It was 2004; I graduated this year from Engineering University Lahore. I also got my first Job this year in DG Khan Cement factory up gradation project. The factory located 40 kilometers from Dera Ghazi Khan City a totally barren area. The queries the source of limestone further located 9 kilometer from factory in barren mountains. The blasted stone transported to factory through motorized conveyors running. Our scope of work at this up gradation project was quite large, but unfortunately, we were only three technical staff members deputed at site by our company. One was my boss and other was a local sub-engineer. The DG cement site is less than 60 kilometers from Baluchistan also the whole community living nearby the factory is Balouch. At that time, there was also no mobile network working on factory premises. I remembered, I used to stand on top of 70 meter tall pre-heater structure and look around the wide barren vista.
Prior to this job, I spent my whole life in Lahore. It was also good and new experience for me to learn Balouchi customs. The stories of their rivalries, the stories of hardships given by Balouch Sardars to their Peoples, the offensive events coming during building of DG Khan cement factory; their marriage systems, in which one never able to get married unless in return he give hand of any girl to bride from his family; their religion knowledge, maximum Balouch living in mountains offer namaz with only reciting Bism Allah. They ate only twice in a day. Balouchi’s, having thin arms dark eyes and week bones due to less diet. They love their dress and walking with carrying Weapons. I remembered I fired first time in my life from Kalashnikov that owned by Balouch labor mate.
Well the real story start from here I was deputed at query site for supervising construction works of a new conveyors and machine foundations far from factory premises. I was all alone with a driver and crew of labors close to Baluchistan border. This was totally a un-habitat area where you could find nothing except the barren mountains. Among my labor crew there was a boy, who looks different then Balouchi’s, all other labor called him “Bengali”. The curiosity started in my mind, why they called him this. He was a simple and humble boy, other labor try to steal his food or make jokes but he used to stay calm. I asked from others why you called him with this name. They told her mother is Bengali. In my experience Baluchi labor were lazy and try to use hundred of excuses to escape from work. That boy was different he was hardworking giving hundred percent and also stay focus on work. I stayed at least one and half year in DG Khan cement factory but never seen there a single Balouchi women.
Well, the other day at lunch time, I saw a middle aged women standing at site with that Bengali boy. She was mother of him and brought some food for him. It was lunch time there were no other labors at site. That Bengali Boy introduced me to her mother, “Mom he is my sb”. My surprise was reached to peak when her mother spoken with me in Urdu and said, ‘’Salam, please take care of my son, others steal his food. He is innocent and cannot fight with them’’. I asked how she know Urdu. She replied, ‘’I born in Bangladesh, I came to Karachi for work but they sell me. Then, I was sold to Sindh and many other places and then the father of Bengali boy kidnapped her from Multan and married her and she has now this son. Her husband also turned old now and cannot work.”
She brought roti made of rice for his son. She also offered half of this to me. It has noodle like taste. I feel sad for her how human badly treated as animal for money. I promised her that nobody will steal his son food or tease him anymore. I remained at that project more than one and half year, in remaining period I used to call that boy, “Bengali Balouch”………
Prior to this job, I spent my whole life in Lahore. It was also good and new experience for me to learn Balouchi customs. The stories of their rivalries, the stories of hardships given by Balouch Sardars to their Peoples, the offensive events coming during building of DG Khan cement factory; their marriage systems, in which one never able to get married unless in return he give hand of any girl to bride from his family; their religion knowledge, maximum Balouch living in mountains offer namaz with only reciting Bism Allah. They ate only twice in a day. Balouchi’s, having thin arms dark eyes and week bones due to less diet. They love their dress and walking with carrying Weapons. I remembered I fired first time in my life from Kalashnikov that owned by Balouch labor mate.
Well the real story start from here I was deputed at query site for supervising construction works of a new conveyors and machine foundations far from factory premises. I was all alone with a driver and crew of labors close to Baluchistan border. This was totally a un-habitat area where you could find nothing except the barren mountains. Among my labor crew there was a boy, who looks different then Balouchi’s, all other labor called him “Bengali”. The curiosity started in my mind, why they called him this. He was a simple and humble boy, other labor try to steal his food or make jokes but he used to stay calm. I asked from others why you called him with this name. They told her mother is Bengali. In my experience Baluchi labor were lazy and try to use hundred of excuses to escape from work. That boy was different he was hardworking giving hundred percent and also stay focus on work. I stayed at least one and half year in DG Khan cement factory but never seen there a single Balouchi women.
Well, the other day at lunch time, I saw a middle aged women standing at site with that Bengali boy. She was mother of him and brought some food for him. It was lunch time there were no other labors at site. That Bengali Boy introduced me to her mother, “Mom he is my sb”. My surprise was reached to peak when her mother spoken with me in Urdu and said, ‘’Salam, please take care of my son, others steal his food. He is innocent and cannot fight with them’’. I asked how she know Urdu. She replied, ‘’I born in Bangladesh, I came to Karachi for work but they sell me. Then, I was sold to Sindh and many other places and then the father of Bengali boy kidnapped her from Multan and married her and she has now this son. Her husband also turned old now and cannot work.”
She brought roti made of rice for his son. She also offered half of this to me. It has noodle like taste. I feel sad for her how human badly treated as animal for money. I promised her that nobody will steal his son food or tease him anymore. I remained at that project more than one and half year, in remaining period I used to call that boy, “Bengali Balouch”………
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