Noah and His Ark…

Posted: October 23, 2009 in Flashback..
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I’ve waited until the end to write about my friendship with my father. The joy of discovering male friendship is clearest in that friendship because it took an era to appreciate it. A father is not a pal — he is the figure of authority and stability. For my part I was lucky that mine lived to see me when I grew into an adult, and that together we found we shared interests and forged a genuine friendship.

My dad was above all a sole proper tier. I never knew how much he slogged to earn every penny and bring it home, I always thought we were rich and lately (4 years back) I came to know we belonged to the middle-class of the society. He never said “NO” to my wants; even the cigarettes I used to smoke were a part of his earnings.

Always, my relatives wanted to tell me what a great man my father was. Everyone in the world knew that — he never made a lot of money, or invented a new product, or pioneered in box-making, or taught a young genius, or had done anything worthy of note. But people would tell me this man is a river of knowledge and if you are his son then you must me proud to have him as a guardian. Every one believed him as a fine business man, best father and a genius husband.

So do I. When I had fever, he would sit by my side and was concerned of my illness, whenever I was down I heard mom calling, dad called to ask, how are you now?

But to me in childhood he was less a saint or hero, more an ordinary guy with too many faults. He approved of nothing that I did, disapproved of almost everything, and let me know in a loud voice where and how I had let him down. As he was also strikingly handsome, soft-spoken (generally) and a self made man, his employees would fear him as he was stern at work. I’ve never regularly been to his factory but had heard him talking to mom quite often.

Still, none of his works made much difference to me. I wanted him to be like the other fathers in town, with plenty of toys and encouragement for his boys. If I wanted to skate, I had to learn by myself. So, too, if I wanted to hangout, or skate or go to beach, I was either restricted or these luxuries were compared with my academic results. Now when I grew up I see my sister’s attitude towards her children and now I think my father was very right.

But if I wanted to be a big man — honest, trustworthy, capable of doing what I said I was going to do — why, I imitated him.

Because he was busy growing his income, he had little time for his boys. For my part, I respected him as a father, an entirely self made man and a man everyone in town admired, the man my mother, considered as the best husband. Like many of the men of his time and place he was a stern disciplinarian with impossible-to-reach standards. He was old-fashioned in every way, including keeping up his clothes, the fragrances, the dressing, and the car in the approved and finest manner possible — which meant we had to work harder. We did it all, and today we agree among ourselves that these were the best things we ever did.

We had his guidance, complete and without question, as long as we did what we were told, but what we never felt we had was his friendship.

Dad would never come to the sports I had in school or attend the PTM’s, He didn’t much care about how well I did in sports — our mother, who never missed a game, did — but he always insisted that I took the toughest academic classes and never did well in them.

As I got ready to graduate from high school, in 2006 at age nineteen, Dad very much wanted my brother to major in business administration but he never insisted to me to do anything he wanted, may be because I had always let him down.

When I planned to be an entrepreneur, I was actually imitating him, he was disenchanted, I was now past the point when he would kick or spank me, so he let me know how he felt verbally. I had promised, and he had told my mother. Now he was dishonored. Still, it was my life and I could lead it the way I wanted — but my way wasn’t his.

Dad always told me”You are not made for business; you would definitely suffer one day”.

The words caught me up. It had never before occurred to me that I could do such a thing as add to the sum of the world’s knowledge. Once at the end of that lecture I went up to Professor and told him that I wanted to do what he did for a living, and asked, “How do I do that?”

He laughed and replied, “Stick around and I’ll show you.”

Right after, I went down to the registrar and told him that I wanted to switch to a Social Science major. He said that was fine with him, so long as I wanted to go on to graduate school in Social Sciences. Fine with me, I said.

My brother didn’t help much. He, too, found medical to be not to their liking, all that chemistry, physics and the like. That left Dad without a successor.

My father, who always talked about religion with me or anyone else, replied that he agreed with me. We used to sit and discuss religion and he would force me to offer daily prayers and simultaneously do all the social work I was into. I regret ignoring his advices.

By this time it was clear to me that he knew more about the religion than I did. On his own, he had embraced my interest and read deeply about the religion. His newfound support of what I was doing was the most important thing in my life.

He had always been somewhat rigid, insisting that I do as I was told and toe the line. I was keenly, gratefully aware that he had made an exception for my embrace of history. By the late teenage, after my brother went abroad for higher studies, I was left alone. This was the time when I thought I could have my father as my best friend.

Some past old memories were a blast; we six used to sit together in our parent’s room which we called the Noah’s arc and talk on general topics, those times were amazing. It was until that time when my elder sister got married and migrated to the USA, sooner or later my brother planned to shift abroad for higher studies and my younger sister to got married. Now dad is the grandfather of four cute children. Those days were like life had sugar contents in it and now it seems someone had mixed salt in the tea.

My mom, who belonged to a very rich family, a family full of geniuses. She got married to my dad and tried to adjust with him, this was when my father migrated from Burma to Karachi. She is an embroidery freak and was an awesome cook once upon a time. I always had that feeling that mom and dad both admired my elder brother the most and I was left behind, may be because I always brought ignominy to the family.

I never want to travel abroad or leave my parents; I am currently working to make them by best friends. The future of the family seems to be a little blur; it seems we are heading towards a dark endless tunnel. I always had a feeling that after my parents, me and my younger sister would live together and our other two siblings would meet us once in a year or two, that means walls of formal behavior rising to the horizon.

My dad, a steadfast friend. He was my first and always most important friend, I don’t know if he thinks that way or not but I want life to give me an opportunity to die for him. I didn’t learn that until the end, when he taught me the most important thing that the love of father-son-father-son is a continuum, just as love and friendship are expansive. If everyone would be like my dad, literacy would never curtail.

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Comments
  1. Hamza says:

    impressed!!

  2. Faisal Qureshi says:

    An awesome description and a wonderful conclusion.just love it

  3. Thankyou…
    Backstabbers…
    coming soon!!!

  4. Imtiaz Rafiq says:

    Spectacular piece of writing

  5. Mushtaq says:

    this is reallly nicce… lovvd it

  6. p.R.r says:

    impression description 🙂 man keep it up

  7. Zainab says:

    a wow piece of writing…:-)

  8. anika says:

    Its amazing miqdad, I LOVE IT 🙂

  9. Akber Shah says:

    Impressive Dude

  10. Mustafa Hassan says:

    I’ll buy this post. Fantastic 🙂

  11. Jamal Panwahar says:

    A post worth reading. looking forward for more

  12. Jamal Panwahar says:

    I look back at some of your comments left by people and realize that you have such a great impact on people you haven’t even met. Your words is really changing lives and helping people get on the right path. I believe God has given you some extra time to share your beliefs and values with others. You once said “I never really did anything meaning full in my life other than raise assist your self”. If you have ever had any doubt before now you should not. You have touched literaly thousands of people all across world with your words. Keep it up there are not many people out there with a positive attitude like you.

    Take care my friend
    Jamal

  13. Catherine says:

    If I had a penny for each time I came to miqdadsibtain.wordpress.com! Superb article!

  14. Jo Hart says:

    A Wonderful Post 🙂

  15. Catherine says:

    A Wow piece of writing 🙂

  16. madiha says:

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