Gracious Hospitality Abounds in Multicultural Sindh: A Tale of Unity and Tea
I am here in the small town of Mehrabpur, located in the province of Sindh, Pakistan, to celebrate Eid on Saturday with the family of a Muslim friend from Lahore. This experience has opened my eyes to the rich tapestry of cultures and the profound hospitality that defines this region.
The Historical Tapestry of Mehrabpur
Mehrabpur is a small town that blossomed when the Karachi-Peshawar railway line was laid in the 1860s by the British imperial power. Initially, it had a majority Hindu trading population, which migrated to India to the east in 1947 during the partition. Conversely, Panjabi Jat Muslim families, who had converted from the Sikh faith in the early 1900s, moved here from the rural areas of Dhuri, particularly the village of Qila Raipur.
These families waited several months after partition to move to the newly created state of Pakistan. Upon arriving in Lahore, they were not welcomed, as other refugees had already settled there. They continued south by train until they reached Mehrabpur in Sindh—a culture alien to them. Even here, they faced initial rejection and had to reside in a Hindu shamshan ghat, or funeral place, outside the town.
Their resilience has led to them being well integrated into Sindhi society while still maintaining their Panjabi linguistic and cultural identity. Today, Mehrabpur is often described as a mini-Punjab of Sindh. Other refugee groups include Muslim Ranghars from Haryana, who are Muslim Rajput converts from Hindus from the early 1900s, and they still speak their native language, Ranghari. Additionally, there is a significant indigenous Sindhi Muslim and Sindhi Hindu population here.
A Vibrant Bazaar of Diversity
In the bazaars of Mehrabpur, people of many faiths, ethnicities, cultures, and both genders freely walk and shop. You can hear conversations in Sindhi, Punjabi, Ranghari, and Urdu, all spoken loudly and with enthusiasm. This multicultural environment is a testament to the town's harmonious coexistence.
Today is the last day of Ramzan, the month of fasting in Islam. I wanted a cup of tea but hesitated to ask my host family as they were fasting. So, I stepped out of the 1950s home of my Muslim friend, which was built over a Hindu community funeral site by his great-grandfather, village head Lala Allah Dita Kamboh. He had moved here with the entire Muslim population of his native village of Qila Raipur.
An Unexpected Encounter at a Tea Shop
I turned left and then right until I reached a small tea shop, surprised to find it open during Ramzan. The owner, Muhammad Bilal, was making tea. He is a Ranghar Muslim Rajput but spoke with me in Panjabi. As I approached, I noticed his TV was playing news in Hindi, not Urdu. Upon inquiry, he explained that it was Hindi news from Bombay, and his customers enjoy hearing it from across the border.
I asked for a cup of tea without sugar, and he inquired, "Panjabi or Sindhi chai?" I chose Sindhi chai, eager to experience different cultures. I sat on a two-person bench in front of the shop, watching the meticulous 10-minute process of him making one cup of unsweetened Sindhi tea. Bilal used a small cup to remove boiling tea from the pot, then poured it back in a long stream until it was ready.
When the tea was brought to me, I got up to add Splenda, an artificial sweetener, due to diabetes. As I mixed it, an older man in shabby clothes, barely able to stand, approached the shop with a corroded metal walker. He spoke in Punjabi with slurred words, but I could discern him welcoming me to Sindh with "Sat Siri Akal." His body language was warm despite his frailty.
He sat next to me on the bench, exhausted and silent. After about five minutes, he managed to get up with great effort and, as he wobbled past, asked me to pray to "Vaheguru" for his health. I promised I would, and he disappeared into the alley.
A Heartwarming Gesture of Hospitality
After finishing my tasty Sindhi tea, I opened my wallet to pay Bilal. To my surprise, the shop owner said the old man had already paid for my tea. This act of kindness from a stranger melted my heart, showcasing the language of love and respect in its purest form.
I left a tip for Bilal and gave him extra money to buy chai for the old man next time. I also asked Bilal to request the old man to pray to "Allah" on my behalf. I am quite sure the old man assumed I was Indian, but it hardly mattered that I am actually American. This incident reaffirms what I have observed elsewhere in Pakistan: Pakistani people love the people of India, but the Indian government is a different matter.
Reflections on Unity and Future Hopes
In my extensive travels in Pakistan, I have yet to meet a single Pakistani who hates Indians. We must work together towards better days ahead for South Asia, building multicultural societies that honor difference and hospitality. I plan to look for the old man on Eid at the tea shop, hoping we might pray together to the one God, known by many names such as Vaheguru and Allah.
This experience in Mehrabpur highlights the enduring spirit of gracious hospitality that abounds in multicultural Sindh, bridging divides and fostering unity in a diverse world.
