can have more than one name. Chawwa's lane: Donkey herders' lane. (Earlier donkeys used to be tied up in a park here. Horses stopped coming here after a house was constructed. Chawwa opened a meat shop nearby. Since then the lane came to be associated with his name.)

Kallu, the ration guy's lane: The lane with the tap.

(Video) game lane: Papaya lane.

Sunil's lane: Naeem's lane.

Aunt Zubain's lane: Lane of the Biharis.

Dogs' lane: This lane has two more names: Lane with the latrines and the chhola lane. Earlier there were three toilets in this lane. Hence the name. Then, the first house to be built here was that of the chhole waala, so the name changed. And then here came a bitch who bit everyone who stayed in the lane. That was her claim to fame. She gave birth to three pups who have all grown up now. The whole lane is now 'dog-infested'. So, it's called the Dogs' lane.

Centre/ Tea/ Masjid Lane: There is but one masjid in this colony. Everyone goes here to read their namaz. That's why the name 'the lane of the masjid'. On this lane is a two-storeyed house (in it is our Ankur Centre) that everyone calls 'building'. So it's also called the 'lane with the building'. There is a famous tea shop here. No one knows his name. So it's called the Tea Lane. This lane has more shops than it has houses. So, we also call it the Shop Lane.
 
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Articles, photographs, design, layout by the Ibarat team at the Compughar, Cybermohalla

Ibarat team: Azra Tabassum, Mehrunnisa, Shamsher Ali, Suraj Rai, Shahjehan,
Nilofer, Yashodha Singh, Bobby Khan, Babli Rai, Shahana Qureshi.

They can be contacted at compughar@sarai.net

Thanks:

Brother Mohataram from the colony, for the interview.

Ankur Children's Education Section
Sarai Cybermohalla Project

Translation: Shveta Sarda



    

Ibarat 02
An inscription, a write-up

A monthly publication from the Compughar

July 2002
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A dialogue

We promised a new Ibarat every month, so here we are again. A little delayed, though, because of several reasons - the realisation of our dream to go to Bombay, school examinations of the Compughar team, relatives' marriages, and power failures from time to time.

We were really happy to read your suggestions, which you wrote on the blank sheets we had placed on the walls alongside the last issue of Ibarat. Suggestions about the need to increase the font size, inclusion of the names of lanes we had missed out, other topics from the basti on which subsequent issues may be based. When we read them we felt you really do consider the Compughar as your own.

The topic for this issue of Ibarat is 'work'. When we all sat down to discuss it, we realised there were many facets to work, and that these are related in myraid ways to every thing. For instance, their relationship with god, with place, with tools, with time, etc. It is about some 'works', this Ibarat.

After we carried bhai Mohataram's interview in the last Ibarat, it became much easier to have conversations [for publishing] with other people. Many people volunteered to tell us things related to them. We hope that, as with the last one, you read this Ibarat with affection.
 
Our request to you is to not spoil your own toil. What we mean is that you take care of this Ibarat because we try to search the history of our basti (settlement) or that which is related to it and put that in it. If we don't know our basti ourselves, then the government or its workers will not let us get introduced to its life. This is a result of our collective efforts, then why not let this be the ladder to create an identity of the basti.
 
Don't forget to give us your suggestions. We will return again with another Ibarat. Till then, Khuda Haafiz.

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Work

What is work, in reality? What women who stay at home and do is also work. That is also work which fruit vendors, those who sit on tea shops and those who sell things from sweet shops do. And that is also work which people who sweep and collect garbage, that is sweepers, do. But then why do people view different kinds of work differently? Why are there so many points of view to work? Probably because people also see work as good and bad. For instance, people who sweep and collect garbage are considered 'fallen'. People keep a distance from themwhile walking, as if physical contact will cause disease. But why don't people realise that if it weren't for these people, who would collect the garbage? If no one collects garbage, there will be piles and piles of it. Then we wouldn't have tall buildings, only towers of rubbish. If only people understood this, work would not be thought of as big or small, as good or bad. Because work is only work. Every human being works to earn to fulfil needs at home. For instance, a butcher butchers thousands of goats, buffaloes, hens etc in a day. Many people wonder, doesn;t he get frightened? Doesn't his heart feel merciful? But to say all this is wrong, because that is his own work. If he starts feeling merciful, scared, then who will do his work? If buffaloes, goats and hens are not cut up, they will outnumber human beings. Then there won't be any space left for humans to live.

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A day in the life of a woman

I have written about a woman. What all work she does from morning till night. The woman I am writing about is called Dhanno. Dhanno wakes up in the morning at 7:00 a.m. At 7:30 she makes tea for her son. And wakes up her younger children for school. At 8 she readies them for school. At 8:15 she collects all her utensils and washes them. At 8:45 she finishes this work. At 10 she wakes up her young daughter. And tells her to go switch the motor on and fill water. From 10:30 to 11:30 she washes clothes. At 12 she cleans the house,from inside as well asoutside. She does this till 12:30. At 12:45 she strains out the water from the clothes andtakes them to spread them out.Then she rests till 1:30. At 2:00 she goes to the market tobuy vegetables, spices and other things for the house. She returns from the market at 3:00. And tells her daughter to cook the food. She cooks. At 3:15, her elder sister come to their house. She prepares tea for her. Brings some snacks. And chats with her sister, laughing all the time. She eats her food at 4:00 and goes to sleep at 4:30. At 5:00, her daughter Shanno asks if she can go for her tuitions.
 
She asks, may I go? Dhanno says, no. Shanno insists. At 5:30, she gets up, angry, and starts abusing her. At 6:00, she goes and sits under a tree near where Bismillah stays. Chats a little. There was a slightly mad woman there. She was passing by. She caught hold of her hair from behind and laughed a lot. The woman walked away, abusing. At 6:15, Dhanno comes back home. Makes tea. Switches on the television and sits down. Her children return from school. They ask for food. And the children say, ammi, we are hungry. Give us food. Their mother raises her eyebrows and says, get lost, you've just come, and want food immediately. At 6:30, Shanno returns from her tuitions. Dhanno says, impertinent girl, I had told you not to go, still you went. At 7:00 she switches the television on to watch it. And listens to old songs. Then the call for prayer (azaan) is made. She switches the t.v. off. Offers her prayers, and gets up at 7:30. After some time, there is a fight going on somewhere. At quarter to eight, she goes out singing. The song was, tum yaad na aayaa karo, yaad aane se pehale tum aa jaya karo, chhota sa milan tha, ho lambi judaai hai. Aa jaao ke jan mere honthon pe aaee hai. After watching the fight, she comes back, laughing, at 9:00. Eats her food at 9:10. Then keeps watching television. And makes some handicraft material. By 10-10:30, she finishes the work and goes to sleep.
 
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Work and god

The relation between work and god is very deep. Everyone takes their god's name before commencing work. For some people, work and god are equals. If someone hits against something, they take their god's name. What some people in the basti said about work:
 
Maulvi (one learned in Muslim law): Work gets you respect, and work gets you god.
Bhai (brother) Chavva (butcher): Work increases when you take god's name.

Naresh: God gives us hands and feet to work. If we don't work then leave alone roti/bread, we won't even get grass to eat.
 
Zaibun Khala (aunt): Work is begun by taking god's name. With god's name, work becomes abundant. For instance: some women or men get up in the morning and pray to their respective gods. Children keep repeating Ram or Rahim's name. Old people keep sitting in temples. For some people, praying or reading the namaaz itself is work. For instance pundits and maulanas [hindu and muslim temple priests repsectively]. Beggars also beg by taking Ram or Allah's name. At the time of their exams, children remember many hymns or kalmas in Allah's name.
 
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Work and place

In this basti, work is done in accordance with space. For instance, those who make surma dani's, pipes, items from thin metal sheets into which they drill holes. People have started many enterprises in their homes. Enterprises in which women also are involved. Women do several kinds of jobs. Like handicrafts, embroidery, sewing, printing and selling things in sweet shops. Women have mostly started handicraft work and they get their orders from Shakur Ki Dandi. Sometimes dealers themselves bring raw materials. When the goods are ready, it is sold in some market or some grandshop.

Cloth for embroidery is brought from Turkhman Gate and Sui Walan. Designs are already printed on them so no mistakes are made while someone embroiders. Women can do this work really well beacause in earlier times it was very important that women learn sewing and embroidery. Here men and women both stitch. Women use the machine that is operated by hand, while men mostly use the one where feet have to be emplyed. We think clothes can be stitched better by using the machine operated by foot. There must be only one or two people who get their stiching jobs done outside.
 
The are many kinds of shops here. Some sweet shops. Some people have opened shops inside their homes, and some of them, outside. It's commonplace now to open sweet shops.
 
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Work and time

There are some kinds of work in our basti that happen on time. For instance, the doctor's shop. There are five doctors' shops in the basti. One is Mohamaad Ahmad's as well. He opens his shop at 9.30 in the morning. Shuts it by 2.00 in the afternoon. Another is of the doctor from near the temple. It is known as the shop of the doctor from the temple. Mohammad Ahmad is known as the doctor from the masjid.

There are some workhops as well. But they do not follow a time schedule. People who live in the basti work here. In our basti there is a workshop that belongs to Laaloo. They make boxes here. Eight children work here. Three of them go to study in the morning. They work from 2.00 to 8.00. There age is between eight and ten. Two are in the second standard. And one is in the sixth. Five boys have stopped going to school. Of these eight children, four know the work from beginning to end, while others only know parts of it. These must be around 17-18 years old. If they want, they can open their own workshops. But they work with Laaloo. I spoke with Laaloo bhai. He lives in Ganj Mir Khan, but comes to LNJP colony for work. Diwali time is good for his work. After Diwali, the work flow reduces for around 1-2 months. The boys who work with bhai Laaloo get Rs 800-900 every month.
 
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Work and tools

Some work can't be done without using tools. For instance the work of a motor mechanic, carpenter and electrician. Even though all work needs tools. Tools make our work much simpler. For instance when we put a screw in something with our bare hands, the screw will remain loose, while with a screw driver the work will not only get done faster but also be stronger. There are some tools that can be found at home: for instance scissors, pliers and knives will be there in every house because a woman's work can't get done without them.
 
Then there is some work that just can't be done without tools. Like a tailor can't work without a pair of scissors, wood work, without a saw. All tools have been created by humans to make their work simpler. Children who study in schools have as their tools pens.
 
The names of some tools are such that they are strange to hear. For instance a motor mechanic's tools such as spanners (pilakpana, churmai ki goti, 11 ki goti), magnet puller and colour pooler etc. People also respect their tools, specially men. If by mistake their foot touches their tools, they pick it up and kiss it. Some people keep their tools near god's feet. They believe this will ensure their work will be done well and the (Hindu) god/dess of wealth Laxmi [i.e. money] will come. My father is a tailor. He doesn't let us cut our nails with the pair of scissors he uses to cut clothes. He says the scissors earn him his daily bread and it isn't good to use it to cut nails.
 
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Work and rhythm

A relationship between work and rhythm is seem everywhere. When a person gets bored while working, s/he takes assistance of rhythm (songs). Usually it is seen that when women and girls do there morning household chores (sweeping, washing utensils etc), they play a tape and keep humming along with the songs. Decks also keep playing in workshops because when work is linked with rhythm the work does not seem difficult or huge, because a lot of our attention is on the words or the tune of the song. On Sundays, everyone (children, adults, youth) are on holiday and either go out or stay at home and listen to music. There are many handicraft enterprises and worksjops in this basti and from which a lot of sound of songs can be heard. There is a workshop near where we live, where a lot of people work. Their door opens towards our home. There is a staircase there which they use to go up and down. One day they were playing the deck in very high volume at 11.30 at night. We were sleeping on the roof. My mother got up and asked them to lower the volume and one small child replied, saying they wouldn't. Before my mother could open her mouth to say anything, one man got up and lowered the volume. Then ammi came back and to the roof and lay down. Not only adults, but even children like to listen to music when working. A small child listens to a lullaby from his mother while sleeping, this shows that whether or not a child knows about the world, s/he knows about rhythm. A relationship with rhythm makes work less burdensome.
 
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A conversation with Hamid

"But I won't give this interview," he said, laughing. "Why?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, immediately upset. "Oh no, you're thoroughly prepared to ensnare me.!" I connected the walkman, head phone and microphone and said, "No, no, there is nothing like that, ths is just for us."
 
"No, I don't want my voice to be recorded. Elections are due very soon. I don't want for there to be any problem for my men."

"Oh no," Farzana baji, who was there with me, chipped in. "No harm will come to anyone because of this, least of all to you." Farzana baji, who;s a little plump, short, has eyes of medium size, thin lips, a full, rounded face, wears glasses. She tried her best to convince Hamid, but he wouldn't relent. Insisted that he'd give us an interview, but minus the recording. "I'll tell you every thing just like this. You write it down." I didn't have much choice.

Azra: So tell me, why video games?

Mr. Hamid: Why video games? Actually, I'd gone to watch the film Chanakya once. I'm talking of some three to four years ago. I was stepping out of the cinema hall when a shop caught my eye. You haven't got your tape recorder on, have you?" He glanced towards where the walkman was, cutting himslef short. Then picked it up to check. Replaced it when convinced and resumed speaking. "Yes, so as I was saying, that shop caught my attention. There were more than three to four games there. Some many children were playing. And with them, agging them on, were their parents, shouting out their encouragement. Seeing them I thought, wow, this is some game even parents don't disapprove of. If we have this in our JP colony, then, though not play along with them, at least parents will not disallow children from playing. The thought stayed with me, though I didn't act on it. Then I went to meet a friend one day. He had started a video game shop with someone. This is by the side of Delite. I saw that there were many children there as well. I asked my friend how much he earned in a day. He said anywhere between a hundred and hundred and fifty per day. Without power failures, a hundred and fifty, otherwise, at least a hundred.
 
That's when I really seriously thought about it. Children seemed to be really hooked to it, and it could be a part time job for me. It looked like a good mental exercise for kids, as well as a source of knowledge for them. I had some money of my own, so I started this.

Azra: So why did you take a loan?

Mr. Hamid: Yes, I had taken a loan with Mohataram bhai's help. I'd started a box factory with that. I thoroughly enjoyed that. I worked on both simultaneously. Video game on one hand, and the factory on the other. I employed a boy here, for the game, who managed things a little. And another boy in the factory. And I would oversee both.
 
Azra: Do you play vidoe games?

Mr.Hamid: No, I don't play. Sometimes some friends come. We chat a bit. (He smiled). Sometimes I play one or two tokens.
 
Azra: How much is one token worth?

Mr. Hamid: 50 paise. This much because people here are poor. Children shouldn't fight with their mothers for money. 50 paise is affordable.

Azra: But if it is so inexpensive, why do people still object?

Mr. Hamid: That's because children wanted to sit here from morning to evening. Sometimes a child is away from home for hours, though not here. But when parents see them, and the child happens to be here - even if the child's been here a couple ofminutes, though away from home three hours - they think the child's been here all along. They would beat the child. I used to fight with them on this. But I used to follow a rule - I'd send the child home by my own self. But this would happen if I wasn't paying attention. But I enjoyed all this very much.
 
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Some more stories about our lanes

There are some lanes that, though they have their own name, are known by the names of other lanes. Like the lane of Bihari Kalam's hotel. It is also known as Bismillah's lane. Some others call it Bangladeshi lane. We have heard these three kinds of things:

Angoori: Very few people know about this lane. Often we give our house number for identification. Or say that we live behind Bismillah's shop, or tell the name of the Bengali hotel, Kalam's Hotel. I am from Bengal. And many people in this lane are from Bengal. It's been thirty years since I came here. Then there were no houses here. There was an open field. We cleared the area and made our house. In our lane, a lot of people make their purchases from Nan's shop, Ram Das' shop and Zakitr's shop. We know the names of lots of lanes here, like Allah Rakhi's lane, Maulana Naeem,Kullu, Roshan, Masjid, Zukur, Zebun's lanes. At least a hundred people live in this lane. From UP, Bihar, Delhi, kishan Ganj. We fight, but we make up as well. Specially there are a lot of fights over matters concerning children. Or about incidents surrounding boys and girls. About fifteen days back,a boy used to live in someone's house on rent. He teased a girl. We got together and threw the boy out of the colony.no one tolerates such things here. We want everyone to know about our lane. Here women are employed in handicrafts and making tea as well.
 
Zarina: From Roshan's side, this is the first lane. It starts here, and ends here. Here men are mostly hawkers, mostly of fruits. Women do handicrafts and sewing work. 90-100 people live in this lane.
 
Anita: Our lane is behind Sunil's shop. Many internal fights happen here. There is a fight for every small thing. Sometimes over water, sometimes over children. Fights happen inside homes as well. Women are engaged in handicrafts here.
 
Rizwana: Our lane is spoken of as the second in the first lane after Arvind hospital. This first lane is very long. Some seven to eight lanes join it. But our lane is one of the smaller ones associated with it. This lane has only six rooms. Only 30-40 people live here. Men here work in tea shops, as tailors, in paan shops, groceries. Women here are involved in handicrafts and kaarchob (embroidery done by fixing the cloth in a standing frame.) In this lane is also the facility of a telephone. Calls come on this phone. Mostly from Sitamarhi, Ludhiana, Narela. Many fights happen here, huge ones. Within houses, and also outside.
 
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For our brothers:

You wanted to know what we do at the Compughar (building). The time has come when we give you a reply to this question without saying anything. Like you used the Ibarat boards as raw material to burn for warming your hands in winters, there is now a book [Galiyon Se / by lanes] that you can use as fuel for cooking for a whole month. A book in which we have tried to tell, to narrate, to say many kinds of thoughts, reflections, realities. Now you can think for yourself this: how much fun must there be in something as spicy and seasoned as this book.

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Articles, photographs, design, layout by the Ibarat team at the Compughar, Cybermohalla
 
Ibarat team: Azra Tabassum, Mehrunnisa, Shamsher Ali, Suraj Rai, Shahjehan, Nilofer, Yashodha Singh, Bobby Khan, Babli Rai, Shahana Qureshi.

They can be contacted at compughar@sarai.net

Translation: Shveta Sarda



Ibarat 03
An inscription, a write-up

A monthly publication from the Compughar

August 2002
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A conversation

Aadaab.

"We're back". Remember the "Bombay Trip"? When our team, all packed, was waiting to fulfil its dream of going to Bombay from the basti, there was on the one hand the sadness of leaving behind our parents, and on the other the immense happiness of going to Bombay. Do you know that before we got there, we never thought that Bombay was not a city magical, but another city like Delhi, albeit with its own markings. There, as in Delhi, people breathe, children work to feed themselves, and women can also be seen working. Each person is busy with her/his own work and we would never have got to know this if we hadn't gone to Bombay.

Going there has given us some courage, in a way. Now we feel we are more open to undertaking certain tasks by ourselves, individually. Many of our misconceptions were done away with, like the one about how girls are sold there, or that there is lumpen behaviour on the roads, that we would get 'spoilt' by going there.
 
The desire to go to a new place, there definitely was. But we never thought it would be realised. Anyhow, how did we find roaming the streets of Bombay, seeing the people there, thinking, reflecting, understanding, talking, visiting different places... so, come with us, we'll take you to Bombay with our writings.

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The Journey > Delhi to Mumbai

When we got into the train at Old Delhi railway station, in our eyes were, simultaneously, the faces of our parents and the image of Bombay, bedecked as heaven would be. That, because we thought of Bombay as a city magical. Perhaps without its shareof sadness? It's share of poverty? People who live there probably know that uppermost in our minds was the image of the city as a film city. As if film stars were going to reach the station to greet us!

The scenes from the train looked beautiful. Somewhere there were high mountains, and it seemed a brown carpet was spread out. The shape of the mountains, if we were to observe them, reflect an image of life itself. Mostly, everything looked green. On the way we saw a field of marigold flowers. And many trees on which names were written. It looked like the names were coming out from the trees. Saw a brick house, the walls of which were not cemented. Just bricks, one on top of the other. Inspite of that, the house was not shaking.

Sitting in the train, we saw a number of stations. Like Baroda, Surat, Ratlam, Thuriya etc. From the train, it seemed as if a lot of what we saw was travelling with us, while lots kept getting left behind. By ten or eleven at night, we were in our seats, lying down, trying to go to sleep. But we just couldn't, because our hearts were eager to see the sights outside.
 
We spent a day and a night in the train. Enroute, we played a number of games. So the time seemed to pass by without leaving behind a trace. We also ate all kinds of things on different stations. Bhaiya was carrying all kinds of snacks for us, which we ate all through the journey.

This train journey ended on the morning of the sixth, at 4:30 a.m. at Bandra station. It was still quite dark, and so the many lights that were lit, Bombay looked like the city of our dreams. Outside the staion, some shops were opening, some already had. We took a local train to Andheri from there itself. There, we sat at the Ideal Restaurant and had our morning meal.

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Haji Ali

At twelve in the afternoon, we reached Haji Ali. On the way to Haji Ali, we first bought a chaadar (a sheet of offering) and some khil (puffed paddy). A man with a black beard, wearing a cap was sitting there. On the way were also some shops - some small, some large - and with them, crowds as well. It seemd as if it were a special day. The small shops sold talismans (tabeez), caps, sunglasses, frames, and much more. The path there was neither too broad, nor too narrow. Women, children, the elderly could be seen begging. There were many people, among them hindus, muslims, fisherfolk, foreigners.
 
Waves playing around the path to the dargah kept increasing. They seemed to be reaching out to all the rocks and boulders there. We climbed the stairs and entered. Inside, a qawaali was on. We listened to it for a while, then moved towards the mazaar (shrine). Outside, at the entrance, there was a boy who was putting to one side everyone's slippers and shoes. There on a board was written, 'Pay whatever your heart deems fit. If harrassed for more, the matter will reach the office.' We took off our footwear and went inside. Then, into the room where the mazaar was. We all offered the chaadar, but it was Suraj and Shamsher who went inside to spread it, because it's the men and boys who do that; ladies pray for wish fulfilment. We all stood there itself and did that, then went and sat outside. Nearby were some taps where some elderly women were performing their ablutions. All of their attention was focused on the water and the ablutions.
 
Haji Ali was surrounded by water. We set out towards the water. Where there were big boulders and it was very windy. The way to the sea was rocky, because of which our feet got bruised. We had quite a lot of fun sitting there. Then we saw that the path we had taken to get to where we were sitting was quite filled up with water. Scared of falling, and at the same time enjoying ourselves, we made our way through the water. While walking, we heard a lot of people talk, and so got a sense of the many languages spoken by the inhabitants of Bombay.

We got out and had juice. It was evening now, and Haji Ali looked even more beautiful lit up. Then we got to know the story of Haji Ali. A man by the name of Haji Ali went to Saudi Arabia for Haj. He died there. Before dying he asked not to be buried, but for his body to be encased in a wooden casket and that be let into water. And that was what was done. The casket made its way to the sea, here, all the way to Bombay, where it stopped. His shrine was made right here.

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Juhu Beach

We had gone to Juhu Beach at night. As soon as we got there, we took a ride on a ferris wheel. It was being operated by people who jumped and swung from one radiating bar to the next to propel it. All the shops there had taken the form of a restaurant. They were all lined up, and people from every shop were saying, "Come here, the food is very good, you'll get anything you want." Mats were spread on the sand by the stall owners. Which stall you were a customer of depended on which mat you chose to sit on. We all sat on one mat. A boy from the next shop came to us with a menu listed on a sheet of paper. We were just going through the list when another boy from the shop right in fromt of the mat came and told him to remove that piece of paper, that no one would eat from it. The first boy remained quiet. The other boy showed us his list. The owner of the stall from which the first boy had come called out to him and asked him in Bambaiya hindi why he was standing there if we were not going to eat. He went away. Almost all of us had pao bhaji.

It seemed there was a fair on at Juhu Beach. There was a lot of light. All the shops were decorated with lights. We asked one of the people manning the swings why they weren't powered by electricity. He said that was not allowed there. We spoke to him about many things. On every ferris wheel, there were three to four men, making it rotate. There was one man who had been operating a wheel which had no people sitting in it. We felt he was very worried. When we spoke with him he said, "I have many ferris wheels, and I also man a cart during the day. Right now, at this time, no one comes for ride on the wheel. When children see it moving, they come. Otherwise parents think it's out of order."
 
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Mud Island

On hearing the name "Mud Island', we conjured images of England, Switzerland in our minds. On the way there we kept thinking there would be a clean swimming pool there, the kind we often see in films. When we reached there, we were left surprised. Because it was just like Juhu Chaupatti, but cleaner. There was the sea as far as we could see. The rocks in the water looked like there was a crocodile, shining through the waves. When the waves rushed towards us with speed, they brough with them many small things. Among them would be shells of all kinds. The waves would leave them on the shore as if they were entrusting the world with their treasures. And when they would come back, they would carry these back with them. There was no crowd here. We couldn't resist the water. Everyone took off their shoes and went in. And we all bathed in it, for a long, long time. When the sea water would find its way into our mouths, our mouths would become salty.

There were many boats in the sea. In them were women who had loaded the boats with fish and were bringing them ashore. Two to three men were carrying away sack loads of the sand from the shore. Two children were laughing, they seemed rather excessively naughty. One was in a school uniform, and the other in clothes one wears at home.
 
When some of us went to but some coconut water (we had to climb some steps for this), the woman there got angry and started saying, "Baba re baba, why are you coming here? If our employer sees you, he'll scold us. You go back down now." (There hindi was Bambaiya hindi.) We said, give us our coconut water first, then we'll go. We took the water and came back and sat down.

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Chawpatti

We had gone to Chawpatti the very first day. We took off our shoes and put them on a side and went inside the water. On the Chawpatti was a huge white light that seemed to light up the whole island. And because of this light, the colour of the water seemed to be changing. There was quite a crowd here. Some people were sitting around with their families. Some were couples - a boy and a girl sitting togehter. In one place, there was an old man, with two young children. The children were collecting sand and making a house with it. The old man was looking at them with love-filled eyes. It was night, so we couldn;t see very far. Only lights from the houses in tall buildings, and billboards that were lit up. There was a woman sitting next to us. She was roasting ground nuts. She would collect sand from the ground and put it inside the iron utensil which had fire lit under it, and then would put lots of ground nuts in it. Everyone, all of us included, were sitting facing the same direction - our faces were turned towards the sea.

Then bhaiya brought pao bhaji for all of us. We ate it while savouring the waves, the cool breeze and sand. Before this we saw the sun setting. As it set, its colour, and the colour of the sky around it changed. From yellow to orange, then light pink, then dark pink, and then light red. It was the first time we were witnessing a sunset.

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The Aquarium

We bought ourselves tickets and went inside The Aquarium. Here too, there was a big crowd. There were many school children, as also could be seen people with their families. Here there were many kinds of fish. First we saw inanimate objects that had been taken out of the sea. Some were the bodies of of sea animals we had never seen before. When we moved ahead, we saw such a beautiful fish that it filled our hearts with joy. While some people seemed to be looking at the fish with great interest, others were just passing them by cursorily. There were ladies and gents who were walking side by side, as couples. Mostly, people were telling one another about the fish. We could also hear some conversations between people which seemed to be just like those of ruffians straight out of a Bombay movie.
 
We had been looking at the fish for a while now. The boys there also seemed to be quite 'straight', there was no eveteasing of any sort. Our attention went to the man who was checking tickets at the gate. His skin was dark, he had a slight moustache, average height. But his behaviour was not pleasant. Because he was not speaking properly with people. If someone tried to get inside The Aquarium without showing him the ticket, he would start muttering under his breath, and there was absolutely no sign of a smile on his face. Slowly everyone came in through the door and so we could got out. On coming out we saw written there, in big, bold letters, 'The Aquarium'.

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The Fish Market

Fish markets are set up in Bombay also, where different types of fish are sold. Only women can be seen selling fish here. We saw many kinds of faces in the fish market. Some feelings and reflections got associated with the faces we saw there. For instance, a face of joy, that of sorrow, a face that seemed to be making a request, a face that looked quite, thoughtful, lost, a face that seemed to hide what was in the heart. We saw many courageous women.
 
The fish market was stinking. Maybe they didn't think so, afterall selling fish is their work. We could see fish of different types - glittering, black, white, colourful, small, large. Some of their names are - prawns, shark fish, wafer fish, etc. The fish were quite expensive. The women told us, "The men catch the fish and all of us bring them here to sell them." Looking at the women it seemed they manage things from the beginning to the end on their own. The men's work gets hidden behind the efforts of the women. One can't say, looking at them work, that the women need assistance of any kind.
 
All of their attention was focussed on either the fish, or the buyers. The market was quite crowded. Many children were also selling fish there. Most women had oiled their hair and tied a tight bun. They were wearing a saree like a dhoti (a piece of cloth worn around the lower body, one end of which passes between the legs and is tucked in behind). There wasn't a sign of fear that could be spot in these women.
 
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Gateway of India

All of us were very happy when we reached the Gsteway of India. There were ships that we could see till a great distance and these looked very beautiful. Some people were sitting in the ships and communicating with the people they knew using gestures. There were also some shops there. Shops that can be set up just about anywhere. People who had set their shops on the ground were gesturing with their eyes to the passers-by to buy their wares.
 
We read the english words etched on the Gateway of India. They were about a king and a queen.
 
Many pigeons were feeding on grain just in front of the Gateway of India. They were very nice to look at. A slightly old woman was standing there looking at them with great attention. She was smiling, a little, to herself. Maybe she has some memories associated with the pigeons. She was dark of colour, had white hair, short in height, was wearing black shoes and was holdign a black purse like one would carry a baby.

Just like there is the India Gate in Delhi, there is the Gateway of India in Bombay. But we thought the two quite different in that what India Gate has etched on it are the names of people who sacrificed their lives in war and is surrounded by huge lawns for playing, while the Gateway has on it the name of some king and queen, and there are also some big ships in the water behind it. We also got photographs clicked at the Gateway.
 
Just opposite it is the Taj hotel. In Delhi we had heard of the Taj hotel as being very beautiful, but when we saw it with our own eyes, it didn't seem as grand as all that talk had made it out to be. There were glasses that had been placed in front of it, on which water flowed, and that looked very beautiful.
 
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Circus

We went to see the Jumbo circus on January 8. we reached there around 7:00 - 7:30 in the evening. From outside the cisrcus looked just like the one in Delhi - the one that we see on the Red Fort grounds. There were some photographs by way of glimpses to what would be seen inside. There were photographs decorated with big lights inside as well.
 
There was a round stage for the performance of the show. That is just how it is in Delhi as well. The stage, about two thirds of its circumference, was surrounded by chairs. A little space was left for people to be able to move in and out. We got in through the gate and sat down on the chairs in the rows on the left, quite at the back so we were on a bit of an elevation. Once seated, we began to have lots of fun watching the performances.
 
There were many wonderful programmes in the circus. For instance, a boy performed some tricks with his hat, then three girls and three men displayed their skills. One girl performed with many hula hoops, and then a much younger girl repeated the acts, and this was truly wonderful. A boy and a girl were swining from a rope and performed their routine on romantic songs. This was followed by a comedy show. Three men entertained the audience by performing dangerous feats on motor cycles in the 'well of death'. Some elephants got together to pray to lord Shiva. The accompaniment of lights and music made all the performances all the more entertaining.
 
In the very end, we saw a trapeze show which we really liked. On seeing the performance we realised that there existed a relationship of fear between the performers and the spectators, a relationship involving the skill of the performers, and leading to the entertainement of the spectators.
 
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Articles, photographs, design, layout by the Ibarat team at the Compughar, Cybermohalla

Ibarat team: Azra Tabassum, Mehrunnisa, Shamsher Ali, Suraj Rai, Shahjehan, Nilofer, Yashodha Singh, Bobby Khan, Babli Rai, Shahana Qureshi.

They can be contacted at compughar@sarai.net

Translation: Shveta Sarda