Long before Afghan refugees started coming to India in the 21st century to escape the Taliban oppression and war at home, in the 19th century came the Afghan businessmen, or Kabuliwalas as they were called in Bengal. Most came to sell hing or dry fruits, or were moneylenders. Calcutta, the capital of colonial India, was a popular destination. “Back then, the locals were scared of us. Now they are friendly,” says Dadgul. Ironically, now it is the Kabuliwalas who seem eager to avoid attention.

Dadgul Khan has spent 50 years in Kolkata, married a local and fathered four children with her. But he still speaks �uent Pashto, the language of his native Afghanistan, and his Hindi is stilted.

The Kabuliwalas have made themselves completely at home in Kolkata.

Shiraz, Zeeshan and Sabir’s are three restaurants frequented by Kabuliwalas for breakfast.

Not just in attire or language, the Kabuliwalas and their descendants are also united by a love for sports and play cricket at the city’s Maidan every Sunday.

The Pakhtoons meet at Yasmin’s o� ce to discuss the cause of Pashtunistan. The native place, its language and culture are dear even to the young generation, born and brought up here.

One reason for that is because earning a living on interest is considered “haram” in Islam, says Dadgul Khan, who retired after going for Haj in 2012. The other is because they get cheated by their clients.

Like many other Kabuliwalas, Rehman is a moneylender. After Independence, as formal trade between the countries opened, the Kabuliwalas found their market for dry fruits and hing shrinking. Money-lending became a more pro�table business.

The expansion of banks didn’t a�ect the moneylenders that much, because even now not everyone has an account and one can’t get a bank loan 24X7, says Gul Khan. But what has a�ected them is that often now, someone who has taken a loan doesn’t pay back. When the Kabuliwalas demand payment, the locals complain to the police or political parties that the Kabuliwalas are harassing them.

As a result many have taken to other businesses. Those who manage to save enough, get into real estate, like Dadgul’s son.

Others are in the textile business. Near Kolkata’s Nakhoda Masjid are garment shops owned by Kabuliwalas. They sell intricately embroidered silks and velvets, fabrics for Pathani suits and turban that are sometimes brought in from Afghanistan or Indian weaves that are taken from here to Kabul.

One of the shops is owned by Sher Khan. He is married with two children. His wife’s family is in Afghanistan and he would like to take her there, but doesn’t have a passport.

The other thing that hasn’t changed is their food, still served on a dastarkhwan. “We have local cooks, but many have been with us for generations,” says F. Rehman, 48.

Among themselves, the Khans always speak Pashto. An exception is Yasmin Nigar Khan, great granddaughter of Khan Abdul Ga�ar Khan and president of the All India Pakhtoon Jirga-e-Hind.

“DAL GOSHT AND ROTI WITH TEA IS THE POPULAR BREAKFAST

CHOICE.” – ABDULLAH KHAN OF KABUL KOLKATA

RESTAURANT

“THOUGH CALLED KABULIWALAS, THE KHANS

IN KOLKATA IDENTIFY THEMSELVES AS PAKHTOONS AND WANT THE PASHTUNISTAN REGION TO BE SEPARATED FROM PAKISTAN

AND UNITED WITH AFGHANISTAN.”

“THERE ARE SEVEN-EIGHT GARMENT

SHOPS HERE THAT ARE OWNED BY THE KHANS. THE EARNING

ISN’T MUCH, JUST ENOUGH TO SUPPORT THE FAMILY.” –

SHER KHAN

Few, if any, of the Kabuliwalas want to relocate to Afghanistan — they just want to visit, meet family and marry a girl of their community. For all other purposes, India is home.

Many of the Kabuliwalas, even those born in India or living here for years, don’t have Indian citizenship. Often not very educated, they never got a birth certi�cate made. Many continue to live on long-stay permits. But even those with an Indian birth certi�cate say authorities don’t give them a passport easily. “They say ‘You are a Khan. You can’t have an Indian passport’,” says Musa.

“IF PASHTUNISTAN IS MY WATAN, INDIA IS

MY MULK.” – GUL KHAN. DADGUL KHAN AGREES, “I PRAY FOR PEACE AND

PROGRESS OF BOTH COUNTRIES.”

“WHEN I CAME HERE IN 1967, I WOULD

GO FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE SELLING HING, SURMA AND RAISINS. THEN, OVER TIME,

I BECAME A MONEY-LENDER. ”

“THE KIDS MAY SPEND THE DAY WITH THE LOCALS, BUT AT HOME WE

TEACH THEM ALL ABOUT OUR CULTURE.” – MUSA KHAN, 42,

WHO HAS NEVER BEEN TO AFGHANISTAN

“I HAVE BEEN A LICENSED MONEYLENDER

FOR THE PAST 10-12 YEARS. BUT IT IS A PROFESSION THAT

NO ONE WANTS TO BE IN.” – REHMAN

Of Kabuliwalas are still moneylenders 60-80%

IN SEARCH OF TAGORE’S KABULIWALAIt’s been 125 years since the publication of Rabindranath Tagore’s story, Kabuliwala. But what is life in Kolkata like for the community today?

TEXT: POULOMI BANERJEE ILLUSTRATION: MOHIT SUNEJA