Abba

He was a slim man of medium height, with grayish hair and a thin mustache. When he went out of the house, which was not very often, he wore a safari suit with a safari helmet and always carried a walking stick. His name was Zain ul Abideen, we called him Abba.

We often have memories of a family member or family friend who stood out from others, a quiet person, maybe a bit aloof. As a child, I didn’t fully appreciate our Abba.

After he retired from his post as District Magistrate, Abba came to live with my family in Hyderabad. He was my mother’s brother-in-law and a cousin of my father. I don’t have any memory of him before he came to live with us. In his younger days, Abba wore western-style clothing with a safari helmet. Once he retired, he exchanged his western suit for a safari jacket.

My father (R) (wearing a black sherwani) with Abba (L) at the Nampally Train Station, Hyderabad. (I can't be certain, but it is most probably Abba in the picture) The year was somewhere in the 1940s?

Abba mostly remained in his room but joined us for dinner and chai in the evenings. After dinner, he never sat around at the table as the rest of us; I knew before long he would be back in his room.

Once a month, Abba left the house accompanied by his helper Yaqub. We knew he would be gone for most of the day. It was the day Abba went to a government office in the city to collect his pension. Yaqub would pack his lunch and chai and a small box of paan. Paan is considered good for digestion and is often eaten after dinner, and Abba liked paan.

Paan is a combination of chuna (lime) and katha (an extract of acacia tree) paste and chopped betel (areca) nuts. This mixture is added to a betel leaf then folded into a cone or triangular shape and closed with a whole clove.

My cousins and I waited eagerly for Abba to return from the city. We watched as he opened his satchel bag and brought out the gifts that we had been waiting for all day. There was something for everyone: a doll, a toy car, or candy. My very first storybook was given to me by Abba. A little book with pictures of horses and cowboys. I couldn’t read at the time, so I turned over the pages, making up my own words. Most of all, I loved the pictures which were covered with red and green felt cloth.

Once he had handed out the gifts Abba would retire immediately to his room. He did not stay around to watch us open our gifts, but soon we got used to his ways. “He is tired after a day in the city,” my mother would say.

Abba’s room was off-limits for us children. We wondered what his room was like and why the restrictions? Our imagination ran wild. Sometimes when he appeared in a friendly mood we asked to see his encyclopedias. Abba would then bring out a few volumes from his collection of The Book of Knowledge for us.

As I grew up I listened with interest to Abba’s conversations with my parents and family members. They talked about politics, religion, literature, and poetry. Abba was a man of few words, but when he spoke everyone listened to him.

I realized then that Abba was a very learned man. A literary man. He had many books which he kept in his room, some of them I learned afterward were very rare. He knew many languages including Urdu, English, Arabic, Farsi, and Sanskrit.

By the time I was in college I had access to all his books. Sometimes he advised me not to read a book if he thought the author had biased views and I was too young to distinguish between fact and fabrication.

When Abba’s children and grandchildren visited him from Pakistan he usually rented a bigger house for the duration. That was the only time Abba left our house for a long period.

Though Abba rarely accepted invitations to parties or social events he decided he would go to Yaqub’s wedding. My parents, siblings, cousins, and I went along with him. I had never been to a wedding in a village, but now I got the opportunity thanks to Abba.

It was a long drive to Golconda on a very hot day. As we neared Yaqub’s house the lanes became narrower. It would be difficult to find his house because they all looked similar. Soon we saw children in bright clothes running on the street holding strings of colored flags. Groups of people on bicycles and rickshaws heading in one direction. It seemed the whole village was attending Yaqub's wedding.

The men sat in the compound which was decorated with colored flags and lighting. We heard the beat of drums and Hindi songs playing on the loudspeaker. The aroma of food being cooked in the house next door. Yaqub came out to greet us, already dressed in a gold sherwani and turban.

I went inside the house with my mother to meet the bride and give her ‘salaami’ (a gift of money). The bride wore a bright red and gold dress and dupatta. Surrounded by women and young girls, she sat with her head bent down. It was hot, but luckily there was a fan next to the bride. The celebrations would go on till late, so we left after a short time. Though all weddings in Hyderabad are bright, happy occasions, there was a sweetness in the way everyone present felt they were part of one big family. They all became potentially our hosts, making sure we were comfortably seated, conversing with us children, and bringing cold drinks and mithai.

In his later years, his hair had turned completely white, which scared my little daughter. He was mindful of that, so on our visits from Dubai, he would ask me not to force her to go and say salaam to him. Instead, he would greet us from afar with raised hands.

According to my father, Abba had handled many difficult cases during his years as a District Magistrate with fairness and integrity. Our family had hoped Abba with his mastery of many languages would write a book about his experiences, but he chose a quiet retired life. Despite living for years among his very social family members, Abba never changed his ways.