Unique village message-bearers

LAST weekend, when I was at my relative’s home at Pindiyan, a sleepy village in Tarn Taran district, an elderly man visited thrice to give verbal invitations from three houses — two for wedding functions and one for someone’s prayer meeting.

I knew he was a laagi, as villagers call them, who are hired not only as domestic help during social events, but also for rolling out invitations. I was reminded of my maternal village home at Butala near Amritsar, where I had seen the same faces, including many women, since my childhood, coming up with invites. A laagi or a laagan play an intriguing role, and have been part of rural life since ages. They come unannounced but their presence seems more like a theatre scene to me, especially when a laagan turns up, who is truly a mine of information, sharing the latest gossip, from squabbles and splits in the village families to thefts and love affairs — all with perfect facial expressions. Not astonishing, for many they are their favourites, with whom they can go on, beginning with details of the home the invitation has come from. And to fish out titbits from them, some don’t mind offering them a large cup of tea.

I spot them marching in with a large basket of traditional delicacies on the head — bhaaji is distributed to celebrate the birth of a baby or for a wedding or any other good news. Covered by a colourful embroidered cloth, under it are treats prepared by the village women: laddoos, shakarpare and an array of old-fashioned pastries with rich fillings — served warm and fresh.

While in the village, most homes get verbal invites, there were also days when they were sent to far-off places to deliver invitation cards to relatives, along with homemade sweets. In return, they would be given a small amount of money or clothes, especially lois and sweaters. In the process, they weaved connections everywhere. In the old days, during their village rounds too, they were given grains or flour instead of money, which is commonly given now.

There are also tales of their service in case of sudden deaths: knocking on the doors of close relatives, when it becomes arduous to convey the same news telephonically. And they must have been ubiquitous before telephones arrived. At Butala, I have seen sadness on their faces, while sharing news of someone’s death in different homes, proving their old bond with the deceased. What touches me more is their artful selection of words to remember the departed soul.

Thankfully, even in the modern age, their role continues to be significant in most villages. Hopefully, the tradition will continue.