chakri, and panipuri from street-side vendors. They were tailed by their less fortunate friends for a small share. A boy greeted me, "Master Sahib, Namaste." Then everybody started greeting me and began following me. They seemed to think that anyone wearing shoes and clean clothes was a respectable master sahib. In the opposite building, elderly ladies were going inside. Since they were not wearing any jewelry or colorful clothing, it was apparent that they were widows. They had come for a group prayer and Bhajans (devotional songs sung in groups). I could not see what was going on inside. Outside the building sat a sadhu in saffron clothing.
The next building was full of lights, even though it was a bright day, indicating that it was the office of the electricity department. The employees did not seem to have any work to do, and they were singing traditional songs outside. I was told that once a month these employees go from house to house collecting dues and that this was the only work they did. If someone did not have money, they would disconnect the power right on the spot and it would require a bribe of five rupees to restore the connection.
I walked some distance and saw fields on either side of the road. A farmer was watering his crops. Behind him, at a little distance, people were cremating a body. The dead person’s relatives and friends were mourning their departed companion, and the barber was shaving someone's head, as required by Hindu custom. The vultures circled overhead, waiting for the people to leave. I walked on further and saw a chungi (tax collection booth). This had a sign that declared that no vehicle could go further without paying toll. This booth did not have walls, but only a thatched roof. The clerk seemed to be of the opinion that he should not be wasting his best clothes at work, and therefore was wearing a banian (Indian undershirt made of cotton) and long underwear. The banian had so many holes in it that it resembled a fish-net . He did not have a desk and instead conducted his business from his charpai (cot). After he was convinced that I was not a motor vehicle, he let me go through.
To the north of Jobner is the Aravali mountain range. They have built a water canal around the town so that it will not be flooded. My road crossed this canal and turned into a mud road. I saw a woman weaving yarn with a charka (hand-operated spinning-wheel) just like Mahatma Gandhi's. I later saw a three storied summer palace (hawa-mahal,) where there were cows and camels tied to the wall. There was a temple too, on top of which a family lived. The well nearby had gone dry.
I encountered a woman washing dishes. She would pick up a soiled dish, pour fine sand on it, and wipe it with a cloth. After this the dish started glittering again. Before seeing this, in all my life I had thought that only wool and silk were dry-cleaned. A neighbor threw some garbage outside her yard, onto the road. A small battle ensued among the few dogs and pigs in the vicinity. Although the pigs were more in number, the dogs were more fearsome and chased them away. I then walked past a dhobhi's (washerman’s) house. The daughter-in-law was drying a customer's rumal (handkerchief) while her elderly father-in-law was dye-casting designs on another garment. Since Rajasthanis sand-clean clothes rather than wash them, the clothes tend to lose color rapidly. As her family worked, the mother-in-law cooked rotis (unleavened bread) and nagged her daughter-in-law about trivial matters. The next door neighbor was preparing panipuri to sell to school children.
As I walked past a clean-looking house, a gentleman stood up in greeting and introduced himself as the watch repairman of the town. I was to realize later that although his fees were very reasonable, his repairs did not last very long. Then to my surprise I found a bakery selling bread, butter, and biscuits (cookies). The owner of the shop spoke to me in English, "My name is Gyanchand Tiwari; I'm a clerk at the college. I run the shop more as a service to the Sahibs." He suggested that I become a member of his shop for fifteen rupees a month, for which he would supply fresh bread from Jaipur. The next two buildings were run down. The Harijan (low caste Hindus) colony was located beyond this. There were a lot of hogs running around, trying to escape from the boys' attacks. As I watched, four boys pounced upon a big boar and the fifth one shaved him quickly. I learned later that there was a big demand for pig-hair in a nearby factory that produced brushes for artists.
I was alarmed to find a shopkeeper hammering away at a pretty damsel's feet. When I came closer I realized that he was merely tightening her two-ounce silver toe-rings. An elderly man was melting red lacquer and molding it into bangles. His wife was attaching decorations on to the bangles using a pair of forceps. I admired the beautiful artwork, which cost so little. A boy in the household collected the broken bangles and proceeded to re-melt them. I realized that unlike glass bangles which once broken are gone, bangles made of lacquer have an eternal life.
