When everyone simply wants to eat, rejoicing in the fact that the cooking pot has been set over the fire, the person who knows how to provide the finishing touch (daag) is still nowhere to be found. First, one must search for someone who knows how to cook the ingredients inside the pot. Cooking and preparing food is an art in itself; not everyone possesses this skill. That is why expert cooks are summoned from afar for weddings, just as special master chefs are assigned to prepare VIP meals. Similarly, for every political setup and its subsequent upgrade, people keep their ears to the ground, hoping to hear some promising news.
When everyone with an appetite has mouths like crocodiles, small insects will not do; the prey must match the predators. The meals of the powerful are large, and their bellies are filled accordingly. Rough or smooth, whatever sticks and twigs are available, the beating of drums and the loud gnashing of teeth can be heard from afar, signaling that the food is being chewed. Then why all this waiting and anticipation? Sometimes waiting brings hardship, and sometimes blessings. Putting a pot on the fire is not that simple. First, the environment must be set: damp wood is placed beneath dry wood so that it catches fire; kerosene oil is also necessary. Due to inflation, nothing comes cheap; damp wood is even more expensive than sugarcane. But necessity dictates that the food must be cooked. All the guests and hosts are sitting anxiously, waiting. Moreover, for the large pot placed in the open field, one must check the direction of the wind and where it is blowing. After gathering all these resources, one waits for the expert cook. That period of waiting is worth watching. Food cooked in too much haste will cause drool to slip past the lips of those eating. Some swallow it hastily, looking this way and that to ensure no one catches them, though their faces easily betray them.
Comrade Kaaro Qadir laughs uproariously at times, while at other times he looks deeply troubled. Meanwhile, looking at the crocodiles in the nearby pond being hand-fed by Wadera (Feudal Lord) Wadan Khan, one falls into a stunned silence. Then come the crunching sounds of bones breaking, and Qadir’s joy turns to silence. The happiness he felt merely by smelling the aroma of the cooking pot vanished; the wide jaws of the crocodiles and their method of tearing into their food was a painful sight.
Poor Comrade Kaaro Qadir always kept his preparations at full throttle, but on crucial occasions, the heavyweights would arrive beforehand and snatch away the meal, leaving him empty-handed once again. This time, he had prepared himself with absolute certainty. However, when he witnessed the behavior of the crocodiles and the feudal lords, the delay in cooking the pot became utterly unbearable. At times, caught between hunger and longing, he preferred to wait; at other times, he thought about turning back. Yet, looking back at his past condition, he saw no bright prospect either. He simply thought that whatever food was repeatedly being crunched between the jaws of the crocodiles was in the hands of the feudal lord. Accepting this as his fate, he chose silence.
Syed Ghulam Hyder Shah
Kunri, Sindh, Pakistan
