Subedaree

Subedaree

Written by

Abdul Haleem Brohi

The habits of us Sindhi Subedar would take us straight to heaven. One habit is this that whichever Subedar has a railway station in his jurisdiction, at the time of trains arrival he would stand firmly in front of the ladies compartment and stare at that compartment nonstop; twirling his moustache. He would only let go of the sight of ladies compartment and leave his moustache alone, after the train starts to vanish from his sight. And the other habit is this that the Subedar who does not have a railway station in his jurisdiction would sit outside his police station after sunset, on a chair, and stare at the women who walk by. He would ask his special sycophant Sepoy, “Who is she?”, “Who was she?”

There is no railway station in the jurisdiction of Hyderabad’s Cantonment police station. So, I was sitting on a chair, facing the front alley, staring in the space. That is when I noticed that from that alley the Bohri boy was coming out; the one who was a bicycle thief and who had managed to upset the whole of Saddar by his robberies. This Bohri boy was around twenty to twenty-two years of age and the whole of Saddar knew that this boy steals the bicycles and sells them. He was never imprisoned as he was never caught with the loot. Seeing him coming, I started thinking about his slyness and my helplessness. Everyone knew that he steals bicycles from Saddar but he was such a bastard that he would always walk in front of the police station, give me a smile, wish me salaam and move on. So seeing him coming from that distance, I reflected on his shrewdness and my inability to do anything about it.

Those meherbaan readers, who have seen Cantonment police station, must have also seen Meherbaan Hotel; just opposite the police station slightly ahead. This Meherbaan Hotel belonged to an Iranian named Sheherzad who was in a habit of saying ‘meherbaan’. His speech mostly comprised “Yes meherbaan”, “No meherbaan”. While taking bill, he would say “Meherbaan, here are your two rupees change.” “Salaam meherbaan, take money meherbaan.” This earned him a new name of Sheherzad Meherbaan and his cafe that was initially Café Britannia acquired the new name of Meherbaan Hotel. Finally the meherbaan owner changed the name of the cafe to Meherbaan Hotel. But I am speaking of the days when the cafe was still called Café Britannia and the students from Kaaree Moree College used to leave their bicycles outside the hotel and sit inside to have tea and chat with one another. The main door of the hotel is on the Saddar Bazaar Road but two smaller ones are on the road on which the police station is.

While seeing that boy in the alley approaching me, I reflected on his shrewdness and my helplessness, but then suddenly, I caught sight of the two side doors of the Meherbaan Hotel on my side of the road.  Resting against these doors were from four to six bicycles of the college students who were used to having tea there and were mostly sons of high ranking officers.

As an abrupt urge to pee, came an urgent and abrupt thought to my mind. I saw that the Bohri boy was still a little distance away in the alley and was strolling casually and slowly towards where I was sitting. From this alley, one cannot see the doors of the Meherbaan Hotel. But after three to four minutes, when the boy would have come out of the alley, after wishing me salaam he would have turned toward the hotels doors and passed close to the students’ bicycles. I immediately signaled a Sepoy to come closer and told him to sneak up to the hotel and bring one bicycle in such a way that no one sitting inside the hotel should know. That Sepoy walked his normal pace towards the hotel and grabbed one Relay bicycle by the handle and turned casually, bringing the bicycle to me without students noticing anything. Meanwhile, that Bohri boy came out of the alley, wished me salaam and walked on, but I called him, “come here”. Bohro smiled and came to my side, and at the same moment that Sepoy came to me holding the bicycle by its handle. I pointed towards the bicycle and told the Bohri to take that bicycle and fly over to Heerabad and get me a carton of cigarettes from a particular shop and get back in two minutes.  Bohro said, “Yes sir.” Swung his leg over the bicycle and peddled it fast towards his destination but as soon as he reached the doors of Meherbaan Hotel, from where the bicycle was taken, my Sepoy started shouting, “Catch him, catch him, he is taking a bicycle away.” Sepoy ran to the place, but before him the college students sitting in the hotel were all out. Suddenly, one of them cried, “Oh, this is my bike!” Bohri boy got so confused that he started babbling, “I was going to get cigarettes for Subedar Sahib.”  But the students’ slaps and punches had his face swollen.

And then, there was the judicial enquiry and there were about four or five college students, who were the children of the respectable and high ranking officers’, and were the eye witnesses as they had seen the defendant with the stolen bicycle and caught him themselves.  So, that Bohri boy was sent to the prison for full three years' term and I sat every evening in front of the police station and kept to my routine of eyeing women who passed my way and asking my sycophant Sepoys “Who is she?”, “Who was she?”.

PS. This story could very well be true as Abdul Haleem Brohi grew up visiting Thanna's and in company of Subedars and Sepoys because of his father's job. Cantonment Thaana was very close to where he lived all his life and such anecdotes were often shared on the dinning table.