AFGHAN DILEMMA
Chapter 3
Bilal was sitting in his
kindergarten class and wanted to run away. He was worried that his
teacher was looking at him and that he knew that Bilal had not done his
homework. Yesterday his friends from the neighbourhood had come and
they had played all afternoon, and Bilal had forgotten all about the
homework. He put his head down and would not look up, for he was afraid of
the teacher asking him for his homework. Suddenly he had to look up as
there was a lot of noise of gunshots. He saw a human shape made of fire
coming towards him and yelling at him.
“Homework, where is your
homework?”
The human shape on fire
asked him again and again. Bilal got up and started running. He wanted
to run away from that demon. He was sobbing and running. Whichever way
he turned another demon would come towards him. He ran with his full
strength but the evil sprit got hold of him and shook him.
“Wake up! Wake up Bilal.”
His eyes suddenly opened. His mother Catherine was shaking him.
“Wake up! It’s just a
dream.” Bilal was soaking wet with sweat and tears, his mother wiped his
face and said. “It’s only a dream, love”.
“Yes, thank God, I am sorry
mom! I woke you up in the middle of the night,” he said hoarsely.
“No need to be sorry! Was
it the same dream of fire and destruction?”
“Yes!”
“I will bring a glass of
hot milk for you.” She turned to go.
“No please, please don’t
leave me.”
“Alright.” she sat down on
his bed holding him, and after a few minutes when he was a little better,
said, “It will only take a minute to bring the milk. It will help you to
sleep.”
She smiled and went to the
kitchen to fetch the milk.
“What is the matter?” his
father also came out of the bedroom.
“Nothing is the matter.”
she replied. She was a kind hearted woman of forty five. Her husband
Victor Romanov, on the other hand, was a bad tempered and violent man.
Bilal was afraid of him.
“You are spoiling this boy,
tell him to go to sleep and come back to the bedroom.” he shouted.
“I am coming in a minute.”
She said, but she sat with Bilal for an hour until he went back to sleep.
Bilal was very young then and as he grew older, his nightmares grew less
and less frequent. However, if he had some problem in school or at home
he would have the same terrible childhood nightmares all over again, of
burning men coming towards him, grabbing him and dragging him down in a
bottomless inferno, where there was only smoke and fire.
His father was not very
affectionate towards his only son. He was reserve, uncommunicative and
snobbish.. His work kept him away from home a lot. He was working in the
interior ministry of Kremlin, and never discussed his work at home. He
was said to be a trusted and respected comrade of the Communist party.
Nobody knew what his job was. The rumours were that he was working for
the KGB, the Russian secret police.
Bilal’s mother loved and
pampered him. She doted and indulged him, and tried to give him anything
he wanted. He was very popular at school, as he was a brilliant student
and had many friends. At home he was very lonely.
His mother also worked but
she never neglected him. It was his father who was difficult, and seldom
showed any interest in him. Victor Romanov was fond of his vodka.
. In the severe winter
months of Moscow his intake of alcohol would increase. He would sometimes
come home drunk. Those were bad nights for Catherine. Victor would be
more obnoxious and short tempered. Bilal would hide in his room when ever
Victor became aggressive. He was terrified of his father’s drunken
moods. Victor would sometimes even hit Catherine on a small provocation.
Bilal was very fond of
football. He was a good centre back and was in his school’s team.
He needed football shoes,
which were very expensive but he wanted them desperately.
“Mama I want the shoes for
my foot ball practice.”
“Okay, I will ask Victor to
take you to the sports shop and get you one pair of shoes.”
Unfortunately Victor came
home drunk. It was difficult for him to take the pressure of his work as
he was in charge of Afghan war, and the war was not going according to the
plan.
“Victor honey, please take
Bilal to the sports shop. He needs a pair of shoes?”
Catherine requested.
“What another pair of
shoes? He bought one a few months back.”
“Yes, they are old, he
wants new ones now.”
“Well he can’t have them.”
“Why?”
They started to argue and
the argument changed into ugly words. Suddenly Victor slapped Catherine.
“How dare you?” Catherine
yelled.
“I will dare as much as I
want, you are spoiling him. He should be disciplined if he is to live
here, other wise I will throw him out of my house.” Victor said.
“You leave him alone! I
will get him those shoes with my own money.”
Their argument aggravated
and Bilal could not understand why they were fighting. He was hiding in
his room but he could hear everything. He wanted to come out of hiding
and tell his father that he did not want a new pair of shoes, he would
make do with his old pair, but he was too frightened to speak to his
father.. He hated when ever his parents fought because of him.
The next day Catherine got
him the shoes and Bilal was very happy. When he came home from school he
tried them on and the shoes were of his size, and fit him perfectly.
Catherine came back from work and Bilal hugged her and said,
“Mama thanks you for
convincing daddy to get me the shoes.”
“No need to thank Victor
for it, I got them for you.” Catherine said bitterly.
“Oh!” Bilal could not say
anything but he wondered why his father did not like him.
That night he had his nightmare again. He knew that
whenever he was unhappy about something the nightmare would come back. He
learned to live with them.
Bilal had many friends at
school. One of his classmates was a girl called Natasha. She was his
special friend. They were class fellows since he joined the school. Both
of them were very intelligent, and they had the healthy competition
between them, and both of them would compete for the first position in
class. One day she started teasing him about his inheritance. Laughingly
she asked.
”Why are you called Bilal? I know it’s not a Russian name.”
“I don’t know, my parents
gave me this name and that’s what I am. I am Bilal Romanov and I am a
Russian”.
She smiled and said, “Maybe
you are Bilal, but you are definitely not Russian”.
“What do you mean?” Bilal
asked.
She smiled sweetly, “Maybe
you were adopted!”
“Me adopted? No way. I am
very much a Russian and I am a Romanov, how could you say these things to
me? I am very much a Russian like you, like anybody else.”
“Well you do not look like
your mother or father for that matter. Perhaps you were adopted after
all.” She was enjoying teasing him.
“No! No! I was not adopted
at all.” He was very upset.
Natasha realized that and
said. “Okay! You are a Russian, I was just teasing you,” and Bilal looked
away. He was really very upset by her comments. He had Natasha’s words
engraved on his mind and he could not forget them.
He was so upset that he had
the same troubling dream that night, but he was alone in his room upstairs
and his parent’s bedroom was not next-door, like the old times. He woke
up all soaked in sweat and tears, but he did not get up from the bed,
instead he started analyzing his dream and thinking about it.
‘Was he really adopted? He
thought; does his past has troubled memories in his sub-conscious mind?
Maybe he had a very bad experience in his childhood.’
He was awake for a long
time. By early morning he managed to sleep. It was Sunday and nobody
came to wake him up. He got up at about ten in the morning feeling very
hungry, came down and saw his mother in the kitchen.
“Good morning.” She smiled.
“Good morning, mum. I’m
feeling very hungry.”
“You must have slept late
yesterday so I did not disturb you and your father left in the morning.”
She said..
“Where did he go, Mama?” he
asked.
“To work outside Moscow.”
“Where?” He insisted.
“To Georgia” She said.
“Mama, what is my father’s
job?”
She looked at him.
“Why are you suddenly
interested where your father works, or what he does?”
“All my friends know what
their fathers are and what they do, and they discuss it amongst
themselves. It is only I who has no clue about my own father’s job, or
what his rank is.”
“Well!” She looked worried.
“You know we are all
equal, we are all comrades and we all work for our great country and the
country in return looks after us.”
“Okay Mama, it’s alright, I
do not want to know.” He said and changed the subject of conversation.
“What am I getting for my
breakfast?” He asked.
From that day onwards he
started noticing things, like why his mother did not want to discuss his
father’s job, or why his father never took him anywhere with him. His
class-mates fathers are very proud of their sons and usually took them
everywhere. Bilal never went out with his father, not even once in his
childhood. He was growing up and looked up to his father for love or
some attention but never got any. He also noticed that his eyes and hair
were dark brown, while his parents were very fair. His mother was an ash
blond and his father had a very light brown hair. He knew that there was
something very wrong; but he could not figure it out. Whenever he would
ask Catherine about his father’s attitude towards him, she would have a
ready made excuse for him.
“He is very busy,” or
“His job is very
important,” or
“He is working hard for our
comforts,” She would say.
Bilal stopped asking such
naive questions and started noticing things for himself. He thought maybe
he was born to his mother from her earlier marriage to some one else.
Bilal was on high honour
role in his school. He thought that his father would be really proud of
him. Catherine was full of joy and she praised him on his achievement. “I
am proud of you son. You can take admission in any university you like;
they will open their doors for you.”
“Thank you Mama. I wish Dad
was here and felt as proud of me as you are.” Bilal said wistfully.
“Yes! I know. He will be
coming back after two weeks.” Catherine said.
Bilal showed
his high grades to his father expecting praise and encouragement from him,
but he got a lukewarm response. Bilal was not surprised. He knew in his
heart of hearts that his father had no love for him.
