How Harbans Singh became a Pariah

When my father took possession of his DDA flat, he inquired from the Colony Secretary as to where he could find a reliable carpenter.

The Secretary's face grew long. He glanced about him nervously. Then he muttered out of the corner of his mouth- 'There is only one mistry in this area. Harbans Singh. He will do the work but, mind it, he is an evil man. Smokes in the Gurudwara!'

My father pretended to register great shock. Clearly, this Sikh was a bit of a rogue. Still, if he was a good workman...? The Secretary was too distressed to utter a word. He just wobbled his head grumpily.

Harbans Singh came to call without being invited. He was a small rather dark skinned man with a loosely tied turban. Perhaps the fellow was addicted to charas. Or, maybe, he belonged to some despised sect.

Still, whatever you may say, the man clearly knew his trade. Harbans gave an estimate which was more than fair. He'd begin work the next day itself. 'Aha!' my father thought to himself, 'the rogue will ask for an advance and then I won't see hide nor hair of him for two weeks! He will only return for more money when he has run out of drink!'

But Harbans Singh did not ask for an advance. He turned up the next day and completed the work in an exemplary fashion. But, he discovered that the water tank was rusting. He had a cheap solution. My father was wary. Clearly he was being cheated in some way but he couldn't make out exactly how. Anyway, the fellow returned the next day when my father was at the office.

Dad came home to see Mum had made tea for Harbans Singh. She was questioning him about where to buy vegetables. It seemed Harbans was a man of some education. He had a son at the IIT and spoke knowingly about opportunities for engineers in America.

Mum had gotten Harbans Singh to put in some wardrobes and so forth. Once again the cost was very reasonable. My father began to wonder whether Harbans was a lecher. Maybe, he had a way with women. Mum, obviously, was beyond suspicion- but perhaps this was the reason Harbans was hated and reviled by everyone in the Colony.

Then, about a week later, my father's eyes were suddenly opened. Harbans was not a human being but a beast! A Devil! It was impossible that such a scoundrel could continue living and breathing in a God fearing and decent Housing Colony meant for respectable, retired, Government officers.

What had happened was this.

Harbans Singh said, 'Sahib, work is completed. This is the bill as agreed.'

My father said 'I have a daughter to get married! My extension of service request has been denied! Why can't you rascals show some basic humanity! Is this your Religion!'
Harbans Singh remained impassive. My mother came out of the kitchen to watch the tamasha. 'Oh God!- they told me he smokes in Gurudwara! Everybody warned me! Did I listen? No. I have faith in the humanity of all creatures. Take your blood money! It is stained by the blood of my daughter who will undoubtedly be massacred by her in-laws because I can't meet their dowry demands! Are you happy now? You have brought ruin upon a poor God fearing family!'

Harbans Singh salaamed and departed. He well knew that Indians like having a choice. Since he himself was the only good mistry in the area (because he had economies of scope and scale which meant he could pass on savings to the customer) everybody had to employ him and, what's more, had to pay him because they would need his services in the future. That is why, regardless of caste, class, or creed, all his clients abused him to their heart's content.

Had I been Harbans, I'd have put up a 'straw' mistry so clients had an illusion of choice. Furthermore I'd have practiced price and service provision discrimination. That is what monopolists are supposed to do. Why did Harbans refuse to maximize his profits?

I don't know for sure. But I do know that ten years later Harbans had built a small but exquisite Gurudwara on the side of the Colony. The 'squatters' from the shacks felt welcome there though some prosperous people too were visible. I'd originally thought there might be a caste or sectarian angle to this. But Harbans was a Jat Sikh of the dominant sect. My memory is that the Ragi was very soulful. But, he could have been hired for some special occasion or perhaps just happened to be visiting the City. Or, maybe, Harbans had set up a Gurudwara specifically for a Ragi or other such Religious officiant with whom he had a spiritual connection. What struck me was the notion of an honest man accepting all the slurs and calumny directed at the 'pariah' so as to bring the Divine into that Space, if only at the margin. At the time- this was twenty years ago- this struck me as a profound thought.

Now, since I was not witness to the original events- and my Dad liked to pull my leg- I don't even know if Harbans was ever actually abused. Even if he was, it was merely a certain comic sort of play-acting expected of retired Government officers. Women buying vegetables indulge in worse theatrics. The middle class must constantly scream out to God against the productive class demanding money from them in return for the goods and services they supply.

I do know that Harbans died about a month ago. His son did not go to America. He has a flourishing construction business with offices all over the National Capital Region. Yet, I can see on the internet, Harbans' obsequies were performed by the Housing Colony residents. The son's name does not appear. So maybe Harbans did become a Pariah after all. It can happen to the best people, you know. Shame the children have to suffer.