Confession

Nicholar D Kristof is an American journalist, author, columnist and winner of two Pulitzer Prizes. He is widely known for exposing human rights abuses around the world. He is one of few journalists who have travelled twice to Iran. He recently travelled to West Bank and was teargassed by Israeli Security Forces.

I was touched by his article on the eve of Fathers day entitled " My father's gift to me" that appeared in the International Herald Tribune in which he recounts how his father an Armenian hailing from a noble family was imprisoned by Nazis and how he managed to escape to the United States where he learned English, earned his Doctorate at the University of Chicago and began his career as Political Science Professor. He quotes the following statement of his father " War, want, concentration camps, exile from home and homeland, these have made me hate strife but they have not made me loose faith in the future of humanity. If a man has been able to create arts, sciences and material civilisation, why should he be judged powerless to create justice, fraternity and peace".

The author laments that he feels fatherless on Fathers day as his father had died a few days ago at the age of 91 after leaving " a story book life " to his only child. He opines that we should celebrate the bequest of fatherhood with some thing simpler, deeper than artificial verse on store brought card. "Speak and hug from heart and soul while there is still time".

Another columnist - I don't remember his name- was explaining in one of his articles how much he missed his late father when he visited a particular spot together with his mother and how his mother sobbed adding that they would return to the same location next year when his father would be waiting there for them .
These are words of true love, affection and appreciation. I was with my parents during the last days of their lives . It was a golden opportunity to ask them to pardon my misbehaviour and misdeeds but I was too shy to do so. Now when some one misbehaves to me I rationalise it presuming that God is punishing me for mistreating my parents especially my father as I always had a soft corner for my mother. When I say mistreat I mean my arguments and disagreements with my father and my failure to rationalize their behaviour and nothing beyond that.
16 years have elapsed since my father left this world for good. Here in Doha when my friends call me Saidukka or Saidbhai or said , they in fact help me sustain my memories about my father . Whenever I visit my parents' graves while I am at home, I feel their proximity as if they are alive. Irrespective of his financial status, my father tried to educate me even if it involved knocking at doors he had never approached. I learned from him the principle of contentment and therefore I learned not to cherish any higher aspirations. He was very eager to preserve our dignity and was never ready to compromise on this matter. I used to go Edakkazhiyoor lower primary school, then known as Mannan School with our neighbours like Late Mohamed S/O Kader Musliyar, Velan etc. Mohamed had a very nice school bag in which once I put my books and carried it based on his request. I was not mature enough to realize the implications of such an act. I have to confess that I still act recklessly at many crucial issues. When my father caught me doing so, he did not scold me in front of my friends but when I returned from the school, he asked me not repeat it. Once Latheef's paternal uncle, the famous muezzin of Edakkazhiyur mosque, Mohamedkka, censured me for running here and there in the mosque while I was learning there. I obeyed him but did not forget to complain as usual to my father about him. My father went to question him but the poor man who commanded respect and reverence from our villagers due to his simple life and, his unique voice which pierced not only through the ears but touched the hearts of our villagers when he was calling for prayer, apologised saying that his purpose was not to harm me in any way but to teach me how to respect the sanctity of the mosque. When my father told me how he had questioned him and what his response was, I felt deeply disturbed and sorry and thought I should not have lodged any complaint with my father . May Allah forgive me for harming such a person.

By the father