Sheedaa Paindo!

(Shared by a physician at a doctors' group)

Once upon a time long time ago as it was story time for grandma to tell the same story every time over and over again. But grandma this is the same story from last night. Ok then make your own story . No knowing then as child that I will make my own stories one day. So many stories that time has printed in my mind.

The story of a eucalyptus tree in neighborhoods I wanted to carve my name on it and saved my spending money to buy a knife but I couldn’t hurt the tree housing hundreds of birds and bees. But I wanted to write my own story as grandma told me every since long time ago when life nascent and air was fragrant with wild flowers.

Neighborhood was sparsely populated. Morning time was of empty street as all of us were gone for the day to schools. We all had our jute bags to carry around as sitting mats. Late afternoon was playtime kicking football and winning everything. A bunch of us kids had our neighborhood to ourselves and no one from across the railroad tracks could come and play with us. We believed we were a superior class and didn’t want those inferior kids to play with us.

And then there was Sheeda Paindo.

He did not want to play with us and we didn’t care . He told us that Bashir Bhai told him not to play with us. Bashir Bhai was a lorry driver and we his hero but meant nothing to us the superiors. Sheeda was a skin head and a silly smile the hallmark of his face. We all went to the same school and after fifth he was gone and we did not miss him and his silly smile. He was inferior to us and not worth anything anyway. Life unfolding and time had its own story,, our own stories  Our gang was dispersed and we had our fate and destinies to follow.

All of us went our ways and I forgot to carve my name on the eucalyptus tree. I gave my pride possession, my knife to my younger brother. It made him happy and I didn’t want it anymore.

From Nishtar to New York was journey of hopes and dreams. Of trials and tears. Of torture of residency to triumph of making it happen.

Life had come a long way from dusty streets to glory of life.

My grandma was old and I had to see her one last time before her sunset . I wanted to hug her one last time that I was a big doctor in America. She did not know what America was and told me to come home to old street but I had my destiny and dreams to live. I had to write my own story like she used to tell me every night, make your story.

I needed a car visit her. Where can I rent a car ? You remember Sheedaa Paindo? He owns a rental car business. My jaw dropped. I must see him now and ask for a discount. My met him in his office. He was sitting in a stuffed chair and I was offered a cold drink out of a box. He was happy to see me and offered me a car rent free for the rest of my stay.

Thanks Bhai Sheedaa for the offer.

No Sheeda , I am Chaudhary Abdul Rasheed.

There was no silly smile on his face.