For me, going to panchvati slum every week became a ritual to feed my soul with my dreams and ambition to serve the needy. Amongst all my friends, I was one of the most regular in visiting panchvati. As I described earlier, panchvati was a typical slum with all the bad and a few good qualities. to be good friends was one of such good qualities they had. As our visits became regular, people started trusting us more. many became our friends and started sharing about their life.
Most of the people of panchvati worked in the farms nearby. Some had little jobs at karamsad. Many were not employed at all.so It was nothing surprising to see some one jobless. however, those which worked, they had to work very hard to earn their bread and butter.
While most of the workers looked tired in the evening, There was one man of around 50 yrs, which looked afresh most of the times. also, he had better hut and better clothes than his counter parts. his hut was just in front of our slum clinic. i really wondered as to what he was doing to make such a living?
" hey, kaka,may i ask you a personal question? what do you do for living?" one day i asked him ultimately, when he was leisurely passing by our clinic.
" me? " he stopped.
"yes kaka. i never have seen you working. how do you make living?" i exclaimed my curiosity completly to him.
he stood still for a while. might be he was hesitant to reveal. probably he might be a retired man living on his son's income that he disliked to reveal i guessed. i felt my question was too personal and intrudive. i thought i should not have asked such a personal question.
after a few seconds he made up his mind to reveal the secret. "my son, do you know? when i was young, there was a great leader..."
-leader of his times? hey, what is he up to? would he talk about some swamiji? a bhagat? or might be ganghiji? no no. he might not even know gandhiji. his talk made me more eager.
" yes kaka.."i said trying to hide my curiosity.
" his name was javaharlal nehru.." wow! kaka knew nehru! what a blow!
"he used to tell all the indians to go back to villages and start gruh udyog (small scale business managed totally at home). this would uplift not only your family but also your village and the state and the nation ultimately..." he gestured totality with both of his hands to mark his point.
"so my son, i decided to start a gruh udyog here. that is what i do for living..." he smiled. i never knew he was such a great man! His hut was just in front of our clinic and we were totally unaware of his gruh udyog. but what exactly was he doing? should i ask him to show us? his talk gave me more confidence.
" that is simply great kaka! we never knew it! but can you allow us to see your gruh udyog?" i was eager to see and so i asked him.
Again he looked in a bit confusion. might be, he was doing some gruh udyog like making papad or khakhra that is mainly percieved as women's work and so he was again hesitant. again he needed some more time to think on my demand. probably he was making up his mind to say no.
" okay son i will show you what gruh udyog i run." he agreed.
" thanks a lot kaka! may we, i and my friend tapasvi come with you right now?" i jumped immediately.
" that will not be feasible. you can come next week when next time you come here in your clinic.you need to come in the late evening." it was difficult to wait till next visit but there was no option.
Usually, we worked at panchvati in evening. After finishing our routine clinic or some community work, we used to return to our hostel at around 7.30 pm. we could visit kaka after that time.
that evening, while returning from panchvati, curiosity about kaka's gruh udyog had studded my mind. i and tapasvi talked about the kaka on the way wondering about his gruh udyog. the man was really great as he came to his village just for following advice of our great first prime minister.
and again the day came. i and tapasvi both were eager to reach to panchvati and go to kaka's hut to see his gruh udyog. both of us started our routine work. while examining patients, suddenly we heard a big cry outside. the voice was of some old lady. both of us ran out side our hut clinic along with our other friends.the cry was from the next street. we ran in that direction.
we saw an old lady of about sixty loudly cursing her husband for something.she was standing outside her hut and her old husband was on char pai -cot- sitting loosely with dirty clothes. the grandma was shouting and her husband who appeared half asleep, was probably not listening to her at all! to our surprise nobody but it was only us who ran out for the shouting.
we all were puzzled as to what to do. a local from nearby hut came to us to solve our confusion.
" just leave them..." he gestured at the old couple." both of them are drunk and this is their daily business..." damn! what kind of people they were! drunk every evening and quarreling?As i saw them again i immediately recognized the grandma. she was none other than one which was coming to our hostel in evening to sell carrots cucumber and tomatoes.she used to sit at the big gate of our girl's hostel and was very popular amongst girls. all used to call her "masi". she was very keen in observing the boys and girls. some times her awkward comments were enough to give a spark to quarrel.it was her routine to come to our campus daily.
and here she was buying liquor daily from that money she earned from the hostels! really, such kind of people waste even something they have. it was pity she and her husband both could get the liquor. some one must be supplying the whole area. home service like milk man!
masi's shouting lessened, as she started crying.for all the neighbors, this was probably routine. no one seemed concerned about her crying. rather, some people were smiling looking at the poor old lady.
i had heard about the ill effects of liquor- physical economical and here i was witnessing social. i felt liquor must be banned. no one should be able to get it. for masi, apart from witnessing her sorrows, we were unable help. gradually her crying lessened and we went back to our work. we felt very sorry for the old couple.yes, we forgot kaka's invitation to go to see his gruh udyog because of this mess. we remembered suddenly when we were packing up our clinic.
"hey,tapasvi we almost forgot kaka's invitation today. let us go." i told tapasvi
"yes. that masi's cry made us forget even our souls! it still hurts inside.any way, let us go to kaka." said tapasvi.
kaka was sitting outside his hut on char pai in his routine clothes. he was expecting us. he stood up as he saw us coming.
" ram ram kaka." we greeted him.
"ram ram. come here with me." kaka gestured to come into his hut.
his hut was a typical one of a slum with a few steps to climb to enter a chali outside. the door was little smaller than needed for an average adult to enter. i had to bend my head but tall tapasvi needed to bend whole of his body to pass from the door!
there was small main room poorly lit with tungsten bulb. there hardly was any furniture. walls were studded with photos of different gods and goddesses. a kitchen was attached to main room that hardly could accommodate a person.there was small window in the main room.
kaka guided us further in again from a small door. the room we entered had no windows to my surprise. kaka stopped near a steel drum of about half a meter hight. the drum was kept on a chulha. fire was lit with sticks below. smoke was filling up the whole room from the burning sticks. drum was tightly closed and a pipe was coming out towards a glass bottle kept at some distance from the chulha. some clear liquid was coming out from the open end of the pipe along with some steam. a white big funnel was kept to stop spillage outside the bottle.
" now tell me boys isn't it like your laboratory in your college?" said kaka in proud voice. "when i was young, javaharlal nehru told the youth to go back to their villages and start their own gruh udyog." he went near his assembly and put his hand under the end of the pipe to get a few drops of the liquid he was making.
"see? it is pure!" he showed his hand to us.
"what is this kaka?" looking at the hand smeared with the liquid, i inquired.it was smelling bad like a hell.
"don't you know? this is liquor!" kaka opened up the damn secret! so this was his gruh udyog! it was nothing unbelievable but surely it was unexpected. tapasvi looked less surprised than me may be because he had seen mone villages than me.i really was surprised.kaka, a hero for me just before a few minutes suddenly turned villain! he might have his own excuses for staring such a devilish production center. but no excuse can be entertained for any work that can ruin lives of other poor people.
" i will show you how to check when it is perfectly ready." kaka started enjoying his show. "i learnt all this when i was young at ahmedabad." he extended a small container under the open end of the pipe to get a few drops in it. he put it on the floor and lit it with a match stick. biff! the liquid caught fire immediately.
" can you see? if it is ready and pure, it will immediately catch fire.i take utmost care for the quality." kaka explained his deep knowledge.with a blow of air from his mouth, he extinguished the fire.
" when nehru told the youth, i was wondering as to what could be done by me at my village. then i learnt this. this is my small scale business." he was as proud as any self made business man. i and tapasvi both were speechless. technically, kaka had created a wonder despite the fact that he never had seen a school. but morally, was he right? the law of land in gujarat would not permit sell or making of liquor. but what would we say if an industrialist starts an official plant of making wine out side gujarat? lawful? simply because he could throw money to make it lawful? difficult question to answer.
kaka showed his business with zeal.thank heavens, he did not offer us free treat of his pure product!
now i could understand from where did the masi and her husband got the ticket to hell. in fact, On the way from panchvati to our hostel, we used to see a lot of whitish empty plastic bags. I wondered about those bags. In those days, plastic bags were not as commonly seen as today. In fact, the plastic revolution had not started yet.I had seen such bags, as I remembered, in bad lonely streets of bhuj. Some of my friends had told me such bags were used to pack locally made liquor. There used to have very typical rotten grape or jaggery like smell in the air around areas where such bags were thrown. Same smell and same bags were seen on the way back from panchvati to our hostel. the major waste seen in and around the ugly pond was of these bags.
naturally when production was local, it was very easy to get. but weren't they worried of police and jail? not at all. gradually it came our knowledge police used to come to panchvati, not to arrest people but to get hapta! so no tension for those making or taking! some times they used to stop their business for sometime to restart again after new setting. we heard that panchvati was notorious for this and they were supplying to even agents at ahmedabad!!
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