Details

Written by: Mufti Jameel Farooq

Category: ARTICLES

Published: 06 February 2016

Jameel, I had to return home with that one shoe in my hand, you can’t even imagine how tough those days were? They actually had invited us for some gathering, which they were going to celebrate in the commemoration of the saint of their descendency, who had passed away a decade back, it was not like, rural or urban, we were all sailing in the same boat in that era; Jameel, Time was really harsh, I didn’t have other costume to wrap my body in, in order to look dashing, which the kids call these days. Fine attire was a trance sort. I was kind of every second kid, a ding on the face, a finger with sound-cut and with an attitude hardly known for!

The time was not as is now, a fine chair, a decent cabin, a landline on my left side and a serene scene behind the blind; I wonder today what not I’ve? A contented spirit, I’ve been blessed with, what else I should yearn for. Except thanksgiving stance, I hunger for nothing. One thing I must admit here, Jameel, my essence often longs to hears that ‘Cuckoo’ and the celestial things, which drag me to the library to read ‘Ode on Imitation of immortality’, but still then, I do miss the days sombre yet sober; which had their own charm, the charm like rippling sound of a river, where your eyes become somewhat transparent and make you venerate Keats’s line. “Heard melodies are sweet but unheard are sweeter.”

Teachers, I must praise, they were kid of ‘Farishtaz’ , who’d teat each kid with extra care, I’m indebted to them, in each and every respect. So, let I start in my own way, it happened this way, while coming back from the routine classes in my government school. ‘Sorry, I’m interrupting here, so you’ve not been the student of private school?’ I questioned. No. I’ve never had the glimpse of private tuition, Jameel. He replied with a little smile. Where I was, you cut my fibre; it’s too sensitive to be patched again.

Yes, I was coming from the school and they decided that I should accompany my dad there; as I said before now, during those days, there were no extra attire, basically, poverty had sunken us all, and finally I had no selection, but the uniform of school, which by the blessing of teachers at school was bit clean and crystal for making my outing possible. Few days back then, a new pair of shoe was bought for me in the nearby shop, I still remember his (shopkeeper’s name) Firdous Nazir Wani, he’d long moustaches on either side of his face, I always saw him whiffing cigar---- We’d call that pipe those days, and it would wonder me, where from the smoke comes in the cigar. ‘He passed few years back, may his soul rest in peace.’ The words were uttered with a sigh --- as a mark of respect.

That day was weekend, that’s why my name had figured in the list of accompanying dad. Apart from my academics, dad and I were kid of friends, who would not disturb my naughtiness, and I did enjoy that at my best. I was in my full ecstasy while travelling to village that day, I was found of village as I’m now. Firstly, we walked up to ‘Batmalloo’ and then, there we boarded a bus, that bus is still before my eyes and I think I carry still that feeling with me. On entering that lengthy-bus, I took the left seat but on the window side, to stare at the things—nature would always fascinate me, Jameel. While travelling, dad showed me many thing which came on the way and gave me their briefing as well, ‘but children are funny things’, you might have read in the poem ‘Punishment in Kindergarten.

’ By ex-Suraiya ‘I’m impressed by your memory sir.’ I interrupted again. Oh please, not at all. He muttered in an answer. Dad, would feel that his son was fully concentrating on his talks, but believe me, I heard none, except moving my head to pass the impression that I was fully concentrating on his sayings. I was fiddled in my own world, the word of innocence; as I’d not stepped in the world of experience.

And finally we reached, Tullamullla-Ganderbal and were honoured by the hosts with cup of tea and Chechwoor. We actually had reached late than expected; the late was caused due to the time consumed by the bus; as he had taken much time than the average time. We spent there one night and a full day, when we were planning for our departure in the evening, soon, it was found my one shoe has been lost and everyone went to hound that but no one could ferret.

The dusk was approaching like anything and we had to part, at last it was decided I must take a shoe in one hand and bid adieu to village, which I did and left barefoot towards home, with one shoe in my hand. After few weeks a guest came to our Home with the one shoe, which was found in the lawn near the gate of their sweet-home. Thus I didn’t rue much about my shoe, and became thanksgiving.

Mufti Jameel Farooq mufti.jameel97@gamil.com