Chedis

It had been a busy day.

There had been a continuous flow of student groups which had been coming in droves. It was always the same in July when the “freshies” came to the campus and most groups had two or three seniors herding a bunch of seven or eight freshers. Ragging period was a busy time and Bhutto did not enjoy this one month. His days became busier than he would have liked.

Not that he had much else to do at other times. It was work and sleep mostly and only rarely did he indulge in any other activity. It had always been like this simply because he did not really know any other life.

Bhutto could have been thirteen or he could have been thirty – it was impossible to say. Stunted growth, forgettable features, dark complexion, and irritable temper…….these were the characteristics which made him what he was. But against all odds, Bhutto was arguably one of the most remembered and loved characters on the campus, his fame surpassed only by that of his employer Chedi Bhai.

Chedi was a middle aged rough man with a pockmarked face and owned the “dhaba”. The “dhaba” was not more than a mud and bamboo shack with about half a dozen rough hand assembled tables and benches placed in front of it, dim lighting inside the structure and the outside was served by the streetlight or moon light, if the streetlight failed to cooperate. The only chair in the establishment was occupied by Chedi, who was virtually a permanent fixture. It was rumoured that the chair had never been seen empty. Some believed that the chair had become part of Chedi who apparently never left the shop for home.

The dhaba was open 24X7 and was the place to go to at all times of the day or night – especially at night. Situated adjacent to the railway level crossing, it was the first establishment (though unofficial) of the engineering institute. It was strategically placed – far enough from the hostels not to draw attention to the unauthorized nature of the establishment yet near enough to attract the student clientele.

It could cater to the students, the rickshaw pullers, the vendors and the odd truck driver who happened to be taking the route through the campus. Many a group of freshers had witnessed the sunrise there after a long night of pursuit of knowledge about the culture of the institute as opposed to the curriculum. It was an important location for one of the several rites of passage for the students.

It also catered to those inclined towards the game of chance since it was also one of the local “Satta” (a form of gambling) centers. Many an inebriated soul would stop at the dhaba to replenish the bodily fluids with a cup of tea as would also some of those who had partaken of the gaseous cousin of liquor - “ganja”- at the nearby Shiv Mandir.

In spite of such varied clientele the dhaba was as safe as a church and no one remembered any fighting or other such undesirable acts at the place. When a particularly bad case of intoxication sought refuge, Chedi would discreetly take him towards the back of the structure and wash his head with cold water until the poor guy felt well.

The dhaba did not have a varied fare. All it served was multiple combinations of eggs, bread and potatoes, tea and not much else. Whatever was leftover from the night was thrown together into the wok, fried and served as one of the items of breakfast popularly known as “Idi Amin”!

In spite of this, at no time of the day or night was the dhaba without a couple of clients. The loyalty of the clients lasted well beyond the time of their stay at the institute hostels. Invariably, any old student who happened to be returning to his alma mater for a visit would have a visit to the dhaba as a part of his itinerary. Usually it would be the first item on the list. A French toast and a glass of tea later, he would continue on his journey.

Bhutto watched the proceedings with disinterest – he had seen it too many times over the years. The same stupid questions (though he did not understand as they were in English) were repeated year after year, the same scared faces of the freshers – none of them held any interest for him. All that mattered was that the demands would be greater on his time, the small tea glasses would have to washed again and again, the prospect of “sunrise over Chedis” repeating day after day would be real – no fun for him!

But the one thing that irked him the most was when one of the seniors showing off before the juniors would say – “Bhutto! I love you!” Then the expletives would pour out – under his breath, and it would cause even more mirth! He did not see the funny side of it and there was no reason for him to.

Nobody really knew how Bhutto landed up at his current position. Apparently, no one had really seen him grow up there and there were various claims from different batches as to when he first appeared on the scene. Some people claimed that Chedi Bhai had found the orphan at the roadside and had taken him under his wing like a son. Not having any idea apart from training him to work at his dhaba, he went about the training as best as he could.

Now Bhutto was a inseparable part of Chedis and had been so for long. Bhutto also probably knew no other family other than Chedi Bhai. And, for sure, he knew no other life. No one could authenticate the story because all queries about this were parried by a disarming smile from Chedi Bhai, who neither confirmed nor denied the story.

For such a rough looking man, Chedi had a really soft voice and a smile which made his face light up.

Many well thinking individuals would shake their heads and mutter – child labour, right to education and so on and so forth. They do mean well! But realities are very different. And harsh!

Not many would have picked up a poor orphan from the streets and given him an opportunity to live – may not be the quality of life that we take for granted, but at least an opportunity to be able to live and maybe improve his lot sometime in the future.

I can assure you that it was not about exploitation – Chedi Bhai could have had many people to work for him – our social inequities ensure that. But Bhutto was working for him was because that was the means at Chedi’s disposal. That was the opportunity that Chedi was able to provide – his own lifestyle was no great shakes!

As for education, there is a story – like most stories associated with Chedi, not really verifiable and whose source is hidden in the mists of time – which gives us insight into the reasons why Chedi Bhai did not provide the means for education for Bhutto. It seems that once Chedi noticed the wistful look in the eyes of Bhutto when he saw students biking to class with notebooks.

Bhutto did not really know what happened in the institute but the sight of so many smart young men going together in pursuit of something he did not understand made him want to join in.

Chedi did not say anything but the look troubled him. Not being educated himself, he did not really appreciate the value of education except that it provided good business for him. At the same time, he did not want to deny the desire of the child. He also knew that he would neither be able to assist Bhutto with his education, nor be able to afford it in the long run. The circumstances were not just right for the sudden surge of righteousness!

After a few days, Chedi noticed two “spirited” students staggering by – barely able to walk and falling over a number of times along their way. As usual, he got them to the back of his shack, and washed their heads and gave them a glass of tea before sending them on their way – a little sobered up.

While not saying anything directly to Bhutto, he kept muttering under his breath “Education! This is what happens!”. Bhutto heard this remark, as was intended to, and got the message. Not factually on the button, it served to remove a largish bit of his desire to study.

Another incident, more realistic, drove the final nail in the coffin. One day a group of students came to the shack to have tea and something to eat. It was late, in fact, it was the wee hours of morning, and Bhutto was tired from serving. So was the cook. But it did not matter to the students – one in particular. When the tea came, later than usual, it was not really piping hot. While some of the group started to crib, one guy took it upon himself to express the collective displeasure of the group.

He called Bhutto, started shouting about the quality of the tea and finally threw his glass across the road. Chedi stepped in to manage the situation but after they were gone he started muttering to himself – “What good does education do? Does it teach consideration? Or manners?”

The shake of his head and the ugliness of the act removed all desire for education from the mind of the kid. It also resulted in sustained contempt for all students in him. Misplaced emotions maybe, but can we really judge?

Bhutto’s life may not have been remarkable in the conventional sense but most people of the institute of the time would recall him at the first utterance of his name. He was but one of the millions of faceless, nameless kids who grow old doing the same things that they do every day, no future to look forward to, no past worth remembering and die unsung. Bhutto was no different. He was last seen at Chedis a few years ago but his whereabouts today are not known.

Maybe he is older, and wizened, serving tea and omelettes in some other shack at some other place! But he had a role in the making of a large number of future CEOs, Directors and so on who survived the rigors of the institute fortified by the numerous cups of tea and the French toasts at Chedis, served at all hours of the day and night by a surly Bhutto.

As for Chedi Bhai, he grew old, still providing sustenance to batches of bright students round the clock till he was also hit by the change in social structures. Children from nuclear families, who grow up in a protected environment, avoided Chedis as unhygienic. The institute placed guards to stop the movement of students outside the campus with a gate such that Chedis was no more part of the campus.

A host of glitzy eating joints nearer to the hostels sounded the death knell for the popular shack. But with characteristic resilience, Chedi Bhai somehow managed to keep his joint going with a different set of clients from the new establishments had come up on the other side of the level crossing. The place still retained the charm for the old timers for who it was a pilgrimage of sorts.

Chedis came into the limelight briefly again with the news of passing of Chedi Bhai. But it was not the same! Chedi Bhai’s eyes always lit up when old timers visited him. But something had changed.

His “family” of students had deserted him in his later years. More importantly, Bhutto had left him.

Chedi never took another orphan under his wing!