The word hit the delete button in the memory of most Delhiites long ago. In the age of washing machines with all the debate about the virtues of top loading and side loading, the youngsters had not so much as heard of the washerman. Those who did thought it was a vocation mentioned in Urdu and Hindi literature in 19th Century. The Hindi and Urdu authors talked of words like ‘dhobi’, ‘maila’, ‘ujla’ and ‘stri’, etc. For the upmarket Delhiites, these words were replaced with ‘dry cleaner’, ‘spotless white’ and ‘ironing’, etc. Of course, in most people’s vocabulary, the dhobi often meant the ubiquitous press-wallah. That is until a Bollywood flick Dhobi Ghat not only retrieved the word but also gave it fresh currency.
However, look beyond cinema. There are washermen and women in real life, the so-called dhobis in some of the biggest open air laundries. And they have a special place in the city to do their washing. By the banks of the Yamuna, near the old bridge at Kashmere Gate. And a handful of places for drying the stuff. Like near Minto Road. Every day, a little before the crack of dawn, these silent workers proceed to the bank of the river, their cycles often swaying one way then the other, like a pendulum, due to the weight on the bike. And by the time, the first rays of the sun kiss the Yamuna waters, much dirt, some grease is washed off. Those requiring multiple action are put aside. A little break and the workers are back, making the clothes into a bundle, which is slammed on the flogging stone, then pulled over the shoulder and slapped again. The process ensures the dirt is erased. Never mind that the water nearby soon resembles a cesspool.
Clothes washed is only half the job done. They have to be dried, on green, clean grass, on long ropes tied to tree trunks. Occasionally, even roadside grills are used. It is quite a spectacle to see rows of sparkling white sheets, probably from hotels and hospitals, hung in a neat manner. Then comes the last part, not a shade less tedious: folding the sheets, curtains, clothes and making a pile out of them. Then comes the round of ironing. Lo! Your neat and clean sheet, bed and cushion covers are ready! And you never thought about the dhobi!
So next time some old woman in the neighbourhood talks of the dhobi, don’t give that quizzical look. Chances are she knows the various vocations in Delhi better than you.
