Down The Exxon Lane — 8
Blessed are those who sleep blissfully
Sindh is probably the hottest province in Pakistan. Temperatures in summer in interior Sindh range between 110 to 120 F (40–50C), and summers are long and unrelenting. It was Sindh where many of Esso Fertilizer’s salesmen and agronomists worked in the company's early days.
Even though they were happy and motivated by their ‘four-figure’ salaries, brand-new Volkswagens, and Land Cruisers, they had to brave the brutal heat and dust every day while visiting their dealers and farmers. Their vehicles were not air-conditioned. (This was in the 1960s and early 1970s. Air conditioning, both in homes and cars, came later.)
Every salesman and agronomist logged nearly 100 miles daily on narrow dirt roads, often choking through a cloud of dust thrown up by a vehicle ahead and kicking up a cloud of their own. They returned home in the evening, dusty and exhausted, to rooms where only ceiling fans churned hot air.
Siddiqui was our salesman in Sanghar (سانگھڑ ), a nondescript town of Sindh with a population of about 20,000 people and poor housing. He had a delicate constitution and was non-complaining — quiet and shy. The only complaint he would occasionally voice was the excessive heat. Once, when he came to the Hyderabad regional office, sweat pouring down his face, I asked him if it was too hot outside. “Must be 150 F”, he said, without any trace of humor in his voice. (We measured temperature in Fahrenheit those days.)
Realizing their hardship, the company decided to give one 18000 BTU window air conditioner to every salesman and agronomist in the field for their homes. Everyone was happy at the news and eagerly looked forward to sleeping in the comfort of cool bedrooms. Hadn’t Siddiqui been so shy, he would have actually danced at hearing the news.
The air conditioners arrived from Karachi and were duly installed at the homes of the field staff.
Siddiqui turned up in the regional office a few days later, not looking particularly happy. I asked him what was the matter. He had this story to tell about the AC at his home.
The AC was installed in their bedroom. After the evening house routines were over, the whole family—husband, wife, and two children—converged in the same bedroom, expecting to spend a breezy, blissful night.
Following the instructions in the manual, Siddiqui switched on the unit, first to the ‘fan’ setting and then, after a little wait, to ‘cool.’ He said a gentle gust of cold air flowed out of the AC, and it began to feel heavenly. Just then, even before they could snuggle into their beds, they heard a crackling sound outside in the street. They looked out the window and saw sparks showering from the electric pole. In no time, the other electric poles on the street lit up, one by one, as in a fireworks display. And the whole neighborhood went dark.
The 25KV transformer that served the neighborhood could light up only so many bulbs and fans. The 18,000 BTU AC was the last ampere on the old transformer’s back. It blew up!
It took WAPDA, the power supply company - never known for efficiency — 24 hours to repair the fault. Poor Siddiqui and family — and the rest of the neighborhood — had to endure a sleepless night in the sweltering heat of Sanghar without even the fans.
Siddiqui never touched the AC again, nor did he complain about the heat anymore. End
