The Miser of Chaman Street

The Miser of Chacha Chaman Street

BY:Ubaid

Rabiya Farooq’s uncle, known to everyone as Chacha Chaman, lived in a small neighborhood. Among all the residents, he was notorious for being the stingiest man anyone had ever met. If you ever visited his house, you were sure to return with a story of his unusual way of treating guests.

Whenever someone dropped by, he would greet them warmly enough but very quickly steer the conversation toward excuses. After a short exchange of polite words, he would say things like:

“Tea? Oh no, you wouldn’t want that, would you? It’s bad for health. As for juice, well, it’s a little warm right now, will that be okay? Cake and biscuits? Ah, unfortunately the bakery is closed. What can I do? And the samosa seller? He has just started heating the oil—it will take ages. You wouldn’t want to waste your precious time waiting, right?”

He always made excuses that left the poor guest embarrassed and uncomfortable. People would quickly leave his house, shaking their heads at his miserliness.


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One afternoon, a poor beggar came to Chacha Chaman’s house. He knocked at the door and in a weak voice called out for help. Without opening the door, Chacha Chaman asked harshly,

“Who is it?”

The beggar replied humbly, “Son, please have mercy on me. Give me just ten rupees. I already have some curry with me, I only need bread to eat it with.”

Instead of helping, Chacha Chaman shouted, “Go away! Get lost! I don’t have money to waste on you. I don’t understand where all these useless people come from, always begging. Aren’t you ever full? You people are never satisfied!”

He scolded the poor man until the beggar, humiliated and heartbroken, turned away. But before leaving, he raised his hands and said,

“May God keep you away from food all your life. May you never be able to eat properly yourself!”


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A few days later, Chacha Chaman began suffering from severe stomach pain. The pain was so intense that he could not bear it and had to be rushed to the hospital. Doctors ran several tests and finally diagnosed him with a stomach ulcer. He was admitted for more than two weeks for treatment.

When he returned home, he was weak and frail. His condition worsened—nothing he ate would digest properly. Even simple food like yogurt made him vomit. Despite following the doctor’s prescriptions and taking medicines regularly, he did not improve. Tests showed nothing new, but his health continued to decline.

His skin turned yellowish, his body weakened, and sleepless nights haunted him. Fear of death crept into his mind. He began to wonder if his end was near.


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One night, after hours of restless tossing, he finally fell asleep. In his dream, he saw himself sitting beside a giant pot of fragrant pilaf rice, distributing portions to people gathered around. The dream felt strangely peaceful.

The next morning, he told his family about it. They advised him, “Perhaps this is a sign. You should feed the poor and share food with others. Maybe God will heal you through charity.”

Though reluctant at first, the thought stuck with him. He called a local cook and asked, “Son, how much would it cost to prepare a pot of pilaf weighing ten kilograms?”

When the cook told him the price, Chacha Chaman was deeply troubled. Spending that much money felt unbearable for a miser like him. But the constant pain reminded him of his misery. He thought, Maybe if I do this, I will get better.

On Sunday afternoon, with the help of neighborhood youth, he finally took the bold step. They cooked the pilaf, distributed it among neighbors and the poor, and the entire event brought smiles to many faces.

To his surprise, Chacha Chaman began feeling calmer. His health showed slight improvement, and for the first time in weeks, he felt a little relief. Yet whenever he remembered the beggar who had cursed him, his stomach pain returned.


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Days passed like this. Then one evening, a familiar voice outside his house called out, “For God’s sake, give something, Baba!”

Chacha Chaman’s heart skipped a beat. He rushed to the door, and there stood the same beggar who had cursed him weeks before. Overcome with emotion, he grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him inside.

“Wait here,” he said. He quickly sent his eldest son to the hotel, instructing him to bring the best food available.

Within a short while, the son returned carrying fragrant biryani, rich qorma, spicy kebabs, fresh bread, and even ice cream for dessert. Chacha Chaman and the beggar sat together and ate to their hearts’ content.

The beggar’s eyes filled with joy and gratitude. When he left, he showered Chacha Chaman with prayers and blessings.


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A week later, Chacha Chaman’s health was completely restored. The pain that had tormented him for so long was gone. His strength returned, and he was once again able to live normally.

From that day onward, he was no longer known as the miser of Chaman Street. Instead, he became known as a man who had learned the value of kindness, sharing, and charity—the very things he once avoided.

And thus, the curse of hunger turned into the blessing of generosity.