CHILDREN OF A LESSER GOD

Amanat, the father of four little children, sat on a broken charpoy with his head in his hands. Sitting close to him on the floor was his wife, Rakhee. Whilst Rakhee ground the flour, Amanat sat and contemplated about the future of the family. Illiterate and jobless, he wasn’t a specimen to behold. Even the children seemed to be surprised that there father wasn’t going to work. And as a consequence, the eldest daughter Nazia had been pushed into becoming a domestic servant for one of the rich urban families. Of course Nazia was barely eleven when she had been ushered into washing dishes, washing clothes, dusting the floors and a host of other activities. And she had been verbally abused many a time by the lady for whom she worked. It was a torrid time for her. At a time when she should have been playing and studying, she had been pushed into doing work.

Her elder brother, Zeeshan, had also been pushed into taking a job as a day laborer. He was seventeen and the eldest. Alas he had only studied five classes before Amanat had taken him out of school. Now he was employed at one of the construction sites in a posh locality where a house was being constructed and Zeeshan employed as a laborer toiled under the boiling sun which often crossed forty degree Celsius. Quite often Zeeshan had suffered a heat stroke and now he had refused to work. But when he did so, his father had not spoken gently and kindly to him. Instead he had been harsh and had violently struck hard at him and given him a beating. Of course Nazia had tried to intervene and save her son, but Amanat in a rush of blood, gave her a beating as well. The younger kids horridly witnessed this episode and they were quite scared.

Amanat was hardly educated himself. He had spent most of his life picking up menial jobs, most of it had to do with working as a day laborer at various construction sites. It was the only thing that he knew apart from working at a small time restaurant when he was young. At the young age of twenty two, he had been married off to Nazia who was his cousin. Times had been happier and easier when they did not have so many children but it was Nazia who had always dreamt of having many children and God had blessed her with so many of them. But now Amanat was anxious about how he would provide for them. Education and literacy, in his mind was a waste of time. These kids had to be pushed into work, so they knew about the toils of life from a small age. Moreover the survival of the big family unit was only possible with their contributing to its survival. For the time being, Nazia, Zeeshan and Rakhee were the chief contributors.
Unfortunately he was out of work.


Amanat sat on the charpoy cursing his luck. Why had he been born into a poor family? Life had been toil since he had been born. As a young boy, he had once fallen seriously taken ill with a stomach infection. His parents who were very poor and illiterate did not have the means to pay for his treatment. They rushed him to a local herbalist within the village but the medicine which he gave him only worsened his condition. It was only the timely intervention of a neighbor who lent his father some money that they finally went to a local hospital for treatment. It was only then that Amanat recovered from sickness. Amanat remembered being one of several brothers and sisters himself. And there had never been enough food at home for one reason or the other. There had been some days when his mother had given him bread and some spices as food. Rare was the day, when his parents had been able to feed him and his siblings with meat and chicken. Instead they subsisted on vegetables. Even rare were the days when they had fruit to eat.

Amanats father worked as a vegetable salesman at one of the many bazaars in the city. Feeding five mouths wasn’t easy. Educating them had been impossible. When Amanat had been nine years old, his father took him to a local workshop so he could learn how to become a mechanic. Barely nine, Amanat remembered being bullied by the elder men over there. Some of them would at times play with him. And then there were a few who let out their frustrations in life by beating him up. Tired of being roughed up and beaten, Amanat one day took a monkey wrench and struck it hard on the shoulder +of one of the workers who beat him up on a regular basis. That was the last day that he worked at the workshop. Of course, his father took him home and gave him a beating of his life.
His father had become a regular junkie addicted to charas, cannabis and consuming alcohol. Amanat would often find him smoking charas filled cigarettes with bloodshot eyes. At times, he would often see him return home drunk and in a rage. Amanats mother started hiding away any money that she earned for she was afraid that her husband would waste it away on his addiction. She tried to reform his father but one day in a fit of rage Amanats father killed his mother. It was a sad day for Amanat and his siblings for their father had murdered the only person that loved them. Amanats father was locked up in prison for life and Amanat and his siblings were handed over to the care of an orphanage. It was lucky for them that their uncles and aunts decided to adopt them.

Though they went into different households, they were lucky that they had been taken in not by orphanages, but their own relatives. Amanats uncle and aunt did not have a child of their own. Therefore they were very pleased to raise him up. His uncle worked as a helping hand at a small run down restaurant which provided food and tea, mostly to the poor. Though he did not earn much, but he was happy with what he earned. Amanat was very happy because he had not experienced that much of love and affection by his real parents. Moreover Amanats uncle would take him to the park, to the zoo and to local fairs whenever they were held. And his aunt would buy him new clothes whenever possible. There was much to eat and for the first time in many years Amanat was not hungry. However Amanats uncle also failed to see the benefits of an education. So he took Amanat to the restaurant where he worked and Amanat was appointed as a helping hand. Soon his nickname at the restaurant was ‘chota’ which literally meant ‘ the young one’. As a young boy, Amanat would be running around serving tea to the numerous customers that would frequent the restaurant. And frequently they would tip him.

There were some days, when relatives would get together and Amanat would have the chance to meet all his siblings. Of course these events involved tearful reunions. But Amanat was happy when he would hear them talk about the love, care and affection showered over them.

But where there were days of happiness and joy there were also days when he fell terribly sick. Sleeping in the open on charpoys during the hot summer nights, the nightmare began when the mosquitoes in the open bit and stung at will. Of course they had a pedestal fan would the fan would not ward them off. So they resorted to using mosquito coils and applying mosquito repellant liquid upon themselves. Quite often than not, he would wake up with his skin red and itching where the mosquitoes had bitten him. Of course, the intense summer heat and the stifling nights were another thing that Amanat hated. He was sweating most of the time and feeling thirsty as well. Of course, Amanats uncle would buy ice and he would place it within a cooler full of water. Sometimes they would pour sherbet into it and enjoy it.

Amanat would often look forward to it raining and therefore the dust storms and rainy monsoon season would usher in welcome relief for the whole family. Quite often Amanat would dance in the rain though he would get wet and scolded by his mother. There had been a day when Amanats mother who was a household servant took him along to the posh bungalow where she cleaned the dishes and washed the clothes. Of course, they did not let him inside the house. He was over awed by the beauty of the house and was surprised to find them living in so much luxury. A young boy about his age came out with an older sister. They were attired in beautiful clothes and were eating ice cream. They did not pay any attention to him passing him by as if he did not exist. They soon disappeared and Amanat strolled into the garden and peered into the house through a window. He espied the children he had seen earlier watching television. Amanat had never seen a television before and he had been entranced watching the cartoons when a loud booming voice hailed him from behind. A plump woman stood akimbo and shouted at him calling him nasty things. Amanats aunt rushed to see what the commotion was and bore the brunt of the verbal assault carried out by the lady who owned the house. Amanats aunt in frustration lashed out at him and slapped him in the process. She took a hold of his ear and pulled him to a place under the front porch where she asked him to sit and not to move about the house. Tears had welled up in his eyes at that moment but there was nobody to comfort him.

Amanat had a friend named Ahsan who was also a working hand at the restaurant where he worked. At thirteen he was a year older than Amanat. Unlike Amanat, Ahsan was slightly taller and slimmer. He was a clever boy but one who was into bad things such as smoking cigarettes and chewing betel leaf with tobacco. Unknown to most people, he was also the member of an organized begging gang. Of course Ahsan’s mother knew about it but being extremely poor, she was only too happy that her son would bring home money. During the evenings, the begging mafia for whom Ahsan worked would have him picked up and he was then dropped at one of the many spots where beggars begged for alms. Wearing a cast, he would then limp and hobble about at one of the many traffic lights throughout the town and beg. It was just by chance that Amanats father ran into Ahsan one day doing what he did best which was begging. Amanats father tried to talk sense to Ahsan but Ahsan asked him to mind his own business. However Amanats father disclosed this information to the restaurant owner and to Amanat as well. Both were in shock. However Ahsan did not work at the restaurant from that day. Luckily Amanat had not been a very close friend of Ahsan.

At the small rundown place where Amanat lived, the roads were not metalled and there were frequent power breakdowns which made life miserable for the people during the summers. Without the electricity, the water too would run out. When it rained, steady pools of water would stand as an effective sewerage system was absent. Pools of water would steadily creep into the mud and brick houses in the slum during the summer. Of course there was the nauseating smell of unkempt raw sewerage and the excretions of the donkeys, dogs and buffaloes to contend with. Where there was stagnant water, there were mosquitoes and where mounds of garbage were piled up regularly; there were a lot of flies.

But the mud, the dirty water, the flies and the mosquitoes did not stop young children from wandering outside. It did not stop them from running barefoot in the muddy water. Life continued as if nothing had happened. On weekends, Amanats favorite retreat seemed to be a shop where there were a number of video games to play. When Nadeem was not doing that, he would often frequent a local shop where there were lots of candies, chocolates and beverages. There were some days, when Amanats uncle and aunt would take him out for a picnic or on a visit to the zoo or better yet eating out at a restaurant. But such days were rare.

Amanats uncle had tried placing him in school but found that he was not interested in studying. So he had immediately placed him at work for he did not want him to remain idle. It was much better that he worked and earned a living.

There were blue and gloomy days within Amanats life as well. The memories of his parents and that of his siblings would leave him tear eyed. On such occasions, his uncle and aunt would take him out somewhere and more often than not buy him something so as to take his mind off what bothered and irritated him.

Amanat had been twelve when his uncle sent him to a local religious school for instruction in religious matters. At the religious school, the bearded clergymen taught them how to recite the Quran and how to say their prayers. However some of the instructors were pretty harsh and Amanat realized that when he did not recite the Quran properly. His teacher slapped him hard across the face several times and Amanat knew that he did not want to be there. At home Amanat cried before his uncle and related him about the beatings that he had received. Amanats uncle pulled him out of the religious school and sent him back to work.

In his spare time, in the evenings, Amanat would often wander about the slum. One day he ran into some vagabonds who were just passing through the area. They were boys mostly of his age, who had run off together from their homes in search of a better life and better times. Wandering from place to place, often begging for alms, or working as laborers at workshops, tea stalls and restaurants, they were trying to earn a living and survive. Didn’t they miss home? Amanat had been curious about that and asked them about it. Their stories were about fathers given to drug addiction, to gambling and alcoholism or about mothers abandoning their children and making off with their paramours. In both instances, it was the children who suffered. Amanat looked at them. They wore dirty clothes and it looked as if they had not had bathed for quite some time. Amanat felt sorry for them but there was nothing that he could do for them and neither did they expect anything from him.

It was the wailing of a baby that bought Amanat back to the real world. He looked around him and saw his wife sobbing uncontrollably. Even his children seemed to be shocked and terrified. Amanat walked upto his wife and hugged her asking her for forgiveness. He then hugged his children and promised never to beat them. It was a changed Amanat who left the house looking for work the next morning. Dressed in his best clothes, he wandered out of the house at eight in the morning. When he came home at seven in the evening, he broke the good news to his wife that he had found a job as a helper at a real estate office. He would be paid ten thousand rupees (100 dollars) per month. That was good news for the family.

Amanat then went to his eldest son, Zeeshan and sat by his side. Bringing him close to himself, he said “Oh son! I am ashamed that I cannot support you all for I am not educated and neither do I possess a skill that would pay me well. However I have decided that you shall not work as a laborer. No son, I have arranged one of my acquaintances to take you under his wings and teach you all about being a good electrician. Hopefully someday soon, you too will become a master electrician and do me proud.”

After that he went to his charpoy and called Nazia over to him. He looked at her and felt overwhelmed with grief. At an age when his
daughter should have been at school, she had been pushed into domestic labor. He drew her close to him and looked at her. She looked up at him. Her eyes very moist and she looked quite sad. “Why are you sad?” he asked his daughter Nazia. She complained about her hands hurting and her body aching all the time. Amanat placed her small hands into his and said “You will not work anymore. No !
Young lady you will go to school and learn how to sew clothes.”

Now the person for whom Rakhee worked was the director of a notable Non-Governmental Organization and she had a very fine heart. She had been pleased with Rakhee for she was a diligent worker who was honest and clean. Noting how poor she was, she agreed to finance the education of her daughter and two younger sons. She knew someone else who bought Amanat a Rick-Shaw. So Amanat became self- employed and he drove the rickshaw. Due to hard work, he was able to provide for his family. Luckily for him with the passage of time, his eldest son Zeeshan became an electrician, his daughter became a doctor and the two younger sons became employed in the police.