Khala Saeedan
I have known Khala Saeedan for about 20 years now. The first time I met her was in 2001 when after my mother’s death, Nusrat Chachi (Khala Saeedan’s daughter) took me and my sister to Gujrat for her brother’s wedding to help take our minds off of ‘things’. It took a lot of contemplation on the side of my maternal family (who we were living with at that time) to decide if it was ‘appropriate’ to attend a wedding so soon after the passing away of my mother. Appropriate or not, I remember those two weeks as one of my fondest childhood memories. I was 11 and was visiting Gujrat for the first time which was strange considering that my paternal family is from Gujrat. Surprisingly, before I permanently settle in Gujrat in 2013, my only other visit to Gujrat would again be to Khala Saeedan’s house at age 16.
Owing to these two very short visits, Khala Saeedan was engraved in my memory as a kind and compassionate person who loved openly and ‘loudly’, if you may. You know those people who grab your face between their thumb and fingers and squeeze it hard while landing big cracked-lipped smooches on your cheeks reciting ‘Maa Sadkey’ like a hymn? Only Khala Saeedan did not have cracked lips. She used to dress well with her hair oiled back neatly and skin, well moisturized. She was very beautiful in fact and I couldnt help notice that her beauty and grace had not faded after all these years when I met her last weekend after 15 years when she came to pay my in-laws a visit. As a matter of fact I was kind of in awe of her elegance with which she carried herself at the age of 85.
I was told that Khala Saeedan has had a good understanding with Baba (my father-in-law), since he was designated as a mediator between the two families when the marriage proposal was being finalized between my aunt and uncle. So, I sat there listening to both of them reminiscing the times they collaborated to keep everything going smoothly between the two families. As I went to make tea and came back to serve it, my father in law excitedly said to me,
‘Maari! If I tell you something that Khala Saeedan just told me, Im sure you will be extremely shocked!’
I looked at him confused wondering what she could possibly tell him that would shock me so much. He sensed my curiosity and blurted out,
‘Khala Saeedan was a superb basketball player back in the day!’
Now, for those of you who know my love for basketball would also know why Baba was excited to share this with me. Shocked is an understatement for what I felt. It took me a moment to process this information and imagine a scenario 70 years ago with a basketball court for girls in Gujrat with Khala Saeedan dribbling away as her thick long braid bobbed up and down on her slender back. Had it been any other game like cricket or badminton, it might have been easier to picturize. But basketball? How was it possible that this game was even known at that time in this small city? Not to mention that girls were trained to play it. So, as any basketball fan would have done, the tea was forgotten, fruits left in the middle of peeling and half-opened biscuit packets, abandoned before serving. I hopped from my seat to the one next to Khala Saeedan as she began telling me about her love for the sport.
‘I was one of their best players. As soon as the basketball was passed to me, my whole team and the spectators held their breath knowing that it would not touch any other hand before going through the ring. I was supposed to stay in the D so that I could take the ball and hoop it.’
I listened to Khala Saeedan, facinated, as she went on with excitement in her tone and sparkle in her eyes.
‘There was this other girl who used to play good too. Her name was also Saeeda. She used to cover the whole court. I admired her for her game.’
She acknowledged generously. And then she said something that made my heart melt. Raising her right palm she said,
‘When the ball came in contact with my palm, it spined.’
I will say that again in her exact words in Urdu as I feel the true essence is lost in translation.
‘Jab geynd meray hath mai ata, tou phir jata tha.’
Even I couldn’t have described my love for basketball better. This is exactly how I feel when I play. I absolutely love that Micheal Jordan feeling when the tiny pebbles on the spinning ball graze the inside of my palm ever so slightly. And I absolutely love it when my hands become rough and dirt-coated after a good practice.
The conversation drifted off to other accomplishments of Khala Saeedan. She proudly told me about the Madarassa that she has built in Gujranwala but I saw a slight sadness creep around the corners of her eyes when she explained how she regrets not getting more educated. When I asked her why she never continued her studies, she did not answer directly. I could see the pain of intellectual and spiritual isolation on her face as she elaborated wisely,
‘Parents should understand the individual needs of each of their children. Girls who are good in studies should be supported to achieve their dreams.’
Having gone through a similar situation, this resonated with me alot. Luckily, due to the massive support of my in-laws, I was able to continue my education and achieve my dreams. So, now I was curious about one thing. Knowing her story, what was now commendable was how she always remained an enthusiast and maintained her positive attitude. I had never seen her not smiling and pouring her love out on others. Very curious, I asked her,
‘Then how did you survive, Khala Saeedan? Not being able to fulfill your dreams? How did you maintain your mental peace?’
‘Tolerance. Sit with me sometime for longer. I may have many life lessons for you. Tolerance and patience is the only weapon that gets you through such situations. I am writing a book on my life and I have named it ‘Tolerance’.’
‘I will always regret not having studied more. I had the qualities of an administrator. I did not need education to stand up on the stage and mesmerize the crowd. But I do wonder sometimes what I could have achieved if all my other qualities were fueled by good education.’
And then she said something that sent chills down my spine.
‘I never found the company that I craved for. At this age, all I want is to be heard...’
As much as I loved hearing her story, the pain in her eyes kept haunting me for the rest of the day. So, that night as I closed my eyes I wondered how many talented Khala Saeedans have we lost to societal norms? How many will we keep losing?
I finally found solace in a silent promise I made to myself that never will I ever let me or our society come in the way of my daughter and her dreams.
