Finding out who I am - An autobiography

V - Lahore

When I was thirteen years old, Daddy Ji moved to Lahore, Punjab, to continue his ministry. In a house filled with other people, he had always made time to check up on me. He had made sure that I did all my housework and schoolwork. His words of encouragement were enough to drive me further to want to achieve my goals. He encouraged me to become a lawyer even at times when I did not feel like it. When he moved away, the house felt emptier. I was quite an observant child growing up and as I entered my teenage years, I began to reflect more on the observations I made. What was the point of my life? I had no Ma, no Baba. Daddy Ji was far away. What was the point? I was not really allowed to talk during family discussions. My aunts and uncles would tell me to quieten down in the fear that someone would say something hurtful to me. I understood their concern for me. In those moments, I did not feel fully accepted into the family. Being a teenager, it is normal to feel out of place sometimes. Confusion, fear and anger are common emotions to have during adolescence. Yet whenever I felt different or people acted differently towards me, I tended to relate it to my past and how I was not really one of the family.

Just before Daddy Ji went to Lahore, Bhaijan got married to a nurse. She moved in with us and they later had two sons who were three years apart. Our family started to grow and everyone became busier with their own lives. I was still studying in school and enjoyed it. I would finish around one o'clock in the afternoon and would look forward to spending time with my nephews afterwards. I would like to think that I was their favourite phupho (aunt on father's side). We would sing nursery rhymes in English and Urdu. I would cook for them and feed them. We had many children's books, but I liked making up my own stories to tell them. Even now that they have grown up, they enjoy the nostalgia of hearing their childhood stories again. I remember when my eldest nephew was about three years old, he loved the sound of the toilet flushing. Our toilet had a chain to flush that was difficult to pull. So, I would flush the toilet after he had finished. He would get really upset, so I told him that if he wanted to pull the chain, he had to remind me beforehand. One day he needed to go to the toilet and so he began to sing loudly: "I need the toilet; I want to flush it!" This became a song that his brother and cousins also sang too. He was so happy over a little task.

When I was twenty years old, we moved to Lahore to be reunited with Daddy Ji. Baji had got married a few years before and had a son, so she stayed in Karachi. Lahore was known as the "City of Gardens" because of its numerous parks and gardens. Most people there looked like giants to me or perhaps it was because I was only five feet tall. The local dialect is Punjabi. I love the sound of it as it is a lively language. My first job was at a school not too far from our house. I was excited to take on this new responsibility as a teacher. I was quite responsible at home already, but this was going to be different. I was going to have an impact on young children's lives. I would also be able to help my family financially.

Bara Bhai had got married and our family continued to grow. I loved my Bara Bhai. He had such a loving, caring nature. We led Sunday school classes together in Daddy Ji's church. That was when we bonded the most. We loved making jokes and having fun with the children. He was the most approachable of all my siblings. We would always confide in each other first. Perhaps it was because we had similar ways of thinking. We were both quite sociable. He did not care whether someone was rich or poor or what their background was; he liked to talk to everyone. I remember one time when I was about thirteen years old, we were playing in the garden and watering the plants together. Somehow, we got into an argument and started fighting. He hit me a couple of times with the hosepipe and I started to cry. We fought a lot as siblings do, although Bara Bhai never liked to see me cry, so he would always come and make me feel better. That day he came into my room after a few minutes. He sat by my bed and massaged my legs for me. I did not have to say anything to him; he knew me. He cared for me so much.

One February afternoon, Bara Bhai was coming back from the bank and was involved in a motorbike accident. He passed away a week later in hospital. The family was absolutely devastated. When Chota Bhai passed away, I had known that it was going to happen due to his medical condition. That is how I had comforted myself. But Bara Bhai's passing was so sudden. He was healthy, no sickness or condition. He was so young and had just got married. Now two of my brothers were gone. He left behind his wife (Bhabhi) and his one-month-old son who both continued to live with us. On the morning of Bara Bhai's accident, I had asked him to find some information about places that offered BA degrees. After his passing I did not feel like studying for my BA because it kept reminding me of him. There was a teacher's training course in Karachi that was highly recommended for secondary education. So, I went back to Karachi for one year to complete that course.