Remembering a First Class gentleman
By Mac Haque
Nina’s mail on the Siyalbukka picnic reminded me that I had somehow mixed up the dates, and yes indeed my father was there. It was the Ramgarh picnic that he missed as he was away in Switzerland, and myself, Nina and Amma were being looked after by Naqui borabba in Chittagong.
Nina as such was already based in Chittagong studying at St.Mary’s School and dad considered it a natural thing to move me and Mum during his absence, because I had by that time picked up a few choice ‘gaaliz’ from the Macchapara kids in Naryanagang, and he feared that in six months time when he would be out of the country, I ‘d be quite a spoilt brat – if I was not one already!
In any case, in Ramgarh we had a cricket match and Akhter ka bowled me out after I had scored only one run, but what I will forever remember was the ride back to Chittagong on Noqui borabba’s Hino Contessa car (at that time the only one in East Pakistan). I’d exploit any opportunity to hitch a ride in that almost ‘noiseless’ Japanese car and I remember telling Babu pahaty excitedly what a fantastic car it was. So it was no surprise that on the way back Pahaty safely tucked himself in the front seat with Munnni while me Chachi amma and Amma were piled in the back set.
Pahaty was a man of very high appreciation for the good life and as soon as we started he went on his customary ‘First Class’ exclamations from way the car accelerated, and the gears were shifted to the brakes – and this went on for a good 45 minutes, till Noqui Borrabba suddenly braked hard when he realised to his horror that the cricket cap he was wearing had been left behind. He was disconsolate as there was a sentimental value attached to it. He had purchased the cap when he first went to see a Pakistan-West Indies test in the Dhaka stadium.
Babu Pahaty however reassured him that somebody will find it and bring it back – and sure enough an hour after when we reached Chittagong somebody in the bus had the cap, and all was fine. Ofcourse Pahaty never forgot to commend the hat wearing it briefly and saying ‘Noqui this is a First Class cap’!
Babu Pahty was a man of impeccable taste, from the dazzlingly clean shirts he wore, to the finely ironed pants or the shining shoes he purchased from EPSI and polished himself (‘no show Maqsood but First Class and they last’), to the way he shaved his face, and his well coiffured hair – he was somebody to emulate.
As time passed we became close and I remember during Sadek ka’s wedding in Chittagong he was all for letting our hair down and having a blast. He would occasionally pop in to the second floor of the house in Kalshi (which we had converted to a discotheque and smoking room) to see the sound system that Sadek ka had managed to bring over from a Chittagonian friend and which we blasted till kingdom come in the 4 days of non-stop partying that went with the marriage. He was curious to a fault, and wanted to know the finer side of this new dancing we called ‘disco’ in those days – also the new Music from the WoodStock festival and the album full of photographs they contained! He had his own idea of entertainment and arranged for an all night quawali session that we all enjoyed.
It was however in Sabuka’s wedding with Narzi that I was in a spot.
On the one hand Kutubda and family with whom I literally grew up with, Saadi, Narzi, Bhaity, Husna and Tanzin insisting that I need to be with them at 'all times', and Babu Pahaty pulling me aside and telling me ever so firmly, "toi kintu dora ghoror – monot rakhibi" – so I ended up making select appearances at both dora and koina ghor without either side ever knowing where my true allegiance lay: until I masterminded the stealing of Sabuka’s wedding shoes!
Babu pahaty as usual as always forgave my prank but we started becoming closer then we were, when he discovered that I had a fascination for politics among other things. We would spend hours discussing the military dictatorship and I realized he was a person who had a finely analytical mind and predicted many things – which I vehemently disagreed with at that time – but now have the proof that he was always …..bang on the nose correct.
He was a man of healthy habits, and when I was confined with typhoid at home for 3 months he would often come by and spend better part of the day, telling me the basic do’s and don’ts. Things like Yogic breathing (which I practise to this day), about the ‘koepin’ or proper use of under garments, and never to get fixated with one brand of toothpaste among others.
Very rarely had I heard of Babu Pahaty being ill, other that a festering sore toe infection, which he made a habit of cleaning, and applying a powder every evening. This had to do something with playing football with boots in his school days and other than him my father suffered the same fate all his life, as did Pahaty …so whenever they both met, several minutes would be spent talking about their foot itch among others!
Yet when father died in 1987, Pahaty was nowhere to be seen. He sent message to me through Pahity that he was disconsolate and if it would be possible for me to go and see him. I did so 2 days later and both of us broke down. It was a private moment, and there was nobody at home, but I can still vividly remember the great strength he gave me by his soothing words of comfort.
Not long after one evening I got disturbing news that Pahaty is not well and has been in the clinic for a few days. I brushed this aside as he was in the Ibn-e-Sina Clinic in 1984 with a stomach and urine ailment, and when he recovered he felt it was an ‘unnecessary thing’ that the family did (i.e. admitting him in a clinic).
The next day after my rehearsals at the hotel Inter Continental, I thought of going over to see Mr.First Class. I called home to Pallabi, but nobody could tell me the name of the clinic.
In any case I decided to drive to Pahaty's in Siddheswari - and in no time I could see an ambulance in front of me headed in the general direction of his house. As I tailed it, sure enough in the back seat of the ambulnace my cars headlight caught what I thought was the silhouette of Pahity – and I was glad Pahaty was returning home.
Parking the car was always a problem near Pahaty’s house, so I decided it keep it inside the compound of my friend Dastagir whose house was just 5 minutes walking distance.
All the while, I was dreaming up some wisecrack to share with Pahaty and Pahity and as I entered the lane, I could see the ambulance pulling out. I was glad Pahaty was home and that I did not have to go and see him in the clinic.
I met Sadek ka at the doorstep and asked him how Pahaty was doing and seeing me in such a jolly mood all he said was ‘Maqsood go in’. Still in jest I said ‘well I hope he is in good health and made his dramatic recovery – which I am sure he has’.
Sadek ka this time was somber – he repeated ‘Maqsood toi bhitorolay jaa’.
Perplexed I walked in – and mentally prepared I may have been for anything – I was not prepared to see my dearv Pahaty covered head to foot in a shroud.
Pahaty the First Class man had departed planet Earth. I was the first Auhomia on the scene, other than the family to have to witness his dead body.
I felt let down - but then what an honourably 'First Class' way to go!
Nina’s mail on the Siyalbukka picnic reminded me that I had somehow mixed up the dates, and yes indeed my father was there. It was the Ramgarh picnic that he missed as he was away in Switzerland, and myself, Nina and Amma were being looked after by Naqui borabba in Chittagong.
Nina as such was already based in Chittagong studying at St.Mary’s School and dad considered it a natural thing to move me and Mum during his absence, because I had by that time picked up a few choice ‘gaaliz’ from the Macchapara kids in Naryanagang, and he feared that in six months time when he would be out of the country, I ‘d be quite a spoilt brat – if I was not one already!
In any case, in Ramgarh we had a cricket match and Akhter ka bowled me out after I had scored only one run, but what I will forever remember was the ride back to Chittagong on Noqui borabba’s Hino Contessa car (at that time the only one in East Pakistan). I’d exploit any opportunity to hitch a ride in that almost ‘noiseless’ Japanese car and I remember telling Babu pahaty excitedly what a fantastic car it was. So it was no surprise that on the way back Pahaty safely tucked himself in the front seat with Munnni while me Chachi amma and Amma were piled in the back set.
Pahaty was a man of very high appreciation for the good life and as soon as we started he went on his customary ‘First Class’ exclamations from way the car accelerated, and the gears were shifted to the brakes – and this went on for a good 45 minutes, till Noqui Borrabba suddenly braked hard when he realised to his horror that the cricket cap he was wearing had been left behind. He was disconsolate as there was a sentimental value attached to it. He had purchased the cap when he first went to see a Pakistan-West Indies test in the Dhaka stadium.
Babu Pahaty however reassured him that somebody will find it and bring it back – and sure enough an hour after when we reached Chittagong somebody in the bus had the cap, and all was fine. Ofcourse Pahaty never forgot to commend the hat wearing it briefly and saying ‘Noqui this is a First Class cap’!
Babu Pahty was a man of impeccable taste, from the dazzlingly clean shirts he wore, to the finely ironed pants or the shining shoes he purchased from EPSI and polished himself (‘no show Maqsood but First Class and they last’), to the way he shaved his face, and his well coiffured hair – he was somebody to emulate.
As time passed we became close and I remember during Sadek ka’s wedding in Chittagong he was all for letting our hair down and having a blast. He would occasionally pop in to the second floor of the house in Kalshi (which we had converted to a discotheque and smoking room) to see the sound system that Sadek ka had managed to bring over from a Chittagonian friend and which we blasted till kingdom come in the 4 days of non-stop partying that went with the marriage. He was curious to a fault, and wanted to know the finer side of this new dancing we called ‘disco’ in those days – also the new Music from the WoodStock festival and the album full of photographs they contained! He had his own idea of entertainment and arranged for an all night quawali session that we all enjoyed.
It was however in Sabuka’s wedding with Narzi that I was in a spot.
On the one hand Kutubda and family with whom I literally grew up with, Saadi, Narzi, Bhaity, Husna and Tanzin insisting that I need to be with them at 'all times', and Babu Pahaty pulling me aside and telling me ever so firmly, "toi kintu dora ghoror – monot rakhibi" – so I ended up making select appearances at both dora and koina ghor without either side ever knowing where my true allegiance lay: until I masterminded the stealing of Sabuka’s wedding shoes!
Babu pahaty as usual as always forgave my prank but we started becoming closer then we were, when he discovered that I had a fascination for politics among other things. We would spend hours discussing the military dictatorship and I realized he was a person who had a finely analytical mind and predicted many things – which I vehemently disagreed with at that time – but now have the proof that he was always …..bang on the nose correct.
He was a man of healthy habits, and when I was confined with typhoid at home for 3 months he would often come by and spend better part of the day, telling me the basic do’s and don’ts. Things like Yogic breathing (which I practise to this day), about the ‘koepin’ or proper use of under garments, and never to get fixated with one brand of toothpaste among others.
Very rarely had I heard of Babu Pahaty being ill, other that a festering sore toe infection, which he made a habit of cleaning, and applying a powder every evening. This had to do something with playing football with boots in his school days and other than him my father suffered the same fate all his life, as did Pahaty …so whenever they both met, several minutes would be spent talking about their foot itch among others!
Yet when father died in 1987, Pahaty was nowhere to be seen. He sent message to me through Pahity that he was disconsolate and if it would be possible for me to go and see him. I did so 2 days later and both of us broke down. It was a private moment, and there was nobody at home, but I can still vividly remember the great strength he gave me by his soothing words of comfort.
Not long after one evening I got disturbing news that Pahaty is not well and has been in the clinic for a few days. I brushed this aside as he was in the Ibn-e-Sina Clinic in 1984 with a stomach and urine ailment, and when he recovered he felt it was an ‘unnecessary thing’ that the family did (i.e. admitting him in a clinic).
The next day after my rehearsals at the hotel Inter Continental, I thought of going over to see Mr.First Class. I called home to Pallabi, but nobody could tell me the name of the clinic.
In any case I decided to drive to Pahaty's in Siddheswari - and in no time I could see an ambulance in front of me headed in the general direction of his house. As I tailed it, sure enough in the back seat of the ambulnace my cars headlight caught what I thought was the silhouette of Pahity – and I was glad Pahaty was returning home.
Parking the car was always a problem near Pahaty’s house, so I decided it keep it inside the compound of my friend Dastagir whose house was just 5 minutes walking distance.
All the while, I was dreaming up some wisecrack to share with Pahaty and Pahity and as I entered the lane, I could see the ambulance pulling out. I was glad Pahaty was home and that I did not have to go and see him in the clinic.
I met Sadek ka at the doorstep and asked him how Pahaty was doing and seeing me in such a jolly mood all he said was ‘Maqsood go in’. Still in jest I said ‘well I hope he is in good health and made his dramatic recovery – which I am sure he has’.
Sadek ka this time was somber – he repeated ‘Maqsood toi bhitorolay jaa’.
Perplexed I walked in – and mentally prepared I may have been for anything – I was not prepared to see my dearv Pahaty covered head to foot in a shroud.
Pahaty the First Class man had departed planet Earth. I was the first Auhomia on the scene, other than the family to have to witness his dead body.
I felt let down - but then what an honourably 'First Class' way to go!
posted by Mac Haque at 6:23 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home