Holy smoke!

PS Randhawa

COME winter, NRIs flock home — to Punjab — like migratory birds. An NRI friend, too, visited his native place this year. He was my class fellow and had migrated to England long ago. This year, he could manage to get just a month off due to some leave constraints of his wife. He could not get a dedicated government job. Since he knew carpentry and masonry, he worked on contract with building contractors. He was suffering from knee pain and other health problems, and with age catching up, contractors would usually look for younger workers.  

We met a few times. The day before his departure, I asked him if he needed anything. “Yaar, I need two bundles of bidis.” I couldn’t believe my ears. This gentleman had become deeply religious, with a flowing beard, and occasionally, recited Gurbani at a gurdwara in England. Before I could launch a barrage of Punjabi expletives, reminding him of the Sikh faith, he shouted: “No! No! It is for my foreman!” He explained that the foreman, who was from Haryana, was fond of desi bidis, which were cheaper and more ‘flavourful’. “I am in a big dharm sankat,” he stated. 

The problem was how, and from where to procure the bidis. We dare not ask someone else to do it for us as it would arouse suspicion. We got on a scooter and started looking for a wholesale dealer of bidis. Asking cigarette vendors didn’t help much. They would first give a questioning look — two Sardars, one looking holy with a flowing beard and the other not-so-holy — and then a vague response. 

Finally, we landed at a wholesale dealer’s shop and told him to quickly wrap two big bidi bundles in a newspaper, so these would not come in contact with other items. To the bewildered salesman, we muttered something like the bidis are required for some labourers employed in the fields! 

We then rushed to my friend’s house, where his wife asked him what he had bought. He told her, only to be lashed out at. She threatened to throw him and the bidis out of the house. With great effort we were able to calm her down. 

The next big question — what if the bidis were discovered during checking at the Amritsar or Heathrow airport? We envisioned a newspaper headline screaming, ‘Sikh caught carrying bidis’. Leaving everything at the mercy of Waheguru, he left. I had my fingers crossed. 

My anxiety grew as I did not receive any news of his wellbeing over the next few days. Finally, he called one day and told me he couldn’t phone earlier as he had gotten busy, and added (what I wanted to hear) that the bidis had reached safely — undetected and unquestioned. “I am now at work, having a break. The foreman is puffing away at the bidis and also thanking me profusely!” 

“I hope those will last till his next visit!” I teased. We had a hearty laugh.