I
am waking up again. I am in a different piece now. I feel quite different. I
feel bigger. I am five years old now. I am at my home. It being a Sunday, I do
not have school today but I have to go to the Masjid with my father around
three hours from now. Our house is not a very big house, but, the two–storey
structure is enough for our family to live comfortably in. My room is on the
ground floor and is the closest to the living room as well as the main gate.
Being that close to the living room, I could always hear everything that was
ever discussed there unless someone spoke in whispers.
Sitting
in my room and completing my home–assignments, so that I get free time in the
evening to play Cricket with other boys of the locality, I can hear the voice
of Shahid uncle (my father's close friend). He was a loud–talker, which was
quite a giveaway that he wasn't well–educated, and I can easily hear whatever
he is saying.
It
has been about half–an–hour now that I have been listening to Shahid uncle and
my father's discussions about their work. They both have a cloth shop, albeit
in different markets, and they buy their supplies from the same distributor.
Their discussions seem to have been interrupted by a round of tea as I could
make out from the slurping noise made by Shahid uncle while sipping it.
The
discussions have now, suddenly, turned to my schooling and it seems it wasn't
the first time they were discussing it.
“So
bhaijaan (brother), what have you thought about Akbar's studies? Do you still
want to send him to that English medium school in _________?” asked Shahid
uncle.
“Shahid,
I have already told you earlier that I have quite made up my mind about it. I
would not be sending Akbar to a Madarsa like his elder brothers. I agree with
your point that they would not impart any religious instructions or teachings
to him in the school but we can take care of that at home. His brothers,
sisters, sister–in–law, I and his ammi (mother) would be able to teach him
everything he needs to know about our religion,” said my father.
“But,
would his thoughts and mind remain pure after learning what all rubbish they
teach? Would he remain pure?” asked Shahid uncle.
“What
do you know about what they teach in those schools? You have never been there
nor did you send your kids there. Whatever you have in your mind are mere
misconceptions and nothing more. I do not want my Akbar to get corrupted. But,
I do want him to get a modern education. He is smart and grasps things easily.
I am sure he would do well in his life with such an education and would not be
a shopkeeper like me and his brothers,” replied my father.
“You
do not know what you are doing bhaijaan,” said Shahid uncle.
“I
know what I am doing and I am quite sure that it would do him a world of good.”
“You
are mistaken bhaijaan. You cannot trust them with our kids.”
“What
do you mean by THEM? There are several of our own teaching there and several
more studying there and no one has any problem with anyone else's religion.
And, I am sorry if it sounds offensive to you, but I cannot be blind towards
the fact that Islam does not ask us to differentiate amongst men on basis of
religion. I live by it and teach the same to my children.”
“As
you wish bhaijaan, as you wish. I just wanted to speak out my thoughts and my
concerns and nothing more. Rest is upon you.”
“And
I thank you with all my heart Shahid, for your concern. But, you worry too
much. Whatever Allah has decided for us would happen and it would surely be
good my dear brother,” said my father.
***************
That
very night, my father called me to his room and told me that I would be sent to
_________ school, which is one of the best schools in our town, once the
session got over.
And,
three months later, my father lived up to what he said. I was admitted to that
school, with the hope that I would carve out a good career for myself and would
choose a good profession that would earn respect not only for me but for my
family as well.
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