There was a tall man who used to walk through the road in front of my house every evening, close to twilight. In the yellow, diminishing light he looked very strange to me. Looking back, probably he was going to have his share of daily toddy after the long days work....... I am not sure. It can also be that he was going to fetch things from the grocery shop to feed his family,........... I don't know. He had curly hairs, oiled and well combed and his legs and hands were long and masculine. He never used to look at me but walked briskly over the untarred road in a silent and determined gait. Somehow he aroused a strangely mixed feelings of reverence, aversion and fear in me.
As the sun goes off my mother would start shouting repeatedly at me to take bath, have the evening snacks and sit for the daily studies. Before I start with my school books, under the insistence of my parents, I had to go go through the madrassa teachings. As a kid aged around 7, I hardly understood anything of it. My aunt who lived with us would explain to me with lively imageries about god, judgment day, angels, prophet etc. Mostly it was like watching a movie with alternating scenes of terror, order, mercy and care. Her understanding was of course very limited as she never bothered much about contemplating over the fineries. I was always curious to know more and at times she would invent her own stories to silence my pestering.
Whatever it be, the result was that it took me another ten years to realize that prophet Muhammed was a human being ! Till then for me prophets were a set of another fairy creature like angels. And that old man appeared often in my dreams as god ! I don't know where he is now. Even then I didn't knew his name or whereabouts. But I still can recall his face and gait clearly. For how can one forget one's first god....:)
mashoodkk
As the sun goes off my mother would start shouting repeatedly at me to take bath, have the evening snacks and sit for the daily studies. Before I start with my school books, under the insistence of my parents, I had to go go through the madrassa teachings. As a kid aged around 7, I hardly understood anything of it. My aunt who lived with us would explain to me with lively imageries about god, judgment day, angels, prophet etc. Mostly it was like watching a movie with alternating scenes of terror, order, mercy and care. Her understanding was of course very limited as she never bothered much about contemplating over the fineries. I was always curious to know more and at times she would invent her own stories to silence my pestering.
Whatever it be, the result was that it took me another ten years to realize that prophet Muhammed was a human being ! Till then for me prophets were a set of another fairy creature like angels. And that old man appeared often in my dreams as god ! I don't know where he is now. Even then I didn't knew his name or whereabouts. But I still can recall his face and gait clearly. For how can one forget one's first god....:)
mashoodkk
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