By Izatullah Mushfiq\u00a0 =Translated By Safia Haleem
\nThe teacher\u2019s son also smiled and said \u201c He was told that the Afghans are very hospitable nation .<\/p>\n
The news spread that an American delegation is coming to our camp.\u00a0 There was an unknown excitement felt around and suddenly all the men and children were heading towards one direction.\u00a0 My heart leapt and I felt electric shocks in my body.\u00a0 I jumped on my feet and headed out, but turned back with the same speed and went to the mud oven built in one corner of the courtyard. My God this is the best time, the right moment and God given opportunity to complain to them.\u00a0 Yes! Yes !\u00a0 I was thinking fast, this is the day to open my heart to these Americans.<\/p>\n
I wanted to shout and let the whole world listen to me about our sufferings.\u00a0 For the past few months, what I was eating as bread couldn\u2019t have been called bread by anyone in this world.\u00a0 It did not look like bread, it didn\u2019t even taste like bread.\u00a0 What we were having was something looked round, dark brown almost black, stringy with sand particles in it which would fight with your teeth when you chewed it.<\/p>\n
The bread was made from wheat which was distributed by some agency who bought that with American money, so we heard.\u00a0 But we have been given stale wheat,\u00a0 and bread made with this bread gave many of my friends constipation.\u00a0 Everyone talked about this wheat, but we had no choice.\u00a0 This was the only food we had and some people thought we should be thankful.\u00a0 But this was not the point.\u00a0 The point was why and who is responsible.\u00a0 Probably Americans!\u00a0 Yes!\u00a0 I must ask this question from the Americans who were visiting our camp.<\/p>\n
Actually, there were not one but several questions in my mind, and the real question was, how am I going to ask all these questions in English.\u00a0 The other question was how I will make them understand.<\/p>\n
Because I don\u2019t know any English.\u00a0 Then I thought, they must have an interpreter.\u00a0 But will I be allowed to ask these questions?\u00a0\u00a0 With all my anxiety, I picked one bread from the lot which were being baked for Lunch,\u00a0 and looked for my Pattoo.\u00a0 Then I felt embarrassed,\u00a0 just in case somebody sees it and laughs at me, just in case my rivals are also there.<\/p>\n
Then I hesitated and felt like leaving the bread at home and go without it.\u00a0 But I needed an evidence and without the bread how would the Americans know what I am talking about.\u00a0 I was reluctant but then I couldn\u2019t help and wrapped the bread tightly in my Patto so that it was not visible, and walked towards the wheat distribution centre.\u00a0 This centre was called Commandry and the head of this centre, of course,\u00a0 was not a commander but a Babu Sahib.\u00a0 I saw the same faces in that centre, that I am not very fond of, the same trousers and hats, you know whom I mean.<\/p>\n
There was high security around and the delegation was already there.\u00a0 A lot of people were swamping around them like bees and I couldn\u2019t see what they looked like.\u00a0 I forced myself in the crowed, made my way through by pushing a few and kicking the others and finally got through to the foreigners.\u00a0 I was a bit disappointed, because there was only one white face.\u00a0 The rest of the delegation had faces like mine.\u00a0 Anyway what I saw was reassuring.\u00a0 This White man looked proud like a prince and was sitting in a relaxed mood,\u00a0 listening to a brown man whose hair was smeared with oil and he was the one interpreting whatever the villagers were saying to him.<\/p>\n
My heart sank,\u00a0 because the brown man was not known to me but suddenly my spirits raised as I saw my teacher\u2019s son standing behind the foreigner.\u00a0 I knew that he could speak English because he was attending the English classes for some times, but the best thing for me was that he was standing right behind the white man. I took out my bread from the Pattoo, and with my eyes, beckoned the teacher’s son to plead on my behalf.\u00a0 He replied back the same way tilting his head slightly and rolling his eyes as if to tell me that everyone was not allowed to speak to the white man.<\/p>\n
A few moments passed between the two of us asking and replying discreetly, but at that moment perhaps the foreigner saw my movements.\u00a0 I certainly felt it was my lucky day because the white man pointed his finger at me and said something to his interpreter in English.\u00a0 The interpreter asked me what I wanted to say.\u00a0 I complained\u2026.. and in one long sentence said what was on everybody\u2019s mind.\u00a0 I raised my hand with the black bread in it and pointed with the left hand in order to emphasise my point.<\/p>\n
The interpreter translated what I said and I was very pleased that my complain was heard by the white man.\u00a0 My hopes elevated, and I told my self, I will not have to put up with the stale blackened bread anymore.<\/p>\n
The white man looked pleased, he smiled and started thanking me.\u00a0 I was suspicious why he was thankful.\u00a0 I got confused,\u00a0 and became more and more miserable as the delegation members left their seats and everyone started dispersing.\u00a0 The delegation seemed to be leaving and I did not have any reply let alone any reassurance about the bread.\u00a0 I did not need thanks, I wanted some action, I wanted an answer, a reply.<\/p>\n
My bread was totally ignored by everyone, including the white man.\u00a0 When they left, I asked the teacher\u2019s son what was said to the white man that he smiled and then thanked me.\u00a0 The teacher\u2019s son also smiled and said \u201c He was told that the Afghans are very hospitable nation and this man ( myself ) wants to invite you to a meal.\u00a0 Because he does not speak English, that\u2019s why he brought this bread with him to make you understand\u201d\u00a0 I sighed and walked home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
By Izatullah Mushfiq\u00a0 =Translated By Safia Haleem The teacher\u2019s son also smiled and said \u201c He was told<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1350,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[108],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1916","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture"],"yoast_head":"\n