Mera Lahore

(Received as a forward. A true account written by Dr. Naeem Siddiqui at California)

It was the last show ending at midnight. Three of us just left the Regal Cinema after we enjoyed our last movie together. Our lives were in limbo. Dreams, fear, and uncertainty of the future were clouding souls. We all wanted to do something big but did not know what that big thing was? I had just finished my medical school and Ahmad wanted to go to NCA, just wanted to see girls. Anis had finished his BSc in Physics. His father had passed away and he inherited this tea stall at the corner of Mall Road near Pak Tea House. We had one bicycle and had to go to Sanda. Two of us got on the bike and the third one had to push it to turn by turn. It was midnight and Mall Road was lonely except for three shadows on a bike. We made it to his home and had to feed ourselves. Not much to eat except leftover beans and few naans. The food was cold but we were hungry. Anis was always quiet and never shared his thoughts except to crack a joke occasionally. I had my dream to come to America and for me all that mattered. 

America America! why are you so far? 

Early in the morning, we headed to our homes to face another day of hope and a foggy future. I wanted something to happen but time was indifferent to my plight and plans. I had a dark moment hanging over my head like a swarm of bees. I needed money and that is something I had never my life. I used to live like a prince at Nishtar with a nonstop supply of books to boots and socks to sweaters from England where father was working in a steel factory, night shift to earn more for our education. I had graduated and wasn’t going’s to ask my father to bail me out. 

The next day was another day with Anis and Ahmad for our midnight ritual. It was midnight and dark and I could hide my face or at least I thought so. Anis, I am very ashamed but I need your help. I need some money. With batting an eye he handed me all that he had earned that day selling tea in hot summer next to a kerosene stove. 400 Rupees and that is all he had. A few months later I left Lahore not to return for another 10 years. 

Life has its own plans overriding ours. I had to find Anis but his brother had taken over the tea stall he was not in contact with Anis. I lost Anis and Ahmed had gone to Germany. Back to NY and the endless brutal fight to survive and succeed in a residency had consumed my time and life and I forgot Anis. Another ten years filtered through my palm like dry sand. I had to find Anis but he fell off the face of the earth. 

In my rare moments of solitude, I kept his kindness alive and finally, I found him. 

He was married and had a daughter, doing odd jobs in Lahore. Hello Anis,,,, this is Naeem. I owe you some money. I don’t remember, he said. But I do and told him about midnight escapes and watching the Movie Collector. I am paying you back and I don’t have words to say what I want to say. 

That is what friends do for friends. You owe me nothing. 

That is the Lahore ... My Lahore. 

PS:  The Tea Stall is still there on the mall next to Pak Tea House. It is bonded.