The Story of Scattered Words

God has given the mother great concern, which is why Bano Qudsia has written that if a mother has eight sons and seven are admitted to heaven and one to hell, the mother will remain restless even in heaven and will wish that the eighth son be sent to the one who is in hell. A mother never worries about herself, she always worries about her children.

When we were in the village, we used to come to school very young and in our legs, and in the nursery, we were admitted to new schools in the city, and our legs uncle would bring us very early in the morning and leave us at the end of the day because he was from our own village. Now, school would start late and the holidays would be early, so much time would be saved and we would have a good time. We would all play a lot, as much as we could play, what beautiful days those were.

The real problem was when it rained or uncle did not come. One day, uncle was late and I had only been going to school for a month or two. I was alone that day and there were also few children from the other village. When the leave was taken and I reached the appointed place, no one was there. When I waited for a long time and no one was seen, I saw the police uncle on the side of the road and did not understand anything. I was very worried about what to do, so I went to him and told him in his characteristic way that my uncle did not come to pick me up. He also got worried. He made me sit on a chair and said, "Let's wait a while, otherwise I will leave."

Now when the uncle was not found after waiting for so long, the police uncle stopped a rickshaw puller and asked me if I knew the address of the house. I said yes, we come every day. At that time, I used to call the rickshaw puller "Rishka". The police uncle took his identity card from him and said that you will not get this until you leave the girl home safely. He also paid the fare to this rickshaw puller and said that he should get a letter from the family stating that the girl has reached home safely. Even today, my maternal uncle prays for this uncle.

I reached home with the rickshaw puller and when everyone saw me, they were shocked and worried and then I heard the news that a five-year-old girl had come and my uncle was looking for me there. Mama thanked the rickshaw puller and wrote down the fare and the slip and left. I was very afraid of animals, although my uncle and father both loved animals and had pets but they left them because of us, but despite that I would go out alone for a walk around the whole village, I would be scared inside and at the same time I would console myself, just a little more and then go home.

Because of our achievements, Mama often got worried, but she was the one who encouraged and gave us the courage to move forward and fight against the dangers.

Everything else was fine, but in the rainy season, Mama would ask Grandpa to take out a car. Then the car would come out only on special occasions or when women came and went, and it would arrive to pick us up. Then, Masha Allah, the city roads were still like that, they would be filled with water, and Mama, getting wet, would rush us out of the school.

Our school was the biggest in the city, so it was a big deal to find someone there. Then she would come in the car and take off our socks, dry our feet and head with a towel, and stay soaked herself. If we had a fever, she would do it day and night, and if anything happened to her, no one would know. She still does the same thing today. When my great grandmother (grandfather's mother) saw her, she would ask why she was trying so hard, she should get us admitted to a nearby school, she has to teach, but where was Mama going to listen? She had to give her daughter a good education in a good school, and then she had to see all this too.

Then we used to call ourselves "Amiji" and "Abuji". Then we came to the city and grew up a little and "Mama Baba" was more suitable. Then "Ami Abu" became "Mama Baba" and we became modern. Time has changed very quickly before our eyes. We ourselves have changed so much. Our thinking has changed. Our style has changed.

A mother becomes a mother and is overcome by the pain of her child. She cries with him but does not say "Oops". She keeps wiping away her tears silently. But a father does not have the courage to see the pain of his children.

Baba used to work in the city and often used to come and go out of the city and would come to the village only after weeks. One day, when Grandpa was not home, Mama called Baba and said that he had to pick us up from school because it was raining and Uncle had not gone to pick us up. Baba reached the car to pick us up, but when he went ahead, he saw that the road to the school was full of water and cars were not allowed there. He got off and walked through the water to bring us from school, holding us so that our feet would not get wet, but little did he know that there was water inside too, so he brought us to the office.

When they saw our wet clothes and socks, they started crying. Once, when my arm was broken while playing, and I had little connection to my mobile, we used to play. Well, when we went to the doctor and he started straightening my arm to fix it, I started crying, but Baba also started crying as if his life was gone. Now the doctor left me and started giving him water and said, "Send his mother, you go and sit outside." Everyone started laughing when they heard that.

But the truth is that a father never sees his daughter in pain, he can't see it. The mother then gets courage but the father doesn't, he breaks down. I never got scolded by my father for the slightest pain of my daughter, but when I was stubborn and argued with him, tears would automatically come to my eyes and now I have come to my senses, the only thing that my father cannot see is tears. They fed us and took us home. Mama says that on that day your father had said that now I have to build my own house in the city, I will have my children there, so if I reach on time, I will go.

As soon as a child is born, a mother starts worrying about her home. At first, Mama would say, "I didn't want to leave the village and stay in my ancestral home." But now, for the sake of the children, we had to change our minds. Then, we used to go to school from our home.

Now, building a home was not an easy task. Mother would pray that some means would be found. This was the mother's job. Whatever happened, she would sit with a prayer mat and pray before the Lord. Father would say, "Son, don't make your mother angry." Mother had a deep connection with the Lord. The Lord would listen to her quickly, and it was a means of convincing the mother to talk to the Lord.

Everyone laughed about where to build a house, they said, "If you have two rooms in the city, it will be big." But they did not lose courage. And by the grace of God, they found a place in a new area near our school. God took courage and made the house beautiful and we became citizens. We were in the second or third grade. Now, when it came to the lawn, Baba planted big, fancy, showy, fragrant plants with flowers. But our mother, she barely let all this live for a year and gradually they turned into fruit-bearing plants. We were getting angry, the beauty was deteriorating, and she said, "You should do something that benefits you and someone else, otherwise what is the use of it?" Now, after eleven or twelve years, in every season, by the grace of God, something grows on some plant.

Our house, which is connected to two neighborhoods, now in both neighborhoods, every house has something to eat in both seasons, even more so than us, they got used to it and would wait for Aunty to cook something and we would just keep on sniffing. In cities, people usually mind their own business, which I like very much, no one interferes in anyone's life, but apart from that, a relationship can be maintained, which my maternal uncle started as soon as he arrived. On every event and occasion, she would cook something good and cook it in the whole street, and now this has become a tradition of our neighborhood that keeps us connected.

Whenever something goes to someone's house, she becomes very happy and tells us to be grateful that Allah has made it possible, the amount of gratitude we can show is not enough. We often ignore it, but if we think about it, these small things teach us a lot in life and train us, it's just time to think about it. Excerpt from the diary of a stranger traveler