By Alamgirkhan
(I had written this in 2003)
“People of all trades and
professions leave home in the morning to earn their livelihood. They have a
firm belief to return home in the evening with something or other to make both
ends meet. But a student is the one who performs his duty whatever the
circumstances or conditions are. He faces lots of hardships during his career. Still
he has not the slightest belief of getting the reward at the end”. This is the
observation of a retired principal. And it seems very much true to me when I look
back at my student life.
My parents got me admitted in a government
primary school when I reached four years of age. They must have envisioned me
as a successful and useful citizen and a great man in the future. I myself also
shared their great expectations. With the dreams of a bright future I started
my journey towards a Utopian destination. As a matter of fact from the very beginning
I realized the challenges of this enterprise.
The lessons were taught there in
Urdu and Pashto. The hard practice of memorizing the tables and the stick in
the teacher’s hand made me think again about my future dreams. To me the
teacher was the most powerful and fearful creature the earth ever witnessed. Never
daring to be absent from the school I was punctual only half-heartedly. The last
hours of the weekend used to be the most agonizing due to the fear of going to school again the next morning,
after an eventful, pleasant day of freedom and fun. One of the injustices was
that I got punishment from the teacher even before I committed some wrong, but
never a prize even years after I got some achievement. Though I had some
inspiring teachers and a few good friends, as a whole the school life seemed to
me like fourteen years imprisonment of the Count of Monti Cristo in an
underground dungeon.
The first change occurred when
after four years I got promoted to the middle section. There I had to face a
new subject, English. The new and strange letters seemed barking and biting at
me. Math, Science and Social Studies were taught in Urdu but in sixth class Pashto
became the medium. The teacher punished us for not bringing books where the
fact was that they were not available in the market. In seventh and eighth the
books were again in Pashto. This shifting of Urdu and Pashto created a lot of
problems for us. On the other hand English continued terrorizing us with all
its agonies of translations, tenses and spellings etc. To cut a long story
short we got into high section. Here again a few monsters lay hidden in the
form of Physics, Biology and Chemistry taught in Urdu.
It was a hard test to cope with them
because I had never heard even their names before. Besides these terrifying
subjects the bullies of the stronger boys, the fear of teachers, harsh weather
and black worn out uniform continuously haunting me like ghosts. The coming
near of the board exam was like the approach of the dooms day.
Somehow or the other after the
SSC exam I got admission in the college. It was completely a new world, here again
the sudden change from Urdu to English stunned me, Physics, Math and Chemistry was
taught in English. Again I had to face it along with the brutal fooling of the
senior boys. At last I discarded Science group in favour of Arts in BA. During
the first three years of my college life the most depressing thing for me was
the English teacher, who was a new version of clever imposter. Any how we got
some compensation in the sincere and devoted personality of our Urdu teacher. I
wanted to do my MA in Pashto but because of English as compulsory subject I couldn’t
pass BA.
With a broken heart I left my
education incomplete. After a year of wandering in the wilderness I got a
teaching job in a private primary school. It was like out the frying pan into
the fire. Released from the bondage of government teachers, when my turn of
teaching came, it was to the students of private schools, who considered the
teacher as their slave. After three years of being sandwiching between the
school owner and the students, I got neither money nor respect.
Once again trying to change my
life for the better I joined a pharmaceutical company as a medical
representative. I had to promote my sale through gifting and sampling, and in
the process looting not only the poor patients but their worried relatives too.
I lost whatever self-respect and conscience I had.
My aspirations, inspirations and
expectations all gone with the wind , my dreams of putting a helping hand in
the march towards progress of my beloved country shattered , I decided to go
abroad.
Now I am giving by blood to the
dust and sands of the deserts of Arabia to develop them into gardens, while
mourning the ruthless decay of my own garden.
