Friday, 14 September 2012
so torching........
This is a story about a man named
Rashed. He tells his story as
follows…
I was not more than thirty years
old when my wife gave birth to
my first child. I still remember that
night.
I had stayed out all night long
with my friends, as was my habit.
It was a night filled with useless
talk, and worse, with back biting,
gossiping, and making fun of
people. I was mostly the one who
made people laugh; I would mock
others and my friends would
laugh and laugh. I remember on
that night that I’d made them
laugh a lot. I had an amazing
ability to imitate others – I could
change the sound of my voice
until I sounded exactly like the
person I was mocking. No one
was safe from my biting mockery,
even my friends; some people
started avoiding me just to be
safe from my tongue. I remember
on that night, I had made fun of a
blind man who I’d seen begging
in the market. What was worse, I
had put my foot out in front him –
he tripped and fell, and started
turning his head around, not
knowing what to say.
I went back to my house, late as
usual, and I found my wife
waiting for me. She was in a
terrible state, and said in a
quivering voice, “Rashed… where
were you?”
“Where would I be, on Mars?” I
said sarcastically, “With my friends
of course.”
She was visibly exhausted, and
holding back tears, she said,
“Rashed, I’m so tired. It seems the
baby is going to come soon.” A
silent tear fell on her cheek.
I felt that I had neglected my wife.
I should have taken care of her
and not stayed out so much all
those nights… especially since she
was in her ninth month. I quickly
took her to the hospital; she went
into the delivery room, and
suffered through long hours of
pain.
I waited patiently for her to give
birth… but her delivery was
difficult, and I waited a long time
until I got tired. So I went home
and left my phone number with
the hospital so they could call with
the good news. An hour later,
they called me to congratulate me
on the birth of Salem. I went to
the hospital immediately. As soon
as they saw me, they asked me to
go see the doctor who had
overlooked my wife’s delivery.
“What doctor?” I cried out, “I just
want to see my son Salem!”
“First go see the doctor,” they
said.
I went to the doctor, and she
started talking to me about trials,
and about being satisfied with
Allah’s decree. Then she said,
“Your son has a serious deformity
in his eyes, and it seems that he
has no vision.” I lowered my head
while I fought back tears… I
remembered that blind man
begging in the market who I’d
tripped and made others laugh at.
Subhan Allah, you get what you
give! I stayed brooding quietly for
a while… I didn’t know what to
say. Then I remembered by wife
and son. I thanked the doctor for
her kindness, and went to go see
my wife. My wife wasn’t sad. She
believed in the decree of Allah…
she was content… How often had
she advised me to stop mocking
people! “Don’t back bite people,”
she always used to repeat… We
left the hospital, and Salem came
with us.
In reality, I didn’t pay much
attention to him. I pretended that
he wasn’t in the house with us.
When he started crying loudly, I’d
escape to the living room to sleep
there. My wife took good care of
him, and loved him a lot. As for
myself, I didn’t hate him, but I
couldn’t love him either.
Salem grew. He started to crawl,
and had a strange way of
crawling. When he was almost
one year old, he started trying to
walk, and we discovered that he
was crippled. I felt like he was an
even greater burden on me. After
him, my wife gave birth to Umar
and Khaled. The years passed, and
Salem grew, and his brothers
grew. I never liked to sit at home,
I was always out with my
friends… in reality, I was like a
plaything at their disposal
[entertaining them whenever they
wanted].
My wife never gave up on my
reform. She always made du’aa
for my guidance. She never got
angry with my reckless behaviour,
but she would get really sad if she
saw me neglecting Salem and
paying attention to the rest of his
brothers. Salem grew, and my
worries grew with him. I didn’t
mind when my wife asked to
enrol him in a special school for
the handicapped.
I didn’t really feel the passing of
the years. My days were all the
same. Work and sleep and food
and staying out with friends. One
Friday, I woke up at 11 am. This
was early for me. I was invited to
a gathering, so I got dressed and
perfumed, and was about to go
out. I passed by our living room,
and was startled by the sight of
Salem – he was sobbing!
This was touching and his father stopped and started crying unending and bitter one..........
Moral lesson: never muck disable, helpless ones b'cos they are nt also happy with der condition!!!
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1 comment:
True talk.
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