Habib Khan, Quetta: I like the term “picture in picture” not for its function but just for its name as it echoes our “holiday in holiday” –the concept of going on a holiday during retired life.
In January 2018, we embarked on a journey from Quetta to visit the famous ‘Wall of Sindh’ in Ranikot. After picnicking at the Bolan Pass, we spent the first night in Thul near Jacobabad. The next day, we visited the Palace of Khairpur in Kot Diji and enjoyed the food at roadside hotels before reaching Sehwan, where we stayed at a comfortable place to rest and refresh for the next day’s full-day trip to Ranikot.
We agreed to have a good breakfast at a roadside hotel on our way to Sunn (from where we would leave the main road and head toward Ranikot), skip lunch since nothing would be available in the Ranikot area, and have an early dinner once we returned to the main road. For me, a good breakfast meant simple fried eggs with parathas, while others requested something spicy. However, when our order arrived, the waiter placed a bowl of scrambled eggs in front of me. I objected, stating that I had wanted fried eggs, but the cook insisted that the scrambled eggs were in fact fried eggs! This sparked an argument between us, until he probably understood what I wanted and burst out laughing, throwing his head back and pointing at me with his palm, as if saying, “Look at this fool!” He exclaimed, “Baba, hun kay huff fry chondo ahan” (“That is called huff fry”). I conceded and ordered the “huff fry” instead.
Meanwhile, my friends were laughing uncontrollably, and when I asked them later what was so funny, they replied, “Your Sindhi.” I explained that I make an effort to use local languages wherever possible, even if minor misunderstandings do occur.
Nonetheless, I still didn’t understand the purpose or history of Ranikot which is said to have been built by the Talpur dynasty in the 19th century. I wondered why would someone build a 30km wall over the hills as late as 200 years ago? What were they protecting, and from whom, and that too during the age of destructive artillery?
However, what we learnt about the slogan “Marsoon Marsoon Sindh na desoon” was that it wasn’t a product of the current era; it originated from the Talpur dynasty who used it to express their desire to protect Sindh from the invading British forces. We’ll leave the historical debate for another time and concentrate on the funny events at the roadside hotels.
The next morning, Abdul Khaliq requested that everyone remain quiet while he ordered breakfast to avoid any confusion. We agreed, and at a different hotel, he called the table boy and began to explain our order. “Take an egg,” he said in Lucknowi Urdu, shaping his fingers into an egg, although his Sindhi was much better than mine, but he choose to use Urdu for some reason.
Then, Abdul Khaliq explained how to put fresh oil into the frying pan, avoid overheating the oil to prevent the edges from burning, and keep the yolk runny, among other tips. The table boy listened calmly to Abdul Khaliq’s detailed instructions, and when he finished, the boy simply said, “Anda nahi hai” (we don’t have eggs). This sparked loud laughter, and when Osman asked the boy why he didn’t mention the unavailability of eggs earlier, the boy replied that Sir’s explanation was so engaging that he couldn’t interrupt him.
Another lesson we learned during this “holiday in holiday” was that “doing nothing” in the land of the pure (Pakistan) was not just a problem, but a crime as well. When entering Balochistan from Sindh, we encountered a queue, and the Frontier Corps guards on duty asked few questions before allowing the vehicles to pass. However, there was no obstruction to the flow of traffic until we reached the checkpoint.
“‘Kya kaam karte ho”? (What do you do)’ the guard asked, and when I replied “Kuch Nahi” (Nothing), he became agitated, ordering his guards to inspect the car and instructing us to exit and open the boot. My partners began to comply, but I told them to calm down and showed my army engineer card (see note below) to the guard.
Embarrassingly, he said to me, ‘Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?’ I responded, ‘You didn’t even ask for an introduction; you asked what I did, and I told you the truth.’
We then agreed that we needed to provide some explanation to the potential future guards.
As I was conducting management trainings at the time, I said I was a teacher. Abdul Khaliq claimed to be a shopkeeper, Niaz Baloch said he was a working sports trainer and coach, but Osman couldn’t think of a profession for himself. Niaz jokingly suggested that we hand Osman over to the guards to be punished for the crime of ‘”doing nothing” in the mumlikat e khudadad.
Note: During the 70s, fresh engineers and doctors who serve in the military for two years would get him/her an identity “card.”
