Thoughts on leaving Cairo- Part Two
A couple of steps from my flat, there sat an old blind man on the road… every evening.
He used to recite the verses of holy Quran… and a few passerbys used to give a 50 piaster or a pound… Just before the sunset, he arrived there all alone and a keeper of a shop adjacent to the place where he sat- used to help him in arranging a mat and then sitting down. And everyday, while on an evening walk with my Son- I used to pass by him.
A few days ago… while returning back from somewhere… when I was paying for the taxi… my son tried to snatch the money from me… I gave him the money to see what he will do with it. He took the money and gave it to the taxi driver… creating a smile on the face of the driver and mine. And thereafter, it became a regular habit.
I happened to pass by this old blind man… and one day, during the holy month of Ramadan- I took out a pound and dropped on his mat… The holy month of Ramadan is magical… more so in Egypt… it brings forth the two extreme emotions within a human being. One that of kindness and piety and other that of impatience and anger.
My son saw me doing this keenly… and then the very next day when I was passing by the same road… and took out a pound from my pocket… he started demanding it. I gave it to him and he walked a couple of tiny steps and stood beside the old man- stretching his arms. He had seen that when he stretched his arms with a currency note in his hands… the hands of the taxi drivers took the note from him. He was expecting the same to happen.
But it didn’t. The man was blind; he could not see my son stretching his hands in front of him.
My son was perplexed; he went further ahead almost shoving his hands in his face… till the old man realized that somebody is trying to give him money… he stretched his hand, felt tiny little hands and then said in a hoarse voice- "Shukran", blessing my son.
And then it became a regular habit… everyday we used to pass by that place and everyday he used to offer a pound to that old man.
One day I did not have a one pound note with me… I tried ignoring the old man and go ahead without giving him any money… but my son stopped and refused to go any further until he had offered money to him. I then had to take out a five pound note and gave it to him… the shopkeeper nearby saw this with amusement and said… "Howa Kareem (He is kind)" and I said "Allahu Akram (Allah is the kindest)".
I am sure that old man must be wondering as to where those tiny little hands have gone…. My son would also be sometimes wondering… where is that old man and why doesn’t he appear when he leaves his home for an evening walk.
He used to recite the verses of holy Quran… and a few passerbys used to give a 50 piaster or a pound… Just before the sunset, he arrived there all alone and a keeper of a shop adjacent to the place where he sat- used to help him in arranging a mat and then sitting down. And everyday, while on an evening walk with my Son- I used to pass by him.
A few days ago… while returning back from somewhere… when I was paying for the taxi… my son tried to snatch the money from me… I gave him the money to see what he will do with it. He took the money and gave it to the taxi driver… creating a smile on the face of the driver and mine. And thereafter, it became a regular habit.
I happened to pass by this old blind man… and one day, during the holy month of Ramadan- I took out a pound and dropped on his mat… The holy month of Ramadan is magical… more so in Egypt… it brings forth the two extreme emotions within a human being. One that of kindness and piety and other that of impatience and anger.
My son saw me doing this keenly… and then the very next day when I was passing by the same road… and took out a pound from my pocket… he started demanding it. I gave it to him and he walked a couple of tiny steps and stood beside the old man- stretching his arms. He had seen that when he stretched his arms with a currency note in his hands… the hands of the taxi drivers took the note from him. He was expecting the same to happen.
But it didn’t. The man was blind; he could not see my son stretching his hands in front of him.
My son was perplexed; he went further ahead almost shoving his hands in his face… till the old man realized that somebody is trying to give him money… he stretched his hand, felt tiny little hands and then said in a hoarse voice- "Shukran", blessing my son.
And then it became a regular habit… everyday we used to pass by that place and everyday he used to offer a pound to that old man.
One day I did not have a one pound note with me… I tried ignoring the old man and go ahead without giving him any money… but my son stopped and refused to go any further until he had offered money to him. I then had to take out a five pound note and gave it to him… the shopkeeper nearby saw this with amusement and said… "Howa Kareem (He is kind)" and I said "Allahu Akram (Allah is the kindest)".
I am sure that old man must be wondering as to where those tiny little hands have gone…. My son would also be sometimes wondering… where is that old man and why doesn’t he appear when he leaves his home for an evening walk.
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