Are We Free?: January 2011

It was, perhaps, the most wonderful place I had ever been to . All the people were dressed well, except for some, who were probably hurt. And that women in the white dress was really a nice person to have helped that man in the wheel chair to the room. The place was really warm.

"This is a BIG house!"
"It's not a house. It's a clinic."
"What is a clinic?"
"You don't need to ask so many questions, Love! We're going to get you checked. And then you will be just fine!"
"Who are these people?"
"They are patients."
"Why are they here?"
"To get themselves checked by the doctor!"
"The doctor?"
"Yes, the doctor!"

I don't entirely know why Maria and mother took me here, but I like this place. Mother does not seem to be in the best mood to answer all my questions, anymore.

"Hello, young man! How are you doing?"
"Who are you?"
"I am the doctor!"
"Are all these people here to see you?"
"Most of them, yes!"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Doctor!"
"You, too. Now, tell me where does it hurt you?"
"In the left hand!"
"Does it hurt now?"
"Yes, it did at first, but Maria made it feel a little less hurt. You want to know how this happened? I made a story about it, just now; I love story-telling!"
"Sure!"

Mother was cooking in the kitchen the day when it started. I was three and saw this light flickering. I thought I might have a look at it. While trying, mother said, "You should not try to touch the fire!"
"What is fire?"
"That glowing light is the fire."
"Why should I not play with it?"
"Because it could hurt you!"
"Why would it hurt me?"
"Because it is dangerous!"
"Why is it dangerous?"
"Because it is hot, end of discussion!"

That was five years ago. I still wish I could touch the fire, just once. But my mother won't let me. Mother still tells me the same thing whenever I express my feelings to want to see what it's like to touch the fire. I, once, even got very close to touching it, when my mother saw me and pulled me back. It was the closest I ever got to the flickering light. It was pretty hot around it, just as mother said, but I still haven't found how it was dangerous. Father once told me that it was like being in an oven. But that made me even more wanting, perhaps, because I didn't know what it was like being in an oven!

...it was just today that I finally got to see what made it dangerous. After that experience, I could tell "It IS dangerous!" But let's back up a bit to explain how it happened. I have a lot of free time. I guess, that's what a seven year old has in excess, free time!

This morning, when I was playing with my favourite toy car that Aunt Mary gave me as a present last November, on my birthday, mother came to me in perhaps the most beautiful dress she has in her wardrobe, with glittering jewelery all over her neck and fingers-- and ears, too! She told me that she was going with her friends to a party and that she would be a little late, so she had called Maria over to our place to baby-sit me. I didn't like the word baby-sitter for me a bit.

In a minute, the door bell rang and mother said "That must be Maria!" A chill ran across my body the moment i heard "Maria". She was a big girl and she lived in our neighbourhood. She could, sometimes, be a bully to me, which made me a bit frightened of her. I wished she wasn't on the door, but I was proven wrong when Maria came in.

"Hello, Mrs. Saleem! How are you doing?" she asked. "I am very good, thank you!" mother replied, "And how are you?" "I am just as good, thank you!" she put in, in a hasty manner.

And that was it! Maria was going to baby-sit me for the whole day! Mother said the last thing to me, "Be a good boy and don't make Maria have a hectic time!" And she kissed me and said, " I love you!" That made me melt! "I love you, too!" said I, and she went!

"Alright, buddy! Rules, now! No eating dust! No playing with sharp things! No messing around! No nose-picking! No yelling! No disturbing me while watching T.V.! And most of all, No being a BRAT!" ordered Maria. It was haunting! I had to make a move to make my time, a kids' time! so, an idea came into my mind. I became the perfect child! This was rewarding. Maria was pretty impressed and was convinced that I wouldn't be of much trouble for her.
That was it! I won! I went into my room and started playing with my favourite toy car. Then, I remembered fire. The kitchen was far away from where Maria was watching T.V., and so I thought it may be a good idea to go experience what I always wanted to experience!

I came out of my room, crossed the living room, where Maria was digged into the screen like a crazy fan of one of those guys that played musical instruments with such rage that it almost felt like they were trying to break the instruments and were crying their lungs out! And then, I entered the kitchen. For the first time, I was alone in the room that was famous for bringing me the most delicious food that mother always made!

I reached out for the stove that was pretty much of the same height as I. And lit the stove with one hand reaching for the gas and the other lighting the electric gun. With a sudden burst, the light came flickering on. It was magic! Perhaps, the most amazing experience of my life, yet! I may have had some early thoughts about it, but I guess that my intentions were solid and I was pretty determined and, somewhat, fearless, considering the fact that NO ONE was watching me! I felt great freedom!

Anyways, I reached out for the light! And as I was growing nearer and nearer to the source, it became hotter and hotter! I may have even backed for a while, but that feeling went out as I remembered how eagerly I had wished to experience it all the time! I gave another shot at it! This time, voices came from inside me, probably saying "It could hurt you! It is hot! End of discussion!"

I don't entirely remember what exactly had happened that made Maria run into the kitchen and reach for me as I cried louder than those "crazy guys", but I could tell one thing, I had finally done it! And it, somehow, hurt so badly, that I wondered maybe that was what mother may have meant when she told me that it could hurt me!

Maria, took me to mother's room, where she picked out a white box with a red "plus" mark that Mr. Ahmed, our maths tutor, told us represented the "Addition" function! I don't entirely know why Maria wanted to do maths at the time, but she pulled out a roll and a bottle of red juice from the box and poured it over on my fingers and then covered it with the roll tightly! And then, the pain started to fade away! As I thought, I asked Maria to teach me the trick that she just did that made me feel less painful!

Instead, Maria yelled, "Are you crazy? I told you not to be a BRAT! you seem to not understand the word, do you?" I didn't know what to say. Maria didn't need me to answer that, perhaps. She called from the phone and in, probably, ten minutes, mother came in and I was surprised to see her home so soon! Then, she took me in a big car to this place where I met you.

The doctor said, "I will make it go away in no time!"

And then, he rolled off the roll and said it was pretty much in a bad shape and promised me to make it look just fine. And in a few minutes, he washed my fingers and wrapped them in a new white roll. And then, he even gave me a big lollipop! And it felt even lesser painful. The doctor hugged me and said, "You should listen to your mother when she tells you to not go near the fire or any thing that she says might hurt you, okay?" "Okay!" said I.

And then father came in and he hugged me real tight and asked me if it hurt me and I said, "It did hurt at first, but then Maria made me feel a little less hurt, and Mr. Doctor made it feel even less hurt! And he even gave me a big lollipop for free!" Father, mother, Maria and Mr. Doctor started laughing.

We came back home. Maria went home. And for the first time, I felt good for what Maria did for me! I will ask Maria to teach me the trick she did this evening, for sure!

"I finally know, now, what it really is like to touch "fire"! And I think I will be carefull around it the next time and the time after that AND the time after that for all of my life!"

"Go to sleep, my love! It is getting late."

That's my mother. I should go now. Night Night, dear diary! I love you! And I love you Mr. Bear and you too, my car! Good night!

It was a Sunday morning. The sun was partially lit, as winter was right on its threshold to soak the world in it's cold, streaking chilly fog, which I have loved for as long as I could remember remembering anything for the first time. I had to go to the open-market to get some fruits and vegetables my mother had asked me to get for her to make a perfect meal that all of my family loves to have every beautiful sunday evening. I entered the market and was really astonished to see a good number of people, which, most certainly, implies that I go to the market very seldom, who were buying what they thought was the most delicious food they would like to have for the day, since everyone has work lined up for the following day, they could not afford to choose to do the task the following morning. Plus, Sunday mornings have this really strange feeling in its air that makes everyone want to get out of their beds and go to a market to buy all the stuff they would need for the whole week to come and get it done as if they would not have the chance to do that again, until the next Sunday, once the Monday showed. And some of the people are really really enthusiastic to do this job and wait for the day to come so eagerly that they get the whole thing planned. The incident that caught my attention was of this one lady, who was pretty old but very strong, as she was holding five plastic bags almost filled with fruits and vegetables to the extent to which it was not designed to carry. She was almost about sixty years of age and had this really white skin, sweat pouring off her face made it look like as if she was shimmering, literally. She wore a pretty traditional "shalwar kameez" and wore a nice looking clothe to cover her head, it looked pretty much to me that she was actually trying to pull it off as it was bothering her while trying to bargain with this salesman who seemed to be pretty fretted. The salesman was a younger, much younger man, who was, perhaps, in his early forties, was trying to make a point to NOT afford to give the vegetables for as low a price as the old lady was willing to give to him. The old lady, in response, was pretty much determined to buy the most healthiest vegetables she had ever seen in the price she once use to buy, which was, I guess, pretty low for the salesman. I could see the vegetables the two were "fighting" for and, I must say, those were some beautiful vegetables! It was really interesting to see that the old lady was in this as much enthusiastically as the young man was and it was, most certainly, a "battle of the skills (of bargaining)". Ultimately, the old lady used the "Ultimate Trait" that I was very familiar with, because my mother always do it, and I'm very sure that she inherited the "Ultimate Trait" from her mother, that made it almost inevitable for the salesman to give in. The trick was, as the legend holds, to stop caring any further and stepping back from the place and moving on. Just then, the seemingly most impossible happened, not as much impossible for the legend, the salesman called back and agreed to take the offered amount and give the produce. This was stunning! I stood there holding myself to keep me on my feet as the old lady took another bag loaded with the vegetables she just "won" from the salesman. I could have given the lady a medal of appreciation for her demonstration of the "legendary" bargain, but I guess, I was not able to do that because of the social strain I feel around me in any crowdy place.

Are We Free?

Welcome Fellow Earthlings!

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

An Extraordinary First Experience

The Ultimate Trait

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Why Is There Hate?