There are few moments in one's life when one is totally taken aback. One could be doing some activity regularly for many years, but suddenly that usual monotonous activity might turn out totally amazing one day. The experience of experiencing that activity, that very day, might turn out to be an experience, that one must not have experienced ever before. One such event happened with me yesterday. It was a visit to my tailor. I visit him twice in a year. So, this one can be counted as the first path breaking event of this ongoing year.
That day I gave him about 5 sets of clothes to get stitched and altered. Everything was going as usual. I greeted him, he greeted me back. He started inspecting the clothes, started making notes on his small tattered note-pad. He was meticulously going through the procedure of understanding the designs, then drawing each of the visualized patterns on a separate note; then finally sticking each note to the respective piece of cloth, the way he always did. He then told me that he will do all the 5 pieces in a week's time. That statement from him made me realize that the task was completed and so I prepared to leave from there, and hence I started gathering my design books, which I had brought with me for the designs. But as soon as I started to leave, he asked me to wait for a moment.
"Can you just wait for a moment".
"Yes, sure, what happened??"
"If you do not mind, can I tell you something.."
Giving you a little break with the background story, my tailor's name is Iqbal bhai. He is in his mid-fifties and is a poor man. His sewing kiosk is even smaller than the size of my bathroom. Luckily, he is alive and is still in business cause his shop once got destroyed in the communal riots that had hit the city about 11 years ago. Though it was a Hindu mob who destroyed his low-end boutique, but it was again his Hindu neighbours who helped him get this new place which I now visit. By the way his shop is exactly opposite a Hanuman temple.
I have known him for about 12 years now, since the time I was in college. Going to him back then in those days was a necessity, since those days I could not afford to wear the ready-made clothes, nor could I afford the price of the heavy boutiques. So back in those days, I would get kurtis stitched from him for a mere 30 INR. Today, I even do not know what amount he charges, I just pay him the final amount that he asks for, though I add 50 INR extra as a service tip. Though after my graduation I went to study in Pune, after that worked in Mumbai for a high profile movie distribution firm, but I always kept going back to Iqbal bhai for getting apparels stitched. Though I went to many expensive tailors and high-end boutique owners in-between. But due to some personal heart-felt connection with him I kept going back to him. I think it has to with his simplicity, humanity or the plain fact that he follows my commands/suggestions to the T, whatever it is, for him I have abandoned all the stitch makers that I know, and I go to him only all the time.
I just have to carry a picture of the dress, or the dress itself that I want to be made or replicated, either wise; and he would make the exact dress or its perfect replica. He is a poor illiterate man, but his wisdom is phenomenal. I find him more sensible than the french manicured, accent driven glamorous boutique runners.
Ok, so coming back to the incident yesterday. The instant feeling that crossed me when Iqbal asked me to wait was that probably he was in dire financial states, and wanted some credit. I was absolutely fine in lending him about 5000 INR, so I promptly told him to go ahead with whatever he wanted to tell/ask me.
He then asked me to enter inside his dingy kiosk, which again I did. He then dropped half of the make shift shutter of the kiosk, which was made out of a torn dupatta. When I saw him doing that activity of loosenign the drapes, I grew a little nervous. Then he came close to me and said something to which I was never prepared.
He told me that I had inflated a lot in the past 6 months. Though I may not have been able to acknowledge the difference, but since he measured me regularly, so he could analyze that.
"Aditi behn it is not good you know. There is a proper 2 inch of a difference in your size from all over. Please take a note of it and control it, else it will take no time to expand much more. Do not mind, but I have seen a lot of women going through this. You are like a family to me, so I told you. No body likes fat people, lest women it gets worse."
I was indeed shocked to hear the advancements of my physical self from him. I always had a naive image of him in my mind. At another time long back I took one of my tube top to get altered, and he was wondering why I wanted to wear a kid-sized SKIRT...All such and many more of such incidents hazed the real wisdom of the man and yes he seems to have wonderful "PREDICTION POWERS" as well.
I then thanked him for being so thoughtful and concerned for me. I told him that I would take care of it and have started cycling indeed. Also, thanked him for drawing the veil so that no one else hears our sensitive conversation (as if someone hearing would have effected me). I then hurriedly gathered all the magazines that I was carrying and left the place.
Coming back to my husband I narrated the entire incident, and told him how lucky I was indeed. Even the poor tailor that I know was so concerned for me.
He heard my entire story with attention and then suggested me to play basket ball!!!!!
P.S: I have attached 2 pictures, I need not say anything, you guys can decode it. By the way, I will be gifting a note-pad to Iqbal bhai when I visit him next. That would be a thankful gesture to his concern for me.
That day I gave him about 5 sets of clothes to get stitched and altered. Everything was going as usual. I greeted him, he greeted me back. He started inspecting the clothes, started making notes on his small tattered note-pad. He was meticulously going through the procedure of understanding the designs, then drawing each of the visualized patterns on a separate note; then finally sticking each note to the respective piece of cloth, the way he always did. He then told me that he will do all the 5 pieces in a week's time. That statement from him made me realize that the task was completed and so I prepared to leave from there, and hence I started gathering my design books, which I had brought with me for the designs. But as soon as I started to leave, he asked me to wait for a moment.
"Can you just wait for a moment".
"Yes, sure, what happened??"
 |
| amazed-and-surprised |
Giving you a little break with the background story, my tailor's name is Iqbal bhai. He is in his mid-fifties and is a poor man. His sewing kiosk is even smaller than the size of my bathroom. Luckily, he is alive and is still in business cause his shop once got destroyed in the communal riots that had hit the city about 11 years ago. Though it was a Hindu mob who destroyed his low-end boutique, but it was again his Hindu neighbours who helped him get this new place which I now visit. By the way his shop is exactly opposite a Hanuman temple.
I have known him for about 12 years now, since the time I was in college. Going to him back then in those days was a necessity, since those days I could not afford to wear the ready-made clothes, nor could I afford the price of the heavy boutiques. So back in those days, I would get kurtis stitched from him for a mere 30 INR. Today, I even do not know what amount he charges, I just pay him the final amount that he asks for, though I add 50 INR extra as a service tip. Though after my graduation I went to study in Pune, after that worked in Mumbai for a high profile movie distribution firm, but I always kept going back to Iqbal bhai for getting apparels stitched. Though I went to many expensive tailors and high-end boutique owners in-between. But due to some personal heart-felt connection with him I kept going back to him. I think it has to with his simplicity, humanity or the plain fact that he follows my commands/suggestions to the T, whatever it is, for him I have abandoned all the stitch makers that I know, and I go to him only all the time.
I just have to carry a picture of the dress, or the dress itself that I want to be made or replicated, either wise; and he would make the exact dress or its perfect replica. He is a poor illiterate man, but his wisdom is phenomenal. I find him more sensible than the french manicured, accent driven glamorous boutique runners.
Ok, so coming back to the incident yesterday. The instant feeling that crossed me when Iqbal asked me to wait was that probably he was in dire financial states, and wanted some credit. I was absolutely fine in lending him about 5000 INR, so I promptly told him to go ahead with whatever he wanted to tell/ask me.
He then asked me to enter inside his dingy kiosk, which again I did. He then dropped half of the make shift shutter of the kiosk, which was made out of a torn dupatta. When I saw him doing that activity of loosenign the drapes, I grew a little nervous. Then he came close to me and said something to which I was never prepared.
 |
| now-get-more-amazed-and-surprised |
"Aditi behn it is not good you know. There is a proper 2 inch of a difference in your size from all over. Please take a note of it and control it, else it will take no time to expand much more. Do not mind, but I have seen a lot of women going through this. You are like a family to me, so I told you. No body likes fat people, lest women it gets worse."
I was indeed shocked to hear the advancements of my physical self from him. I always had a naive image of him in my mind. At another time long back I took one of my tube top to get altered, and he was wondering why I wanted to wear a kid-sized SKIRT...All such and many more of such incidents hazed the real wisdom of the man and yes he seems to have wonderful "PREDICTION POWERS" as well.
I then thanked him for being so thoughtful and concerned for me. I told him that I would take care of it and have started cycling indeed. Also, thanked him for drawing the veil so that no one else hears our sensitive conversation (as if someone hearing would have effected me). I then hurriedly gathered all the magazines that I was carrying and left the place.
Coming back to my husband I narrated the entire incident, and told him how lucky I was indeed. Even the poor tailor that I know was so concerned for me.
He heard my entire story with attention and then suggested me to play basket ball!!!!!
P.S: I have attached 2 pictures, I need not say anything, you guys can decode it. By the way, I will be gifting a note-pad to Iqbal bhai when I visit him next. That would be a thankful gesture to his concern for me.
