Difficult things first

My father, a retired Indian army officer with the engineering corps, was very fond of automobiles. One truck he was very passionate was the 3.5 tonne carrier- Swaraj Mazda.

He had taken voluntary retirement from the army and set up a transport company at Pune. He had bought 3 Mazda trucks and hired an equal number of drivers to begin the business. He primary objective was to keep himself occupied and hence the venture wasn’t important.

It was precisely the time when I was into my late teens and was eligible to get a car driving licence. I had urged my father to lend me money for joining a car driving school without luck as my father insisted that instead of learning how to drive a car , I should rather learn the truck which we had at our disposal.

He had his way; and assigned a driver who took me every morning took me to the open land adjacent to the University grounds and taught me truck driving. This went on for a week or so and soon I was confidently maneuvering the heavy truck on the ground.

When I went in for my permanent licence for giving a Test at the RTO, the invigilator over there asked me to get along my car to which I said that I had brought our Truck along. Astonished, the RTO Invigilator informed me that I would be only eligible for a Car licence and then asked me to hire a car for the test. I did so by paying a fee at the RTO office where they provided Car's for driver testing. Without doubt, I cleared the exam and got myself a car driving licence. It’s called LMV( light motor vehicle ) licence.

Several years later when I asked my father as to why he had insisted me on learning the Truck and not the Car, he asked instead " Do you think Edmund Hillary and Tensing Norgay would find it difficult to climb the Sinhagad Fort( a hill in Pune city).

I replied, " No".

"Why", he asked me. And before I could answer, he said, "Because they have scaled Mount Everest. My Son, it would be an evening walk for Hillary and Norgay to climb the Sinhagad fort. So, Always Do The Difficult Thing First !!"

Now that's a coach.

Isar Qureshi

The Mice

They met at a party and became friends instantly. The two came from totally different backgrounds and cultures. Afterall-even Mice have their own lifestyles.

This is a short story that my mother told me a few years before she passed away. She was a storyteller and a voracious reader of literature and history. She was also an enthusiast of Islamic scriptures, loved Udru poetry and never credited herself to owning the stories. 

She told this story to me during the days when I was tempted to fly overseas and take up a job that would have fetched more than what I could get staying at my mother land.

So we were with the two Mice that met at the party in the countryside. Pappu was from an Urban upbringing and the Munna came from a village near the venue. They discussed their lifestyles and without doubt the villager was spellbound with the urban fellas narration of his city life. 

It was in the evening when the party got over that Munna offered Pappu to be his guest in the village field, who agreed. They both played and ran around the open field till they were tired. Both relished the crumbs of bread the farmer had left over at lunchtime which tasted quite delicious. After a few burps they felt sleepy and dozed off under the stars. 

Early morning they woke up on the songs of the chirping birds, took a dip in the natural stream nearby and decided to bid goodbyes. 

As they were parting, Pappu offered Munna to join him and see the glitter of his citylife. Munna accepted the invite without any reluctance as he had always heard of the city and fancied it. They both walked away towards the city singing and dancing.

By sunset they had reached the great city which was a dream for many a mice. Munna was starstruck at the first sight of the bunglow in which Pappu dwelled. It was a lavish place surrounded by sedans.

As dinner time neared, they  

could smell the food being cooked. Munna's mouth watered and was already hungry. It seemed that there was going to be a platter full of tasty food awaiting them.

Pappu led Munna to the kitchen area where the cook and his assistances were dressing the dining table. It was going to be lavish supper with sweetmeats. 

Both climbed the cooking table and as they were about to approach the sweet platter, they were attacked by a broom. It missed and they ran back to the safe hole. They made a second attempt and were nearly hit by a missile thrown at them- a shoe. 

Both retreated and waited with deep breath and loud heartbeats. 

As silence came over , Pappu signaled all clear to Munna. They slowly but fearfully approached the platter and picked up the finest leftovers of the tasty sweets covered with dry fruits.

The ordeal ended with burps and they quickly returned to the safe abode. It had been a stressful  evening but perhaps the best food that Munna had eaten in his life. He dozed off fearing another attack but nothing happened and the night passed of peacefully. 

At daylight, it was time to bid goodbyes and both the new found friends hugged each other. At parting , city boy , Pappu asked, " So how was the experience of the city, my friend"

The last para was narrated to me in Urdu by my mother, after which my life changed. 

" Mile Rukhi Sookhi Jo Aazaad Rehkar; Wo Khauf-o- Zillat Ke Halve Se Behtar"

" The stale crumbs eaten fearlessly in the open are much better than the choicest of food in surroundings of fear"

Isar Qureshi