Whole Truth Revealed

By Khalique Syed

This is an absolutely factual and truthful narration of occurrences in the life of the author, who is an immigrant from one of the South Asian countries. The events are told in the best possible storytelling manner and are kept as interesting as possible. I had never even thought of writing my true life history because it is mostly a private thing, and customarily, it is guarded as a state secret by almost everyone. It so happened that remaining under continuous threat and depression made me a psychiatric patient, and I had to seek medical help. I was referred to a psychiatrist who, during one of his sessions, advised me to write my life history briefly. I did so and presented the few pages to him during my next visit. He read it and liked the narration. I noticed that after a couple of paragraphs, there was a broad smile on his face, which remained there till end. I decided that I would bring a similar smile on the faces of people who would care to read my recital. Read on, my dear reader. You wouldnt be disappointed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543413663

Khalique Syed

The author is an unknown person from a lower middle class family of a third world country. He had dreams like everyone else and had to struggle very hard during his journey to achieve something in life. En route, he suffered constantly both physically and emotionally. Patience is a virtue in itself and has its dividends. It is said that relax and enjoy when rape is inevitable. He learnt and practiced to be patient when circumstances became extremely intolerable and oppressive. He is not a religious person but he always reverted to his childhood belief and bowed before Allah ( God ) Almighty to implore His Mercy, Compassion and Benevolence. Not surprising that he was always rewarded and granted his prayers. He even had to seek help from a psychiatrist but recovered soon using his sheer and utter determination. After achieving his goal successfully, he decided to write an inspirational book for the good of common human beings. He was also advised by the psychiatrist to do so and before you, dear reader, is the end result of a lifetime’s efforts.

Book preview

Whole Truth

Revealed

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Khalique Syed

Copyright © 2017 by Khalique Syed.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2017905441

ISBN:                   Hardcover                        978-1-5434-1364-9

                            Softcover                          978-1-5434-1365-6

                            eBook                              978-1-5434-1366-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is not a book of fiction but an absolutely true narration of the factual events of my life. However, some names of places, persons and relationships have been changed to respect their privacy. Any resemblance would be purely incidental and me and me alone is responsible for any and all errors, faults and mistakes.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/11/2017

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Whole Truth Revealed ( 1 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 2 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 3 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 4 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 5 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 6 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 7 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 8 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 9 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 10 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 11 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 12 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 13 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 14 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 15 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 16 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 17 )

Whole Truth Revealed ( 18 )

O Allah (God)

You do we worship and Your aid do we seek

First direct divine revelation to the Muslim’s Holy Prophet

Mohammad (peace be upon him)

"Read in the name of thy Lord

Who createth man

out of a mere clot of

congealed blood,

gave him wisdom and

taught him what he knew not"

Al’ Qur’an

IN THE NAME OF ALLAH,

MOST GRACIOUS,

MOST MERCIFUL

WHOLE TRUTH REVEALED

( 1 )

S uddenly, the drums started beating loudly outside the main entrance door of our house and the youngsters gathered outside started shouting in unison in our native language, Mu’barak ho, Mu’barak ho (congratulations, congratulations). It was late afternoon of the spring of 1957 and I was sitting in the verandah with my mother. She was lecturing me on ethics and moral principles and I was listening half heartedly. It was the day when the result of our high school graduation was to be announced and I was keeping my fingers crossed. She said that she would go outside and find out as to what was all the commotion about. She came back with an ear to ear smile on her face, hugged me passionately and kissing me on my forehead as was her custom informed me that I had not only passed my High School Graduation Examination in First Division which was equal to an A but had also stood first amongst my class fellows of the village. I went out because they were calling me. There were so many hugs and slaps on my back that I could hardly stand. They demanded treat on the happy occasion. I came back in and told my mother. She willingly and happily gave me some money which I gave to them and they went away shouting and hollering. The drummers also wanted some reward money for participating in the happy occasion and they were obliged.

I was only fourteen years old at the time and was feeling very important. The news spread rapidly as it does in a small locality and friends and extended family members started coming to our house to congratulate me and other family members. I had to stand up, to embrace and to shake hands with everyone and by the time I slept that night, my hands and body were paining. The zenith and climax of the evening was the arrival of our Head Master (Principal) who arrived with his wife and congratulated me and my parents very enthusiastically. Incidentally, his own son was my class fellow who had managed to pass but was way behind me in marks obtained. I have always admired his greatness, generosity and nobility. Good old times. My younger brother and youngest sister were also very happy and were delightedly receiving congratulations from their own friends. My Dad came back from his job in the evening and was extremely happy to know the admirable success of his First Born. He expressed his happiness by lifting me up on his shoulders and kept circling till he was dizzy. The only other time when he tried to express his happiness in a similar manner was when I was selected as a 2nd Lieutenant for the Armed Forces but he could not lift me up because I had grown up. It was an honor in those days to be selected as an officer in the army and I was the only one from my entire college. But that part later.

I think it appropriate to explain the general lay out of a village house to better understand the incident. The village where I was born and brought up was a small locality with a population of around three thousand. Majority of the people were doing menial unskilled government jobs and a few were middle class farmers. Almost every one owned a brick house and there were also a few mud houses belonging to traders. Every village had its own Cleaners, Barbers, Blacksmiths, Dry Cleaners, Utensil Makers and, of course a mosque for prayers which was looked after by the village’s religious teacher with the financial help of charities and donations. The brick houses were of various sizes but a large court yard in front was a must with a boundary wall of eight feet height and a big door on one side which opened into the street. On the other side was the main house without any backyard. It consisted of a long verandah open in front and a large living room behind it with main door opening in the verandah. On one side of the living room, there was another big room which was a sort of drawing room where the guests were entertained and the other side had a couple of bed rooms. Living Room was also utilized as bed room for children. It was considered best to spend hot and long summer afternoons in the shade and cool of verandah and that is where I was resting and relaxing with my head in my mother’s lap when I received the happy news.

We had separate primary schools for boys and girls in our village. Going back a few years, when I was a student of Primary School i.e. from grade one to four and a few years after that also, I would go to my Mum’s school after I was free from my school. It would be the last period of the day and senior class girls would be busy learning sewing, embroidery and cooking. They would welcome me amongst themselves being the son of their principal, cover me with hugs and kisses and try to teach me these crafts. The innocent child felt happy and would start learning willingly. In turn, I would teach them how to solve mathematical problems. Their generosity made me quite an expert in sewing and embroidery in a couple of years but I did not take interest in cooking. My male friends would be envious but would also tease me that I was learning trades which were meant for girls. I did not mind because it was an interesting pass time and an additional advantage was to have so many girl friends. I would remain there till my mother was free and we would go home together. Sometimes, when my mother had to attend some family function or gathering in the evening she would send me home before hand along with a couple of grown up girls. They would bath me, iron my clothes and change my dirty clothes before the arrival of my mother but I would be so tired that I would be asleep by that time.

I was born as a She’a Muslim in 1943. Not my fault. My Dad was a She’a Muslim and I had to be a She’a Muslim because the religion of every person in this word is governed by one’s birth and not by one’s choice. It was an agricultural society and sons were considered a prize and a matter of pride. So, my father was happy and proud that he had got a son as his first born. We are also Syeds. Syeds claim to be the descendants of our Holy Prophet Mohammad (Peace be upon him). Fortunately or unfortunately, he had only one daughter from his first wife for whom he had great respect because she had remained faithful to him and served him well when he had very rough, tough and hard times while preaching the new religion known as Islam fourteen centuries ago. All of his apostles and disciples wanted the hand of his only daughter but he politely refused. The most pious saint and a very brave person who had won many battles fought against infidels was named Ali who was also the first cousin of the Holy Prophet. Ali had remained loyal and faithful to the Prophet through thick and thin during those difficult and arduous times. The name of the daughter was Fatima. Ali also requested for the hand of Fatima and the Prophet agreed. They were married and had two sons and a daughter. The couple’s descendents are called Syeds. A proud clan among Muslims and well respected because of their heritage. The most unfortunate part is that both sons were killed by and on the instigation of their political opponents. The elder was poisoned by his wife who was part of the conspiracy and the younger one was mercilessly murdered along with the majority of his family members just about fifty years or so after the death of his grandfather Mohammad the Prophet (peace be upon him). He gave a new religion to the world and stands prominently in the line of Prophets Abraham, Moses and Jesus Christ (peace be upon them). It is a very sad history and the mourners of this family are called She’a or She’an - ay - Ali i.e. the lovers of Ali.

We were not very rich but were not poor either. My mother was the principal called Head Mistress in those days of a girl’s primary school and my father was a school teacher in a middle school in a nearby village. He would go in the morning and come back in the evening. We had separate schools for boys and girls in our village. Pay and allowances of school teachers were not much in those days. My father had been preparing me for school during the evenings after taking dinner since my very early childhood. He would sit on my bed and teach me Mathematics and our national language. One fine morning, he took me to the boy’s primary school of our village for admission. The Principal said that I was too young but my Dad insisted. Minimum age required for admission in those days was four years and I was two months younger. My Dad conveniently added two months in my age without any hesitation. Later on, my Dad told me that the principal smiled upon his enthusiasm and being a brother in arms, gave me the admission in Grade One. Birth Certificates during late forties of twentieth century were almost nonexistent though the record of all births and deaths was kept in the Record’s Office of District Head Quarters. A father’s word of mouth was considered authentic. In spite of having two incomes, my mother could never manage the household finances properly. She would spend lavishly when she had money and will borrow from friends and relatives or purchase necessary items from the shops on credit. Sometimes, such vendors came knocking at our door and demanded their money. My Dad would get furious and a big fight will ensue. We were two brothers and a sister. We would go out and seek refuge in the house of our aunt who was our next door neighbour also. She was my father’s younger sister and would always treat us nicely. She would curse our mother for mistreating and causing misfortune to her brother.

Our school had only two rooms with a veranda in front which were reserved for senior classes and rest of the classes would sit outside on the ground under a tree if one was available. We would bring our own sack mattresses to sit on during studies. During bad weather and rains, the junior classes will be told to go home. We will use our sacks as raincoats to protect ourselves and our books from rain and go home laughing, running and shouting happily. Monsoon season was considered to be the best because we would have many off days from school. We would come back home from school when it started raining and throwing off the soaked clothes would put on cotton knickers. All the friends will carry hockey sticks and will go out into the open fields surrounding our village to hunt the rats out of their holes. We were told that the rats were the enemy of a farmer and we should hunt and kill as many as possible. After finding a hole, we would search for a small puddle of water nearby. We would make a narrow line for the water to run from the puddle to the hole. The water would go in the hole rapidly and the rat would come up to the mouth of the hole. I can still see the poor creature looking at us with his innocent eyes before jumping out of the hole and running for his life. All the kids would start running after him laughing and hollering and to finish him off the moment he would jump out of his hole. It was a cruel game but we were just kids and did not have the sense. Another game was something slightly similar to cricket but we did not have proper bats and balls. Hockey sticks and balls made of old torn clothes would suffice. The primary school was up to grade four and was within the village premises but the boys had to walk almost two miles daily both ways to attend high school. The high school started from grade 5 and was up to grade 10. The elders of our village were concerned and started a high school for boys in the village. I was promoted to class five and started going to high school in March, 1951. The system changed in 1952 and 5th grade was made a part of primary school again. One of our class fellows failed and the poor guy had to go back again to primary school. He became a laughing stock for everyone and his friends ridiculed him. Luckily, I remained in high school and graduated in Mar, 1957 with honours. I stood second in my school in a class of eighteen students and was first among my village classmates as explained earlier.

Almighty GOD is the one and the only. HE not only listens to innocent, sincere, heartfelt, earnest, and genuine prayers but also accepts them and helps. I remember a few instances of my childhood and early youth which I shall narrate to clarify and further corroborate my claim. My Mum had some neurological problem and would sometimes suffer very severe headaches.

Neurological diagnostic was not much advanced in those days and there was only one hospital in the district headquarters where they had some foreign qualified Nauru Surgeon. She had an operation at the back of her left ear but the disease did not go though the frequency did decrease. The pain used to be so severe that she would ask me to punch her head with my small fists. I was hardly six or seven years old and my hands would start paining after a while but I would stop only when she realized that I was getting tired and would ask me to. It so happened during an evening of a very severe winter that she started having the pain. It was drizzling outside. She called me and asked me to start my usual duty. I started beating the side of her head. Her moans disturbed me and I felt very helpless and abandoned. I could not tolerate this situation and started praying. I was an innocent child and did not know what to do. An idea started forming up in my mind. I quietly got up and went to the washroom with a hand pump at one side of our courtyard. I washed my hands, feet and face as I had seen her doing while getting ready for prayers. Muslims pray five times a day and use a Prayer Mat which is in every Muslim house for this purpose. I took it and went into the adjoining room. I remembered the prayers because Muslim children start learning the prayers by heart from the time they start school. I stood humbly and started reciting the Arabic words as I had learnt them. I fell prostrate before the mercy, grace and kindness of Almighty Allah (GOD) and implored HIM to help me. I became so emotional that I started crying and weeping in that very position and ultimately was sobbing without any control. I appealed to God that why was I being subjected to such misery, anguish and grief. I went to sleep in that position while weeping and whimpering. I woke up after a while and went to the other room where my mother was lying. I was surprised to see that she was sleeping peacefully and snoring softly. I thanked Almighty profoundly and profusely and ran out to celebrate. I remember vividly and distinctly that she never had the similar pain again.

I started smoking when I was hardly fifteen years old. My cousin who was my next door neighbour and a childhood friend also became a smoker. Both of us were hiding this bad habit from our parents and had advised our brothers and sisters to keep the secret. We would go out together on the pretext of playing and smoke. Once it so happened that we wanted to go out for a smoke but neither of us had a cigarette or money. My cousin requested and begged his younger sister to lend him a quarter. She had saved some quarters and was keeping them hidden. She went into her room and took her savings out. My friend who was following her quietly saw this and snatched all her coins. She started crying and he gave her a few punches also. I was shocked and asked him as to why had he done this deplorable act. His reply was very convincing. He said that she would tell the mother that he had not only snatched her money but had also beaten her and he did not want her to tell a lie. I could not help laughing.

The people from one of our nearby villages were very fond of hunting foxes. They had good horses and a lot many Grey Hounds who had been trained in hunting. There was an old airport near our village which was built and used during WW11. Its sewage system was very long, covered with cement slabs and a place where foxes would take refuge. At least once in a month, fox hunting was carried out there. It would be announced a day earlier and all the kids from surrounding villages would join the excursion. Majority of the kids would be from ordinary families and would take part without any shoes. We both were not any exception and would also join the hunting party bare footed and in knickers. The expedition would last till late in the afternoon and it would be evening by the time we reached home. Our mothers would be furious and we would get good thrashing. One day when we came back and