knicq posted in Knicqisms on March 26th, 2006
One of my all time favorite albums is Amir Zaki’s Signature. It was almost eleven years ago, when I had first got my hands on this album, and I have since been addicted to it. It is more than an album to me, it is a part of my life. It brings back memories of days that were so long ago, and were perhaps some of the best days in my life. Frankly speaking, I have been blessed with a wonderful, wonderful life, and it seems unfair to label any part as better than others, thereby implying any part of my life was less than another. Perhaps, what I wanted to say is that those were the days when I was at my best behavior. Unfortunately, I lost my way too soon, and have since never been able to get it right.
I remember little of consequence from my childhood. Like all children in an average middle-class Pakistani family, education took up all my time. My parents are hard-working, honest and simple people. My father is a simple man, often accused of being too blunt and tactless. He is also the wisest person I know. For as far back as I can remember, I do not recall having seen him discussing politics, sports, or anything that did not directly concern him. Blabberers like yours truly, and passionate opiners like yours truly’s spiritual ‘misguide’ Jalali Baba know only too well the futility of those discussions. Yours truly probably knows the futility better than Jalali Baba, since yours truly is often subjected to those futile rantings by Jalali Baba, and through him and his rantings yours truly has been able to see just how futile and feeble yours truly must seem expressing those opinions, since unlike Jalali Baba, yours truly is not blessed with even the half baked theories that Jalali Baba passionately advocates … theories, which can only result from an indepth knowledge of superficial matters.
My father had come into the UAE soon after he had graduated with his Bachelors, and had started working with the UAE armed forces. For almost three decades, he worked with the same employer. I am still not very sure what his job responsibilities were, but he was the only one in that office who spoke, read and wrote Arabic as well as English with about the same level of ease/difficulty. He had learnt the local dialect early on, and set about practicing whatever others he could. He even had a signature in Arabic, complete with the trademark calligraphic appearance of an arabic signature. Come to think of it, his signature looked better than those of our Arabic teachers at school. We used to show off his arabic signatures to our friends whenever we were required to get our poor scores in arabic tests signed by parents; those signatures came after much soul searching, the search part being undertaken in our souls by parents; a small price to pay for the moments of glory during recess.
It seems like it was in another lifetime…the listening to Aamir Zaki’s Signature, as well as the showing off of Walid Sahab’s signature.
I am old.