Re: -- Best Tragic Stories Writers @ GS...
This is a true story. I wanted to write a funny one with a hilarious tragic ending and a lot of one liners but today, it popped up again in my mind like it does every now and then. Ramadaan is coming and those were the sunny, fire-showering noons of Karachi during the very blessed month. The extreme humid weather of the city during the summer time is often unbearable specially if you sit in a classroom without any air conditioner. Can you imagine a prestigious school of the city having class rooms on it's top floor with aluminium roof? I do. I remember how the Principal's office and the accountant office were centrally air conditioned and at the same time there were few thousands of children suffering from the heat. Often, during the assembly, I had witnessed innocent children passing out because one, I was in the afternoon shift and assembly used to be called at 12:30 noon; and second, the assembly hall was an open ground and sun right above our heads. Mostly it were the females who would just fell down. Some cruel memorable days those were! ha!
Sometimes, thinking about those days bring tears in the eyes for I miss many of my friends who are lost. Some lost their struggle with the life of this world and departed into the next better world in the early age and some lost the sense of being friend in the glitter of this materialistic world. I recall the Jaamun (Eng: Jambul) tree standing at one side of the assmebly hall bordering with the neighbouring banglow and one Bargad (Eng: Banyan) tree providing shadow to our group of friends right at the main boundary-wall facing Shahara-e-Pakistan, under which all of us used to gather before assembly sharing home work and sometimes ending up sharing the home-work notebooks with each other, or drawing diagrams, botanical and chemical, on each others' lab journals.
Sometimes, we used to gather at the backside of the school before assembly in order to wait for the first morning shift to end. The place was shadowy and full of Aaloo chola and dahi barra carts. Other merchants were those with gurriya kay baal, cucumber sprinkled with chooran sellers, samosa, shakar qandi and the likes. On the other side of that boundary wall of school were the class rooms of kinder garten students. Their voices of chorus rhyming of innocent poems still strike my brain whenever I close my eyes and make the revolving of days run backwards. Sometimes, I wish to be back to those days which were responsibilty-free and hassle free. Sometimes, I think, growing up and maturing up is a cruel act of nature to us. But oh well, that's just an emotional thought.
So, the story's timeline lies somewhere in early 90's. It had been couple of months since the start of a new school year. We all were getting adjusted with the new course material, teachers, and some class-mates. Some of the fellows joined the class from other sections, and some were given another chance to stay in the same grade as previous year (note: I am being nice here). Among all that variety of students where some people were just nerd, some were geeks, and some were jolly little fellows, there were also some who were the trouble makers in the sight of teachers but they really were not in our eyes. Among those jolly and toruble makers were this new person whom our group of friends had shaken hands with in good will gesture. He was average in studies. Let's call him T for now. One of our teachers nicknamed him as Sada bahaar. The teacher was basically ticked off at him due to the smile that was always visible on T's face in any situation. No matter what the occassion would be, whether he failed the test, he would be smiling, or whether teacher asked him a question during class that he could not answer, he would be smiling. Fist fighting was his favourite pass time. He was a back bencher and would enjoy fist fighting during free periods with his pals.
So, the story goes forward and Ramadaan comes and so does the time of the story ending as well.
During Ramadaan, our school's management had this practice of taking students to nearby mosques for Zohur prayer. We used to go to these few mosques in school transportation buses. Obviously, we were all kids (although mature enough to observe the fasting) and would enjoy the ride by making noise, playing naughty games etc.
On a similar afternoon, all of us were in a school bus which was taking us to a mosque. T was in the same ride. I was siting by the window to get some wind while the bus was in motion. The air was totally stopped and with such a humid weather and tongue sticking in the throat while fasting, the wind coming from window was feeling like a wind coming from paradise. There were students hanging on the back door of the bus as well. All of a sudden I saw a passing by motorcycle riders waving hands to the driver of our bus. The stunning shock was very visible in their eyes. At the same time, a havoc like noise errupted at the back door of the bus. The driver stopped the bus. We all were totally unaware of what had happened.
Some of us rushed down to the bus or towards the back door. From the window near back door, I saw people caryying T in their hands and rushing towards a nearby car. At that moment, I saw no smile on his face. He looked at me and their was no emotions or expressions in his eyes. His face was flat. T was actually hanging on the front door of the bus. At one point, there was a bumb/spead breaker that came on the road and at the same time, there was a telephone pole standing on that side of the road. Couple of people's head were bannged with the pole and as an impact, they could not control their balance on the steps and fell down. T was among them but unfortunate he was to be the only person come under the back wheel of the whole bus. The bus ran over his stomach. He rushed towards the hospital. He denied to take any medicine because he was fasting but was forced to break the fast ofcourse.
Next day, at fajar, he died!!!
He would now never smile while looking at us but I have a faith that he is still smiling up in the paradise. He has reached to a Sada bahaar place. I am sure that place would be happy to have a sada bahaar person. It's been ages that this happened but whenever I close my eyes, it feels as if it occurred just yesterday!!!!
gud hai
kahani mazloom penguins pe ho sakti hai?
