A little boy of nine, a back bencher in my class of about 40 suddenly came into my attention. It was their Islamiat period and I was standing in front of them and trying to convince these little kids that God wasn't a menacing and ferocious being and didn't want people to die in his name when I suddenly noticed this kid. He was trying to hide his tears which were falling at a greater rate then his wiping ability and his face had crumbled. Since I was probably the only one who had noticed this and wanted to preserve his young pride, I tried to continue with a heavy and wondering heart. When the bell rang, signalling recess, all the kids rushed out of the class. I sneaked a look at this little boy and saw him bent down almost half way into his bag hiding his face from his classmates. When all had left he peered furtively and when he saw me looking at him, ducked promptly. I gently went up to him, pulled a chair beside him and asked him what the matter was. His tears started falling again and he looked defeated: a curious expression on a 9 year old. I put my arm behind his shoulders and held him until he could control his muffled sobs behind his little palms and then he started brokenly...'Miss..s..s I cc..an't gro.o..ow a bbbeardd', I smiled to myself, relieved that it was nothing serious and hugged him and said he was too young and when he was a little older he would be able to grow one. He looked at me with puzzlement and said 'I cannot wait that long, it would be too late'. Curious now, I asked him what the hurry was, still half smiling to myself. He looked at me incredulously as if I should know what he was talking about and said, ' If I don't have a beard no one will listen to me and how will people know that God loves everyone?, they will kill everyone by the time I have a beard.' Saying that his face crumbled again but this time his was not the only face that crumbled!
An eagle is told that it once lived in huge nests on high mountains and tall trees at high altitudes and the big bird scoffs at such a preposterous idea. How can such a big bird living in caves and hunting on rodents soar in the skies over mountain tops and oceans. Not a bad idea but quite unlikely. Seems like these humans are crazy and think of anything about other animals to hide their own embarrassment over their monkey ancestry. Pick up any great novel, Hundred Years of Solitude, Blindness, Beloved, Alchemist or any others that you have read where imagination is stretched but you flow with the narrative. You easily believe what the writer is asking of you. It seems plausible and hence possible and you like a bird open your wings and fly where the winds of possibilities take you. Marquez creates a parallel world of freedom and we camp in this world with him; Morrison brings a spirit from the dead and we unblinkingly accept her character; Saramago presents a sightless world to us ...
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