Sunday 24 April 2011

A LETTER TO MY PARENTS


My dearest mother and friendliest father,

Hope this letter will find you in good spirit. I hope you both are well and have time for each other.Not on a war path- as usually you are over trivial issues such as the amount of sugar in a tea cup, or salt in a meal, etc etc.

Mother- I am writing this letter as I couldn’t get hold of you since last week. I understand you tried to ring me couple of times, but sadly I was at work or busy with work. Sister Azra said that mother is far too busy in serving guests and making food for her nephew and niece's wedding.I trust her. She made a joke that your voice has gone deep and down, not from singing songs but giving instructions to girls for keeping the house tidy.I trust that too. Sister Azra shared that your brother,uncle Anwar has moved to Peshawar a week ago. I guess, seeing your brother, his wife and children would make you feel happy and strong against Baba's family, isn't that true? I need your reply and please don't ever try to be diplomatic- be honest. Logically, there must be a balance of power, anyway.

Mother- is uncle Anwar crazy for marrying Zahra with Nabi at such a tender age? I suspect she is only 18 and Nabi, around 20? I don't know what to say about Nabi's parents as well. Honestly mother, I am going mad at their silly decision.

Now Mother, please don't you ever get me wrong, as I know you will, as always. I mean, I am not against the wedding as I always want to hear good news. Nor I am making a point as to why someone as them are getting married at such a young age while I wait for my own. I am against the decision questioninong their ages. Now I fully understand before hand that you may call me a silly idiot wasting my time in London but I am not. By the way, in the west early marriages are discouraged and cousin marriages are prevalent only in Asian communities- that too among Muslims. They call cousins as brothers and sisters. Secondly from medical point of view kinship marriages should be discouraged with the likelihood of physical deformities and various genetic problems.

Now I know you will say that your sister-auntie Zainab married her first cousin Uncle Fazal and have healthy children and now Zahra marrying Nabi, again first cousins. But listen mother, I am speaking from research and it is true. Anyway, I wish them both, the beginning of a sweet, peaceful and beautiful family life as they both are so beautiful and loving.

Mother- one more thing to tell you. I bought a bike today. It made me remind of my childhood. The feeling is as fresh and sweet and similar as my first bike Baba bought for me when I turned 4. Now mother don’t you worry about my riding bike on London streets as I am a grown up child- in fact, a strong man now. Besides, you know that the traffic in London is not as crazy as in Peshawar where people shout, cry and fight over small things. Furthermore, I know how to keep myself safe and others too. I am not like uncle Khanzada’s son, Zahir Shah, who would hardly ride his bike as fast as me, would get himself injured and blame me for his own mistakes. I guess every loser has someone to blame for their own mistakes. Anyway mother- we are all losers, some may reveal it, some may hide it, few would deny. I guess, those who would reveal are no timid losers, are they?

But mother, I wonder how would you always believed him and his innocence and not me? I know I was a cheeky monkey, but then... . anyway mother- he is a childhood friend, and I miss him badly- and with that the memories from the past too. I don’t know how to describe it mother, perhaps Baba will explain it better that somehow we all have with the past such a trusting relationship that we can’t detach ourselves from it, can we? I mean, the beauty from the memories of the past is such that you leave it for a time and it comes back to you like beautiful butterflies or dragonflies- even sometimes waiting for you, untouched to be touched, unfelt to be felt, once more.

Mother- it is a bright sunny day here in London. It is like an early spring in Peshawar in the month of February. The sun feels so soothing so healing. But mother, I would tell you something which would make you feel sad. Yesterday, I visited a young Afghani child, aged 14 in a London Hospital. He is an unaccompanied minor from Afghanistan in the UK. He was hit by a gang of his friends with an iron rod.

The young person’s name is Abdullah and he is from Qandahar.The doctor said that his injuries are grave and deadly and that he would not survive. Mother, I saw him in coma- unconscious, like a dead body. A nurse asked if I was related to him in anyway or just his social worker. I said that I am not Abdullah’s social worker but his social worker’s work colleague and came to see him as I was told that Abdullah was an Afghani child. She told me that he has no one to look after him or see him occasionally, which I knew from my colleague. I cried and said “but Abdullah is like my brother”. The doctor asked, “like a brother?” I said- “a brother, my Afghan brother in blood”. The doctor too became tearful. Mother- as they say, blood is thicker than water, perhaps, that is why yesterday I couldn’t draw a line being a social worker and a brother. Mother- I don’t know why but I believe that I would see Abdullah healthy and happy once more.

Mother- if I call him my brother, he becomes your son too. I am sure you will pray for his good health. Doctors can’t predict deaths, can they? But hey mother, don’t you worry while reading this letter. I am strong. I know you and Baba are there for me and now for this child too. I can see that as clearly as I could see flocks of birds flying over my village. Or catching butterflies in the spring with utmost skill. Or running after the rainbow as far as the village’s extreme end. I am sure I will see him going to school, playing with friends and will make a good name for himself and his war torn country.

Now Baba, it is your turn. Don’t you ever feel that I speak more with mother and less with you. I love you and you know that, don’t you? Baba I will tell you few funny things about a friend of a friend, who just came from Peshawar. I hope that would make you laugh.

By the way mother- does Baba adhere to a strict eating and sleeping routine? Baba told me yesterday that he jogs a lot and that he is fit- happy and healthy as ever. I am sure he is. Here in the UK- we the social workers monitor five outcomes for the children. This is called five outcomes for Every Child Matters. These are: Stay Healthy, Stay Safe, Enjoy and Achieve, Make a Positive contribution and Achieving Economic well-being. I would like to add one more outcome for you, being my sweet and lovely parents- "Stay Happy and blessed". How is that?

Baba- while I am writing this letter, I am sipping a strong cup of tea in my room- though it still doesn’t match your taste or love for a strong tea, which has no parallel. My friend Zulfiqar once shared with me that Baba doesn’t drink tea but poison. I couldn’t stop laughing at that Baba.

And yes mother- one little thing to tell you secretly in your ear- I love you and this life is dedicated to you- a single Mother's Day as a tradition won't serve my feeling and love for you . Now study Baba's face, I understand that he will get jealous with that and will think that I am pretending to act as a very responsible son, while in truth, I am always responsible, the same as ever- your caring and loving son. I love you both.

Farid Gul, London, April 3, 2011

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