THOSE who take their chance on the tree-lined road along Rasul-Qadarabad link canal have to pass though a linear colony of straw mat makers near Qadarabad Barrage. Picturesque conical straw huts are lined along the Provincial Highway land and one can see men, women and children weaving large mats, prayer mats and foot mats. On the one side of this settlement flows a canal, along which runs a road, and on other side is the wetland.
Nawab Khan sits on the roadside selling his ware as well as supervising his wards. Spending time with Nawab and his family was an amazing experience. In some ways, Nawab knows much more about life, work and happiness than anybody else does. There is nothing about his own life which he would like to hide or not talk about. He does not face any sadness, tensions or other worldly worries that are eating up most mortals.
Originally belonging to a small village Hasal Saro near Head Sulemanki, Nawab along with his family moved to Qadarabad Barrage area a couple of years ago when the cutting of straw was banned in the wetland around Head Sulemanki. He is living with seven daughters and three sons — all married. The family of each son and daughter lives separately in a hut nearby. The males cut the straw when the water level in the river is low. The females weave mats in a sort of loom that they make by fixing pegs and hooks in the ground and interlacing threads.
Sitting on a charpoy under a shady tree with many half-naked but happy grandchildren of Nawab playing around us, we talked. Nawab informed me that the straw is brought from the wetland around the barrage. It is dried in the sun and then is spread on the road, from where vehicular traffic passes, to soften up the strands. After this, the straw is preserved in stakes ready for use when required. Cutting of the straw is the hardest work in the whole process. It is dangerous too as there are sometimes snakes and hedgehogs hidden under the straw.
To save time and effort, two people work together on a mat. On an average, a couple completes a ten-yard long mat in a day. “My daughter, Karam Bhari, is the best in the whole clan and she always works alone,” Nawab declared proudly, pointing to a young woman working on a long mat nearby. “She is also good at making huts. My son-in-law and their children give her a helping hand sometime.”
I saw the young woman blushing and moving her hand rapidly when she realized that her father was talking about her. Later, Nawab showed the hut made by his daughter Karmo, as she is called, with pride and pleasure.
The mats and other wares are pilled up along the road when ready. Occasionally, the smaller mats are sold on site but the clan mainly works for contractors or the middlemen. “They pay us Rs13 for it and sell the products in markets in the city for as much as Rs25 per feet,” he told.
The weaving costs them six rupees per yard, excluding the hours of labour put in. Despite exploitation, they work for middlemen for two reasons: there is not enough selling done on the site where they work and they cannot take their product to the market due to lack of funds. Secondly, they get money in advance from the contractors. Nawab, who is in his late 60s, said: “I am happy when many of the families can make Rs200 a day. A hundred rupees is spend on household expenses while the other is saved for the days when they are unable to complete the required production target for any reason.”
Due to poor eyesight, Nawab cannot see the thread so he is not personally involved in making mats. His is the adviser of the whole clan. Everyone gets advice and work approved from him and respects him. A fisherman in his younger days, Nawab had also been making fishing nets. Now when river Chenab flows full and straw cutting is not possible, his sons work for the fishing contractors in the area for Rs150 per day. “When the fishing season ends, we earn our living through working in the fields of local landowners. There is no dearth of work for those who want to earn an honest living,” Nawab said happily.
Before Nawab and his family shifted to Qadarabad Barrage, he had lost six buffaloes and one hundred bags of wheat, which he had bought for selling, in the floods in early 1990s. I did not find any trace of grief on his face when he was disclosing the details of his loss. Philosophically, he said, “We eat what others do, so what is there to worry about?”
Politically alive to what is happening around the world, Nawab asked me questions about the situation in Iraq. He showed me his and his wife’s computerized Identity Cards that were carefully kept with mutilated currency notes in a leather pouch tied around his waist. Now it is not Nawab’s fault that in the address column, his place of residence is written Channi Mureed — two separate villages that are miles apart from each other.
Straw weaving and plaiting is labour-intensive, time-consuming and pays little. But it is a fulfilling and pleasing pursuit for Nawab and his tribe. All the members of his extended family are happy and he sits among them like a real ‘nawab’. Each time I pass that way, I am sure going to stop over and meet Nawab.
THOSE who take their chance on the tree-lined road along Rasul-Qadarabad link canal have to pass though a linear colony of straw mat makers near Qadarabad Barrage. Picturesque conical straw huts are lined along the Provincial Highway land and one can see men, women and children weaving large mats, prayer mats and foot mats. On the one side of this settlement flows a canal, along which runs a road, and on other side is the wetland.
