Jagdish Bhai
In Fatehpur Galli, where I grew up, there was a tailor called Jagdish Bhai. He was the best saree blouse tailor in Jharia and Dhanbad. He was an old Gujarati gentleman, fair with white hair and thick black specs. Jagdish Bhai was soft spoken and surrounded by women as they came to him with their blouse pieces. Earlier my Grandmother used to employ him for a fortnight or so. He would come and use our sewing machine and make all kinds of clothes. The sewing machine was repaired and oiled for his arrival. He would make my Bai's saree blouses, petticoats and slips in pure white mul fabric. He would stitch girls small slips/ petticoats and our nighties. Large quantities of orange and blue fabrics with small flowers was purchased by Mom from one cloth store at Bata More. My Uncle, Aunt and mom would go to this showroom which was near our stores and purchase the fabric. There was lot of planning done to go to this shop which was not even a ten minute walk from the house. After buying the fabric and buying matching threads, Mom would draw a design of the required frock or nightie and explain it to Jagdish Bhai. He made Bai's clothes the best. My first saree blouse a maroon coloured one was stitched by him when I was in class 4 or 5. Then I got a green and a black. Those days Mom and all women in Fatehpur Galli believed maroon, green and black saree blouses would match with all sarees. In fact one year, from the extra nightie fabrics, pillow covers were stitched by Jagdish Bhai. My Grandmom Bai would even get all blanket covers stitched from him whenever he did not have work. He was given tea at home but for meals, he used to go to his house.
Bai had a huge collection of purest white saree blouses and petticoats. She was a young widow and always wore white after my Grandpa's demise. In fact her elder sister-in-law, Vijaya Bai, also gave up wearing bright coloured sarees, when my Grandpa passed away. Bai wore the oldest of clothes. She would stitch them herself when they tore but still continue wearing them. Dad, Uncle, Mom would urge her to wear her new stuff but those clothes were for her cupboard. Bai's wardrobe was immaculately clean and well arranged. All clothes were wrapped in white muslin in neat bundles/potlis. She would save money from the household expenses and put it in these potlis. She would always hide her money very well and remove it in times of emergency. She believed in being cash rich as she had seen private banks and coal mines being nationalized. She had many riches to rags stories to narrate. Money was saved for six children in different coloured plastic envelopes given by UCO Bank. Bai would put money for us in those envelopes every month, in front of us. Every year Fixed deposits were made from this money with our names. I was the privileged one to accompany her to the bank in Dhanbad. A call was made by Dad or Uncle to the bank Manager the previous day. When we arrived, tea was given to us and then we got down to work with the Bank executive.
Since our house veranda faced the Fatehpur lane, we could see whose house had guests and which person was going out of town. We girls looked at life from our veranda from Baraats to Holi to visarjan to dead bodies being taken to Shmashaan ghaat at Damodar/ crematorium at the river banks. All processions from the lane, passed through our house. One day a truck had come and we knew it was someone's Antim Yatra/ last journey. Those days all men went for any neighbour's funeral and would not go to their office/shops before that. The truck was high so the Baniya/ Grocer would give his wooden stool which was reserved for his friends, for people to climb the truck. The stool was still short so two young men would pull all the older ones in the truck. Along with the dead body, all would leave for Damodar river banks. I saw Jagdish Bhai going for one such funeral. It was a cold winter morning. He was in his white kurta pajama, an old half brown sleeved sweater and a brown shawl. The truck left and within five minutes all people rushed back. They were carrying someone and his face was covered with the brown shawl. Jagdish Bhai who had left to go for some one's funeral had a massive heart attack while climbing the truck and died instantly. People were carrying his body to the Nal wali galli, where he lived. We were shocked and shaken. I could not imagine how his wife and children must be. He must have woken up and had tea and left for the funeral. To have his body come back in ten minutes of his leaving home, must be so unbelievable for the wife and kids. I had been to his house and I knew his children. We had played in their aangan/fariya/courtyard a couple of times. For years after his demise, I heard people say that no one stitches blouses like him. For me, it brought death on the face of it and showed the uncertainty that life is all about.
Bai had a huge collection of purest white saree blouses and petticoats. She was a young widow and always wore white after my Grandpa's demise. In fact her elder sister-in-law, Vijaya Bai, also gave up wearing bright coloured sarees, when my Grandpa passed away. Bai wore the oldest of clothes. She would stitch them herself when they tore but still continue wearing them. Dad, Uncle, Mom would urge her to wear her new stuff but those clothes were for her cupboard. Bai's wardrobe was immaculately clean and well arranged. All clothes were wrapped in white muslin in neat bundles/potlis. She would save money from the household expenses and put it in these potlis. She would always hide her money very well and remove it in times of emergency. She believed in being cash rich as she had seen private banks and coal mines being nationalized. She had many riches to rags stories to narrate. Money was saved for six children in different coloured plastic envelopes given by UCO Bank. Bai would put money for us in those envelopes every month, in front of us. Every year Fixed deposits were made from this money with our names. I was the privileged one to accompany her to the bank in Dhanbad. A call was made by Dad or Uncle to the bank Manager the previous day. When we arrived, tea was given to us and then we got down to work with the Bank executive.
Since our house veranda faced the Fatehpur lane, we could see whose house had guests and which person was going out of town. We girls looked at life from our veranda from Baraats to Holi to visarjan to dead bodies being taken to Shmashaan ghaat at Damodar/ crematorium at the river banks. All processions from the lane, passed through our house. One day a truck had come and we knew it was someone's Antim Yatra/ last journey. Those days all men went for any neighbour's funeral and would not go to their office/shops before that. The truck was high so the Baniya/ Grocer would give his wooden stool which was reserved for his friends, for people to climb the truck. The stool was still short so two young men would pull all the older ones in the truck. Along with the dead body, all would leave for Damodar river banks. I saw Jagdish Bhai going for one such funeral. It was a cold winter morning. He was in his white kurta pajama, an old half brown sleeved sweater and a brown shawl. The truck left and within five minutes all people rushed back. They were carrying someone and his face was covered with the brown shawl. Jagdish Bhai who had left to go for some one's funeral had a massive heart attack while climbing the truck and died instantly. People were carrying his body to the Nal wali galli, where he lived. We were shocked and shaken. I could not imagine how his wife and children must be. He must have woken up and had tea and left for the funeral. To have his body come back in ten minutes of his leaving home, must be so unbelievable for the wife and kids. I had been to his house and I knew his children. We had played in their aangan/fariya/courtyard a couple of times. For years after his demise, I heard people say that no one stitches blouses like him. For me, it brought death on the face of it and showed the uncertainty that life is all about.
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