The Childhood Secret,
It was the first days of her second grades, she might be happy or excited or nervous, she has forgotten the actual feelings as it was greatly previous. After 13 years, this year, 2011, she has remembered the only childhood’s secret, and told to her family, when she is 21.
The secret was veiled from her parents, that from the second grades till to her fifth grades, every day the friendless girl had to give her 2 rupees to her neighbor’s daughters, every day when she was taking anything to her school such as new pen, pencils, and eating staffs, they were the sisters’.
She was granting to them for years; by the end of those years she forgot that it was for keeping the secret but as a way of Giving Habit of the lonely girl. As soon as the girl’s family moved to another home, far away from the sisters. The secret and the habit were flown away very far from the mind of the girl.
She told to her parents the secret, that
One of those war days, the teacher stood her up, and asked her name and her father’s name.
The next question was a totally different question for her, the teacher asked, “How many God do we have?”
The girl had heard the name of Allah many times, but never knew how many are there?
She answered, “We have too many.”
The slap on the right side of the girl’s face under her ear opened the lake of the watery tears in the eyes. The teacher asked another student to answer the question, she answered, “Khodawand yaki ast, shareek wa manand nadara,We have only one Allah, there is only one God, Allah.”
The teacher's harassed eyes conqured the girl’s mind and said to her, “Did you hear well, there is only Allah, not Gods.”
The girl answered, “But I have Allah, you have Allah, and she has Allah, and everyone has Allah, so how can be only one Allah.”
The teacher told to the students that it was one of the signs to belonging to an infidel, Kaffir, family. She was shouting and screaming on the girl’s face telling that her parent might not be praying five times a day, she might not have any parents, she might be an orphan.
The girl's face was wet from the tears and they were many different pictures of her parents on her head, still she does not remember what was going on into her mind.
The teacher took her hand and threw her out of the class and locked the door from inside. The girl remained outside the door of knowledge for an hour crying and saying words, which are not remember able for her.
She was crying, crying, and crying, until a teacher saw her. The teacher came to her and asked the reason for shading her sliver tears, the girl told all the story. The teacher took the girl into the class and requested from her teacher to accept her as student and give her another chance. Her teacher accepted her as student but for the next day, she had to write 15 pages filled with the two great sentence for Allah’s Greatness and holiness, “Khudawand Yaki ast, shareek wa manand nadarad.” She did write, and learnt that Allah is one, but still she is in doubt of accepting her duty as a teacher, as we once had a great teacher, a teacher of teachers, Prophet Mohammad 'pbuh'. The teacher might have forgotten those words, but the girl remembers her teacher's words for her parents' insulting all the time.
However, he secret detonated in a blocked classroom of around 23 students and the teacher and the girl and the daughter's of her neighbor.
After that she promised the sisters that they should keep it as secret forever, and they asked her to give them everyday anything she brought to school, and she accepted for not being called UnMuslim by them and then others. Thus, everyday she was telling her parents that she lost her new pens, pencils, notebooks, and money.
After telling, the secret spilled up into the air of the house with an enormous amazement. The father, mother, brothers, and sisters were listening to her standing up for telling the secret of 13 years. The tears in her eyes were telling that she had to keep it as a shelled secret; it might be because her parents were too much busy with the broken life of immigration in another country, Pakistan. Or it might be because she was an Afghan girl among other and the lack of knowledge about her beliefs, instead of learning the knowledge of Islam; she was walking on the fire of fighting and forgot to learn. Or the fear of the girl might be for not beings called UnMuslim by the neighbor’s daughters and then by the others. Or, she might be afraid of bounding her parent's high dignity and responsibilities for retelling those insulting words toward their duties and hope for her.
However, at the last the mother came close to her and took her head with her hands and said, “Dear Parwana, you did not have to scare for telling us this secret, but it is never late for standing up to tell the secret.”
And I answered, “I am now on my own land, very far away from those people, country, and environment; thus, I told you.”
My mother thanked me for opening my childhood feelings, wisdom, and daughterhood.
Thank you mother for letting me to stand up and tell you the truth, which always bothered me for not telling you, when I was 13.