An extended family of skilled workers
Decades ago whenever we fell sick, we would visit the family doctor. The doctor would treat our ailments by prescribing simple tablets or a mixture in a bottle. These days, we are referred to specialists for every part of the body but there is no personal touch. The specialist prescribes a plethora of tests before the real treatment begins.
This brings me to another sphere of life. We need plumbers, carpenters, electricians and painters to maintain our houses. Since we deal with them on a regular basis, I call them ‘family plumber’, ‘family carpenter’ etc. There was a carpenter who did all the wood work for our house about 30 years ago. Though elderly, he used to come whenever we needed him. We knew quite a bit of his personal family history like he had lost his middle-aged daughter whose children were raised by him. Whenever we called him for some odd jobs he would not accept money but we had to force money on him as it was his bread and butter. He was happy to share his personal problems with us like an extended family member. One fateful day, while doing some repairs in my house he suddenly collapsed. We rushed him to a nearby hospital where he was declared brought dead. He had suffered a heart attack. His death left a void in our lives.
Our ‘family plumber’, Basu from Odisha, worked for us for years. His son, who was a Class 12 dropout, owned a motorcycle to splurge on his father’s hard-earned money.
There was a gap when we did not need his services but later whenever I called, his phone was switched off. Finally one day when I tried again, his wife answered the phone and broke the news that Basu was no more. A few relatives and friends who used his services were equally devastated.
Once, I befriended an old watch repairer named Sanauri Ram, who was proficient in his job. He confided in me that his mother named him after Sanaur near Patiala, his birthplace. We enjoyed a good rapport but he had tragic stories of life to share with me. He introduced me to a mechanic, Mohammad Rafiq, who he had trained. One day, I went to get a watch repaired but found his cabin locked. His neighbour told me that he had passed away recently. Rafiq had high regard for his mentor. When I visit Rafiq for repairs, he treats me with respect, saying I’m his guru’s customer. But I still miss Sanauri Ram.
I tend to develop a good equation with vendors, particularly those who sell fish and chicken. I go regularly to the same shopkeepers and can trust their products blindly since I’m a regular customer.
For most people, these traders may be ‘nobody’ or ‘anybody’ but having built a bond with them, I value them and they have become a part of my extended family. Instead of just trading with such people, a little communication with them lends a human touch. There is no denying the fact that we depend on many such people who make our lives comfortable and happier.
INSTEAD OF JUST TRADING WITH SUCH PEOPLE, COMMUNICATION WITH THEM LENDS A HUMAN TOUCH