Honestly speaking this name ‘Maulabi’ is not any imagination, but it corresponds to a real character in the life. I’ll try my level best to introduce you with him to some extent with the help of pen.
It would have been somewhere middle of the decade 1980s, the city was Banaras (Varanasi). Dad was an employee with in Uttar Pradesh government, because of his education from Banaras, he also had a lot of affection for the city. For this reason, a part of childhood was spent in Banaras.
Childhood is indeed very golden. A variety of mixed memories! Tales, stories, and toys, hardly anyone’s childhood will be untouched by it. I’m among those lucky people who have good memories of them. And in those memories, there is a name ‘Maulbi’, often remembered.
There used to be a toy shop at the corner of our street. Colourful toys! There would be hardly any child whom toys will not attract, so that shop was a major centre of attraction for us children. In fact, it was not even any shop, it was a small corner on the road along the wall side and it was little bit higher than the ground. If you have experience of the life of small towns you would remember such types of shops for sure. A cloth or sheet was drawn on the wall with the help of some nails, and a colourful plastic sheet was laid on the ground below. With the help of small pins, wires and small pieces of stone, toys used to be decorated on the wall and floor in such a unique way that I did not even see a toy store attracting that way. In those days, as far as our imagination goes, all those kind of toys were present in that small shop. Animals, birds, small carts, helicopters, puddles, dolls, kitchen utensils and many other things which are certainly not easy to mention.
The person who used to run this street shop we used to call him ‘Maulbi’. Certainly, his real name may not have been Maulabi, but I am not at all aware of the mystery of this call name Maulabi. Though he was much older than us, but in those days, we used to address him by the name Maulabi. Now, I think that at least he was entitled to the word ‘uncle’ with his call name ‘Maulabi’.
However, age wise Maulbi seemed between 75-80 years. To tell the truth, it is not easy for me to guess his age, but if I think in harmony with my experiences and his situation, he would not have been more than 50 years. Perhaps the reason for looking older than age is not necessary to tell a sensitive person.
He had a lean body, whitish colour and about 5 feet and 4 or 6 inches height, this was the kind of physique he had. A Muslim cap on the head, thin face, glued cheeks and small sunken eyes, round metal eyeglasses on the eyes, and a little white coloured beard. Generally Haji people have beards like that (Haji: the people of the Muslim community who have been to Haj) but remembering his situation, I can say with full confidence that he would never have been to Haj.
Talking about his dressing, the pajamas strapped to the legs, the full sleeved kurta slightly below the waist, which must have been of white colour but now was faded, a sleeveless tight jacket on the kurta. There used to be black colour leather slippers on the feet. The slippers were not new at all, but the condition of the slippers was much better than the rest of the clothes, and one of the reasons could be the cobbler’s shop three or four shops next to his shop. Many times, in the absence of customers both of them were spotted together.
Although I had never seen him eating paan (betel leaf), but the redness of tongue and mouth clearly indicates that he must have been eating paan. Anyway, if a person living in Varanasi does not eat paan (betel leaf), then it will be a surprise in itself. A slightly heavy but slow frequency voice, speaking rapidly, quick response and just keeping up with his work was a special way of doing his work. Though he used to sell the toys, and in a way, he lived among the children all day, but I would’ve hardly seen him smiling. There must have been some personal reason for sure.
While passing that way eyes were automatically gone to his shop. Since those toys were not very expensive so once in a while Dad also used to be agreeing to buy a few toys. In this way, it was necessary to visit the Maulabi’s shop at least once a week or ten days. Sometimes we go to buy something for ourselves or by becoming a special advisor to a friend of the locality. Buying toys was certainly very exciting but looking at those colourful toys just by standing at that shop was no less exciting.
In this way, Maulabi was also a major part of childhood. Childhood was going very well. It would have been the last year of the 1980 decade, Dad was transferred to another city of the state Uttar Pradesh, Gorakhpur. Childhood is a unique state, every situation seems like a celebration. Our luggage was being arranged to be carried from one city to another. We were given the responsibility of keeping our bags and books in one cardboard box. There was a bit of sadness but the mind was excited too, new city, new house, new school and so many things.. Frankly speaking did not even think about Maulabi that day.
We had come to another city now. New city new people. In the year 1992 I once again got the opportunity to go to Benares with my father. It was extremely exciting to visit the city again. I remember well that while returning, I bought some toys from the Maulabi’s shop. Perhaps that would have been the influence of the beginning of adolescence, I had no feelings towards both the city and the Maulabi. Those toys were the most important to me.
After that there was no opportunity to go to Benaras for a long time. Do not remember exactly, but after a long time in the year 1998 or 1999, I once again had to go to Benares for an entrance examination. Till this time walking on the Ghats (Bank) of River Ganga and roaming around the market were more fascinating. Certainly, priorities change from childhood to adolescence. But suddenly one day, I noticed that corner of the street where Maulbi used to have the toy store, that corner was empty.
After finding out informally got to know something about the last days of Maulabi. Maulabi was a daily labourer, and the income and trade of any daily labourers is intricately linked with his health. So, it will not be difficult for anyone to guess the last time of his life. The life of a daily labourers looks normal untill any disease or anomalous situation knocks. They certainly go to the hospital but most of them never come back. Perhaps it is not their failure, it’s the failure of us and our governments. Even after 73 years of independence, we do not have any special value for human life and sensations.
But I would like to stop this story here. There is still much to write, but in the ornamental expression of words, the sensations do not become extinct, so I stop the writing here. And I believe that in literature, the reader must get an opportunity to meditate according to their own emotions and wisdom… I leave the rest to you and your emotions.
But yes, one last thing! … Whenever I go to buy toys for my son or I see a child buying toys, the memory of Maulbi and his shop comes back to life.
– Ashish Tripathi
09 May 2020
Bengaluru
Ashish Tripathi's Blog 