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Never Ever Dream Again (Autobiography of Fazal Raziq Shahab), Part 8

Now back to 1956, as my brother was in section A, another boy from Saidu Sharif became my desk fellow. He was from a poor family than mine. His father used to sell ‘Nawsar’ in Saidu Bazar and was called Naswari Mama. I never asked the boy what was the real name of his father. This boy called Saifurgai, was very shortsighted and kept the book close to his eyes to read. He became great Educationist later and lived in his own modern, comfortable house.

One morning two boys entered the class room. One was carrying two satchels. One was his own and the other, he carried for the other boy. We learnt that the new comer was from village Thana and son of some great mullah, who once was tutor of one of the Wali’s son. The other boy was his servant, also a student but his duty was to carry the books of the other boy called Sahibe Haq. He came straight to me and took the seat of Saifurgai. I asked him that the seat is already occupied. He retorted that he would sit here and no one can dare to prevent him. His servant boy sat on the last line of Benches. When Saifurgai came to class and asked the new comer to leave his seat, he received a hit on the chest from Sahibe Haq. He announced no one to bother him again. The teacher shrugged his shoulders when Saifurgai complained and said he could not ask the brute to leave the seat.

After a few days of good behavior and sweet talk, this boy suddenly changed his attitude to me. He started praising my looks in exaggerated phrases like poets do. The whole class knew I was an ordinary looking boy, almost unlikeable. But this S.O.B continued his lies, teasing me. I knew my complaint against him will have no result, so I told my brother. He slapped him and asked him to stop his advances. But he was a shameless duck and on the contrary, complained against my brother. The Head Master advised my brother to keep his hands off the boy. One day, sitting by my side, he put his hands on my thigh. I pushed his hand back. He again did the same and moved a little further, touching the top of my… I felt a sensational current running through my body. He waited for some time. Suddenly I understood, he was expecting to return his “good gesture”. But I remained motionless, wishing he should draw back his hand. All of a sudden, the teacher asked me some question and stood up to answer with a sigh of relief. Providence intervened.

Before my brother was to leave for Mumbai after exam, the dirty minded pervert boy was expelled from the State on the complaint of a more important V.I.P, and we got relieved of the Persona Non Grata.

To Be Continued…

Fazal Raziq Shahab belongs to the historic village of Aboha, Swat. His writings on Swat State provides very useful information to the general readers and researchers. He remained Swat State functionary and thus observed the happenings of the State very closely. He is the author of two books and his Columns has been a regular feature of Daily Azadi, Bakhabarswat.com and Lafzuna.com.
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Fazal Raziq Shahab belongs to the historic village of Aboha, Swat. His writings on Swat State provides very useful information to the general readers and researchers. He remained Swat State functionary and thus observed the happenings of the State very closely. He is the author of two books and his Columns has been a regular feature of Daily Azadi, Bakhabarswat.com and Lafzuna.com.
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