From a Takhti to an Ipad

My first words were written on a takhti. This was a wooden board, about A4 size. We used to cover it in local clay. When it dried, it created a light surface for us to write on. We would use a bamboo pen, dipped in ink. Then, when the teacher had seen the work, I would wash the takhti in the dirty water of the pond that was there just in front of the school. I also had a slate, again about A4 size. This was used for working out the sums. For this we used chalk, bought from the village shop.

All this seems a long time ago. So much has happened since. I seem to have travelled a great deal of distance since those days when I sat on the dusty floor of the school. We used to look forward to rain because it would mean ‘no school’; the floor was too muddy to sit on.

The school had just the one teacher for my first three years there. He would start the lesson with each class and then hand it over to the monitor. Although, I did not formally become a teacher until I was twenty five, in reality I began my training almost on the first day of my primary education. I had a reputation for my love of learning and my sense of responsibility. By the time I reached class 4, we had another teacher. This seemed to be his first teaching job.

After five years there, I went to secondary school. This was even further to walk; about an hour each way. Here, we sat on benches and had more teachers and a wider choice of subjects, including English, Arabic, Farsi alongside Urdu and Maths. We now wrote in note books, known as kaapies. I was still recognised as a responsible and hard working student. During my three years there, only once I was caned. This was when a few of us were questioning some of the school rules which was seen as inappropriate behaviour. So, they tried to teach us a lesson.

Then, I came to the UK. During my couple of years of schooling, once I won a prize for writing an essay. Outside of school, I also won an Urdu story writing competition. Before I left school, I had my first article published, in Urdu, in Saltley News. This was a bilingual community newspaper, edited by my mentor, Sultan Mahmood Hashmi. He was famous for starting Urdu journalism in the UK and had established the first weekly newspaper, Mashriq.

My interest in writing was to continue. Soon after leaving school, I had a long short story published, also in Saltley News. I also had a number of my letters published in the national Urdu papers such as the Daily Jang and Akhbar-e-Watan. The subjects ranged from importance of teaching Urdu in Britain, opposing the presence of Pakistani political parties in the UK and supporting the rights of Pakistani women, especially education of girls. A few years later, I began to write in English. This felt such an achievement; to see my English to be good enough for publication.

And now, some quarter of a century later, I have just published my first book, Dear Birmingham.  I write, I tweet, I blog. I don’t any longer write on paper, let alone a takhti. All my writing is on my dear Ipad 3.

 

 

 

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