IN the early ’50s my family lived in Jhelum. Back then I was a schoolgoing child and my family’s living standard was extremely good. The bungalow, in which we resided, had a large compound for us to play, apart from having an orchard. The milkman, the barber, the tailor, and even the family doctor would come to our house to provide us with their respective services. The only food item purchased from the market was mutton, which was cooked fresh as in those days refrigerators were rare and the practice of freezing food had not taken root. Eating beef was almost a taboo and the breeding of white-feathered chicken was not introduced. Murghay ka gosht was a delicacy cooked only on special occasions.
Those were the days when people providing various services would develop a personal relationship with families, and the latter would also invite them to marriages and other happy occasions. Our family’s tailor, Shams, enjoying similar relationship stitched all our clothes, both for ladies and gents as the concept of having separate tailors for ladies did not exist in Jhelum. After purchasing a piece of cloth from the market, my mother would send a messenger to call Shams to our residence to take measurements. He would take one or two days to come. He would never keep his commitment to delivering the stitched clothes on the promised date and had always to be reminded two or three times. Then whatever Shams stitched had to be accepted even if it did not fit well as a further loss of time could not be afforded.
In the late ‘50s we shifted to Lahore, where lifestyle was different. Save for the milkman, no one would come to our home in order to render their services to us. We were introduced to a tailor named, again, Shams, who had a shop on the Beadan Road. It transpired that the name Shams was quite popular in the tailors’ community. We started going to him for stitching of clothes and called him Shams II. He was a thin, pale and bearded person and was addicted to chain smoking. Shams II would also not keep his promise and start trembling when we went to him to get our clothes done. One more common thing we discovered about the tailors was that they would never deliver the clothes on the promised date. On the contrary the ladies tailors delivered the clothes in time, but the female species were never satisfied with tailors’ first attempt and would ask them to make changes. Ladies tailors are usually aware of the psyche of their clients and do not hesitate to oblige them.
The modern generation refrains from entering into such hassles and prefers to buy ready-made clothes. Old timers like me are somehow still willing to face hardships inflicted by the tailors. Recently, a friend introduced me to a tailor whom he considered as trousers’ specialist. He appeared to be a well groomed, educated person in his mid sixties and operated from his residence in Clifton. I gave him a pair of trousers and shirt to stitch. He did not give me any delivery date, but told me that he would let me know on the phone. Over a month lapsed, but he did not respond. When I asked, he said that the clothes were ready and I could collect them. When I reached his shop he started looking for them, but in vain. He asked me to give him a few more days to trace the clothes. After a week the tailor told me that he had found the clothes and would take a little more time to stitch.
After a few days, he gave me the shirt, which did not fit me. I am still waiting for the pair of trousers, and I’m not sure whether it will fit me. Due to these bitter experiences, I have reached the conclusion that over a period of time tailors have not changed their habit of never keeping up the promise and in fact some of them have gone worse.
