Childhood Memoires – Part 2

Continued from Childhood Memoirs - Part I

~ There was a pond close to our house, and it had several plants, including trees, in and around it. During Autumn time, it’d be filled with all sorts of leaves, but in Spring time, it’d be all green, so green you couldn’t tell it’s a pond; it looked JUST like a “chaman,” all green and stuff. One day, my relatives were over from another village, and I took some of my cousins to the pond… and the scenery was breathtaking. The whoooooooole pond looked like it was all sheen kabal and you could sit and relax in it. So I told a cousin of mine to jump in it :D:D:D And, mind you, the pond was deep too :O He must have jumped in it because I remember laughing my head off. hah.

(Seriously, that was just cruel. I think they should have a sign there that says “Jawarey uba! Daa kabal na dey; da lobo da para na dey. Mehrabani wakai ao laree te osai!” or something like that.)

~ ALLLLLL the kanzal (profane words/phrases) I know today, I learned from a group of boys who used to play tikaan/marbles near my aunt’s house in this area we called kandar.

~ This one is REALLY bad, and I feel horrible about it today and have repented numerous times and have even repaid the family, but the guilt won't go away: You see, I hated the poor children in my neighborhood because my mother would sometimes take my most favorite clothes and shoes and other stuff and give them to the kids! I’d cry and beg for them to remain mine, and mom would say, “Daa maa manalee dee. Wass ye za da Khwdey na sanga wapas rawakhlam, lewanai.” And I’d cry for hours and hours and hours… and take my anger out on the children who’d then wear those clothes!! One of the girls, I used to pinch her like hell. Like this one time, she was trying to close the door to this house, and I was standing behind the door and as I saw her hand on it while the door was closing, I held her hand and pinched it soooooo hard. She started crying but silently so that no one heard. Her mom had climbed the wall of her house and was seeing me do this. She said, “Zrra de khwashala sho?”

I showed absolutely NO remorse at that time :S (And, Gosh! That family loved me so much. When that woman got a daughter, she said to me, “I was going to name her after you but then I thought your family might mind.” I was about 10 years old, and I thought, “But why would they mind it? It’s not like I’m the only person with this name, or that this name belongs only to me.”
And I still don’t know why some people should take it as an offense if someone’s named after them. Why is it considered a bad thing? . . .)

hah.
 
~ Umm… I hate doing khatmuna and stuff for anyone for any reason! :S On Fridays, the first 30 minutes of our Quran class would be spent doing khatmuna because some family would always send a request to our teacher to make us do khatam on their behalf! So our teacher would use us for it (I was the littlest and youngest student in this group of girls, whose ages ranged from maybe 15 to maybe 35; we were the “advanced” group learning translation, not recitation, of the Quran. And so we were supposed to be able to handle khatmuna pretty much every Friday while the other students didn't have to.). So!!! You know what I’d do?! To resist it, I’d either go like rrrrrrreally late, or then once I’d reach there and start the khatam, I’d cheat soo much… Oh man, how I cheated! I’d pretend to be reading it, but in reality, I’d just be moving my lips really fast and turning pages every now and then and rocking my body back and forth. God. It was totally normal.

Whaaaaaaat!! I was a KID! NO ONE should torture little children with so much burden as having them finish a whole sipaara of the Quran in one setting! Or reading Surah Yaseen ten times in one setting – not when they’re like seven or eight years old, kha huo! So unfair. I actually used to feel really bad cheating, and I’d worry that if the person’s wish didn’t come true, it must be my fault. So to compensate for it, I’d cry to God to fulfill the purpose of the khatam even though I’d cheated on it because I don’t wanna go to hell for it (Oh! The pressures they put on sweet innocent children! May they be forgiven for it!)

I now wonder if anyone else did/does the same! I’m SO never asking anyone to do khatmuna for me. Never. Please, let me ask my God myself what I need from Him.

~ My other favoritest memory: When this ghwaai/bull took my younger sister in its khkaraan/horns and lifted her into the sky and dropped her to the ground. :D I think she hit an apple tree, though something tells me she was stuck in the tree until my grandpa rescued her. But I’m not sure.
So, yeah :D That was fun :D (But at that time, my mom wasn’t present, so I was really, REALLY sad for my sister and even cried with her for her pain. But now … yeah, we laugh about it :D)

~ My Quran teacher had a niece named … Mumlikat? Malkiyat? One of these. (‘s been ten years since I last heard or used these names. My God.) I think it was Malkiyat. Anyway, so she was my friend. Now, I hated and still hate fighting people, but sometimes … people just compel you, you see!! This Malkiyat girl and I started a fight while in the (Quran) class one day, and since I had a rrrrreally good reputation there, I couldn’t ruin it by fighting with the teacher’s niece, kana. So I told her to let’s continue it once class is over at such and such place (the place I told her was, um, far from her house, of course, so that her aunt would never come to know about it, lol). Daaaaamn, man, I tell you! When we had that fight, it was good. I pulled her hair SO hard some strands literally came off, and I punched her eye so hard she cried. And when she started crying, I ran away and went home. The next day, Thursday, we didn’t have class, so on Friday, I was scared to death, thinking that she must have told her family and all and I’ll be punished for it. No one seemed to have known about it :D

P.S. I still do this to people who fight with me. Just a little warning. ;) Men’s/boys’ short hair makes it all the more not only fun but painful as well!

Ahhhh!! Such sweetness from childhood! There are many more, of course, but I should stop here, no? :) There were bad ones, too, though ~cries loudly~ Like that time when my 1st and 2nd grades teacher had me and this classmate of mine (my opponent) slap each other while he just sat there and enjoyed it :S I have no bloody idea why he bloody had us do such a bloody thing like that!! He apparently got pleasure from it! It wasn’t rare that he’d force us to slap each other for hours until we’d start crying and just fall to the floor, begging him to let us stop! When we’d cry, he’d say, “What?!? hahahahha! You’re scared of each other! Such cowards you are!” When we’d stop, he’d say, “Do you want ME to hit you? No, I’m sure you don’t because you know I won’t spare you. Then don’t stop.” When we’d take a break, he’d say, “HURRY! HURRY! Shaabase! No taking breaks, you chickens!” And so we’d continue until we just couldn’t anymore, changing hands every now and then!

This teacher’s name was Asadullah, and I THINK he was from Sirsinrai! Someone, please make him suffer for what he did!!! :@ Or then I hope he was BUTCHERED by the Taliban!!!! Unless he sincerely regretted what he did and spent his life begging God to forgive him for it!!!

The classmate’s name was/is Ayaz Ahmad, and he was/is from Dadahara. One brilliant guy he was. His father and I were SUCH good friends! :D He adored me for no apparent reason. Once took me, my sister, and my brother along with Ayaz and his siblings and cousins to the riverside, near their house (Dadahara has so much water, nazara na shee), and we had this awesome picnic there. We swam and fished and ate and talked and enjoyed – until it was time for my Quran class. The teacher used to take money from you if you ever missed a day, and so I didn’t wanna miss any!

Maaaaaaaaaayyyynnn....!!

~ Ohhh wait! :D Lemme add how this one time ... :D:D:D I fell off this swing :O (I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE swinging.) My father had, um, tied(?) it. I don't know the English word for it, but in Pukhto, it'd be "taal zaangawal," I think. And it was there for several years until it fell off at last! Then after that, we sisters and cousins would try to "tie" it to the ceiling ourselves, and it was never as stable as it oriignally had been. One day, I was swinging on it, and my sisters were pushing me. I was going SO high that I could see my cousins and aunts faaaaaar below my house. We were on the second floor, and they were far away and on the first floor. And my cousins had all come out to see me swinging so high and I was being all brave and stuff and was waving at them. And then ... BOOM!! I fell!!!!! After a few seconds when they didn't see me anymore, they all ran to my house and said, "DID SHE FALL? DID SHE FALL???" hahahahha ... and I was hiding in the room, lol. I swear I got lucky, man, because I tell you, I could've so easily fallen down to the first floor and broken every bone in my body. But I didn't -- da khwdey loy shukar dey!