Never Ever Dream Again (Autobiography of Fazal Raziq Shahab), Part 5

Shagai School was upgraded to High Standard, with additional construction and the Central Jail, Saidu Sharif was converted to Wadudia High School after demolition of the old School. As per orders of the Wali Sahib, the ‘barani nullah’ (called Khwarhgai) was considered the dividing line for students. The students living on the south were asked to remain in High School Shagai and the Northerners were to join the new Wadudia High school. We, the Afsarabadian were more lucky as we have our school on five minutes’ walk from our homes.

But one mishap that concerned me, was that our 6th class was divided into A & B sections. My brother was thus separated from me. We tried but the authorities did not changed it. So I lost the shield of my protection. I was exposed to aggressive bullying lot but most of the teachers knew my father and they soon did away with my troubles.

There were boys of different types and age and I have to remain on edge every time. My brother kept me company in break time and then going together to home. In 1956, we passed our Middle Standard exam from Peshawar University. As usual my brother outclassed me by a few marks.

This was the crucial moment of change in my life. Sher khan urged my father to send Fazli Wahab to Bombay. My father thought it might bring his son back and agreed to send my real brother Fazali Wahab to India. My elder brother was a true copy of my father. Firm, faithful, pious, strong character, dauntless, sincere and mostly sober. He laughed little, hated dirty words nor only for himself but for others also. He had a sense of humour but not vulgar type of jokes. In my child hood, I often had eyes sore each year in summer. My brother would take me to hospital daily, catching my hand. In those days eye sores were treated in an old fashioned strange way. A male nurse would wash the eyes out and inside with very warm water, then drop some drops of medicine into each eye and blindfolded the patient, first putting sanitized cotton on the eyes and then tie with clean white cloth.

Now I would be unable to see, so my brother would take my hand and guide me to move. Some time he would ask me to jump across, telling me it was some drain, so I jumped but it would be plan ground. He would laugh at me and my helplessness. But he was my guardian. I felt his absence the very next day when he left for Bombay.

To Be Continued…

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