Dance to the beat of the dhol

The struggles of the men in yellow.

LAHORE:

The dhol walas in Lahore are as ubiquitous as flowers in the city. They are usually found dotted along a roundabout on makeshift gardens in the middle of a bustling city district, lazing and grazing on these green patches, waiting for something to happen so that they are beckoned.

“Weekends and winters are the best times for us,” says Ahmed Ali, a dhol wala from Jhang, who sits with his group near Liberty’s roundabout. “Our entire clan — generations after generations — have been dhol walas,” he states. When asked if he would do anything else, Ali gives a rather philosophical answer; “You can’t do anything that your heart doesn’t agree with,” followed by a more pragmatic afterthought; “We would do business or run a store, but can’t really do much since we aren’t educated and don’t have money.”

Much like vagabonds, these men come to the city in search of work. Areas that are typical hangouts for them are places adjacent to popular markets like Hussain Chowk, Liberty Chowk, Kalma Chowk, Akbar Chowk and Chauburgi.  Although many of those found in Gulberg are from Jhang, another dhol wala Mohammad Saeed points out that “everyone is from a different background and caste”.  Yet, there is a great sense of community and fraternity amongst this band of men. “There are no ill feelings. We all have our fixed locations and nobody tries to usurp the other’s space.”

The usual charges are around Rs400-500 for a booking and then Rs1,000 per dhol for the duration of the period that the dhol walas are called for. While earnings are based on the season and demand, the band manages to amass a meagre amount of Rs5,000 per month. First, they spend on basic food and utilities, and then whatever is left is equally distributed amongst all members.

Although, dhol walas are a relic of Punjab, they could possibly travel to other parts of the country to garner more businesses, yet none of them concede to working in other metropolises, with Karachi being outrightly blacklisted. “The conditions in Karachi are terrible,” remarks Saeed, touching his ear lobes as a gesture of ‘God forbid’. They may be illiterate, but they are up-to-date with politics around the country. “However, being at Liberty Chowk has not been very safe either,” I point out. “Well, yes,” says Saeed thoughtfully. “The 2009 attack on the cricketers left one of our men injured as he got shot in the leg. But so what if they kill us? You have to live and work with the times.”

For most part, these dhol walas live on the worksite but rent a small space to keep their belongings while they squat daily from 8 am till midnight near the city’s roundabouts. However, if one assumes that being situated close to a marriage hall is a sure shot pot of gold, brothers Ehsanullah and Rehmatullah (who have become more professional, carrying business cards and cell phones unlike their counterparts at Liberty) state forlornly, “People still don’t call us that much.” They spend most of their time playing cards or bathing at nearby fountains.

Alluring and fanciful, these men — in their yellow finery — are armed with large drums, sticks and turbans. “Yellow is the basanti colour,” explains Rehmatullah, reminiscing the kite festival that was a hallmark of the Punjab. “Yellow is also good for mehndis since women typically wear yellow on this occasion,” adds Rehmatullah. “Our clients also request us to wear yellow since it looks good on their wedding videos as its bright and shiny.”

Although these men live very basic lives, living from day to day and meal to meal, they also have a longing desire to progress and form a union with its own booking office where each band can concentrate on one region or locality so they won’t have to waste most days lying idle on the grounds in the sweltering heat or the blistering winter chill of Lahore.

Published in The Express Tribune, September 12^th,  2011.