“Baba, I want new clothes for Eid. These old ones are completely
worn-out and almost torn,” I told my father, Amir Shahban Kasab, furiously.
“Not now. We’ll talk about this later. We don’t have any more money to
meet all of your foolish teenage demands,” Abba jaan told me irately.
“You never tell no to Suraiyya and Munir. Why am I the only one to
receive such harsh and cold treatment from you? Am I not your son as well?
Leave it. There’s no use of arguing with you. You will just snub me out and if
I say something correct you will just pick up your belt and will flog me like
always.”
“You just wait and see what happens to you today. You think too much of
yourself, right?” He moved towards me while loosening his belt. But today was
enough.
“It’s enough. Tomorrow is Eid and you’ll are fighting before an
auspicious day? Ajmal, we will get you a coat next week,” interrupted my mom in
traditional Urdu.
“He’s not getting a coat. I’m not giving him anything new, not right
now. This good-for-nothing boy is 18 now. He doesn’t do anything other than
loafing around with his equally useless friends. We barely manage to feed our
family and this royal prince wants a new coat. Well, you can go and earn for it
first,” retorted dad.
“Fine. I’m going. One day, I’ll be famous and my photograph will be
printed in the newspapers, then you will accept me as your true son. I will
return with success and I will also bring money and happiness. Wa alaykum us salaam mom and dad.”
Turning away, I walked away with nothing but just my clothes. Walked
away into the darkness, far away from home as mom wept hysterically, and dad
stormed around bristling with anger and annoyance. Unaware of my fate or
destiny, I kept on walking; all alone in the darkness, with not even my shadow
to keep me company.
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