Back to the Village of My Birth

Ishtiaq Ahmed

Gujar Khan (Part 1): On my latest return to Pakistan, I am residing in the village of my in-laws, where I also spent my childhood in the early 1960s before accompanying my father to the UK at the tender age of 10. Many years have passed, but the memories of those’ good old days’ continue to provide me with an affection-filled reference to my childhood days.

The village life in Pakistan has very much changed, and in some cases, beyond recognition, for some of us residing abroad and only returning for short, quick visits after prolonged absences. Every time I return, I find that life has somewhat moved forward and I am only playing a ‘catching up’ game. I find that life here is as ‘on fast track’ as anywhere else.The other day, we were all sitting after the evening meal. The absence of conversation was very noticeable, as everyone was either glued to the TV or their mobile. I couldn’t help taking a trip down memory lane to the winter evenings of my childhood spent huddled around a stove placed in the middle of the room. The women sat next to it, forming a small circle, and the men were sitting on chaar-pais. We young ones squeezed in whenever we could find a space.

Neighbours and friends gathered to talk randomly about anything and everything, sharing and delighting in harmless village gossip occasionally over a hot cup of tea to counter the winter cold. We young ones set around listening, feeling bemused, fascinated, and intrigued, often not connecting with the multiple conversations taking place. Radios, TVs, and mobiles were unheard of. A few households possessed radios, but these were not common. Having a radio in the house was treated as a prized possession. We had a radio in our house, bought by my father on his return from the UK.

This was the only radio in my village of birth during the 1965 Pakistan-India war. I remember people from the village gathering at our house to listen to the nine o’clock news read by a famous newsreader, Anwar Bazaat, followed by the national address by President Ayub on the unfolding of the war.The village life circled around two farming seasons and a relatively free time in between. The harvesting times were the most fascinating. Everything was done by hand. There was no machinery. The crops were cut, gathered, and shredded manually. The entire family—men, women, and children—joins in to help. Often, other people in the village also helped. This was shared labour, shared effort, and shared rewards.

The village life was interdependent, self-sufficient, and very much contained. All the necessary skills—blacksmith, carpenter, and builder—were to be found in the village. For medicine, people relied on local, home-made remedies that were tried and tested and handed down from generation to generation to cure the health conditions of humans and animals. Visits to doctors, vets, and hospitals were rare and avoided most of the time.

People lived a simple life, attending to their fields and their livestock of oxen, cows, buffaloes, goats, donkeys, camels, horses, chickens, and other useful birds, for example, pigeons and quails.Oxen were used for ploughing fields; cows and buffaloes for milk and meat; goats for milk and meat; camels and donkeys for carrying goods and horses for transport, a rare possession for the relatively well-off.

A few families had bicycles, considered a rare prized possession, mainly for those who had to travel daily for work, such as teachers, bank employees, government employees, shopkeepers, or those who worked in nearby towns.

The hot summer days were spent with men either taking a short nap or gathering under the shade of a tree to do knitting, embroidery, and crochet work. Most courtyards had trees for shade. These gatherings dispersed around afternoon tea time when women went to attend to their daily household chores, which also included feeding and milking animals.

Most people lived a life confined to their village. Visiting a local town was rare and necessity-based. These outings were no more than a few times a year for shopping for Eid family weddings or attending some land-related official business.The entertainment was based around local events often arranged during the free season, which included kabaddi matches, oxon races, naiza-bazi, dog fights, arm wrestling, weight lifting, etc. Almost all entertainment events were farming-related. It is fascinating to note that many of these activities are seeing an organised revival.

People also looked forward to ‘Mela events, annual funfairs usually linked to local religious shrines. The two in our area were Jabbar and Jand Melo. Melas offered a welcomed entertainment respite for people from their daily chores and opportunities to connect with friends, walk around stalls of sweetmeats and other local delicacies, partake in sporting events, and enjoy musical performances by Qawalis and Sher Khawani. These calendar events continue to be enjoyed even today.In the 1960s, opportunities opened up for men of working age to travel to the UK for work. Hundreds of thousands travelled, first men and then followed by their wives and children in the 1970s. The income earned in Britain was used to support families, build or upgrade houses, and acquire new facilities. The introduction of electricity, even in remote areas, made it possible for people to introduce electrical household items such as fridges, irons, hot water appliances, and televisions. The traditional methods of farming were slowly replaced by machines. The digital age opened up a new world to people, widening and raising their aspirations. In Part 2, I will share my observations on the social impact of these developments. Pictures are representational. 

Picture credit: Shazia Mehboob & Ishtiaq Ahmed