Lachchmandas Pohumal Khemani

Shivratri has always been an important day in our home. Like most sindhis, my mother too is a follower of Lord Shiva. Generally speaking, we aren’t a very religious family as my father has always emphasized the importance of good deeds (“Sarbaht ka bhala”) over plain rituals. I have always found this aspect of being Sindhi as quite unique to us – whilst the sindhis who have crossed over to India during Partition were mainly Hindus, however I do find that our religious practices do have influences from other religions as well. As an example, during Diwali Puja at my home, not only will we have idols of various Hindu gods and goddesses but also of Guru Nanak Dev Ji as well. Not many are aware, that most sindhis are “Nanakpanthis.” Guru Nanak Jayanthi is an important day in the Sindhi calendar and is celebrated with great joy in the community. This flexible approach to religion, to me, is reminiscent of the great “Sufi” culture of Sindh wherein there was religious tolerance and being “human” was valued much more than anything else. 

A lot of my Punjabi friends find it a little odd about me not having non-vegetarian food on Mondays. Being a Shiv bhakt, my mother doesn’t encourage us eating non-vegetarian food on Monday. Of-course, like most other things, this too is now changing and the strict noes are being replaced by “preferably not”. I have grown up hearing how my (now) deceased maternal grandfather (“Nana”) used to attend the Shivratri Jagran at a mandir in Chandni Chowk along with his dear friend from Multan, Mr. Mony. He used to leave home at 7.30/8 in the evening, a day before Shivratri, used to attend the jagraan the entire night and come back by around 5.30-6 in the morning. Immediately after coming, he used to enter the kitchen and start preparing the “prasad” which was usually “Koki” (Sindhi Bread) and “Green Moong” (dry lentil). After this he used to leave for work, fasting the entire day and ended the day with just fruits and prasad in the evening.

Unfortunately, my grandfather expired when I was quite young (barely six years old) and hence I have little memories of him. He was always dressed in a white kurta pyjama and was a man of few words. I do distinctly remember that a couple of hours before he died, he spoke to my mother on the phone (and I think with all his other children as well) and told them that the end was now near and blessed each one of us. Most of my knowledge of him has been through my mother and the various anecdotes that she narrates every now and then.

I remember him and my beloved naani on every Shivratri  (Late Smt Meera and Late Shri Lachchmandas Pohumal Khemani from Kandiaro (Nawabshah), Sindh).

I pray to almighty that their soul rests in peace.

Om Namah Shivaya