Stories Articles

A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, dad was fascinated with this enchanting new comer and soon invited him to live with our family. Though his outside appearance was not attractive, the 'stranger' was quickly accepted, and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in the family. In my young mind, each member had a specific niche. My parents were complementary instructors. Mum taught me to love Allah and dad taught me to obey him.

But the 'stranger' was our storyteller. He would weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spell bond for hours each evening and would consume most of our time over the weekend. If I wanted to know about politics, history, science; he knew it all. He knew about the past and understood the present. The pictures he could draw where so life-like that I would often laugh or cry as I watched. He was like a friend to the whole family.

He was always encouraging us and made arrangements to introduce us to several famous people. The 'stranger' was an incessant talker. Dad did not seem to mind but sometimes mum would quietly get up, while the rest of us were engrossed with one of his stories of far away places, she would go to her room and read the Quran. She would quietly tell us that Rasulullah SAW said (something similar to): "THE BEAUTY OF ONE'S FAITH IS SHUNNING ALL NON-PRODUCTIVE ACTIVITIES".

I wonder now if she had ever prayed that the 'stranger' would leave. You see, my dad ruled the household with certain moral convictions, but this 'stranger' never obligated to honour them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in the house, from us, from our friends nor from anybody else.

Our long time visitor however used four letter words that burned my ears and made dad squirm. To my knowledge the 'stranger' was never confronted by anyone. My dad was a teetotaller (a person who advocates total abstinence from intoxicants) who did not even permit alcohol in his home, but the 'stranger' felt that we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often. He made cigarettes look appealing. He encouraged us to flirt with women. I know now that my early concepts of the man and women relationships were influenced by the 'stranger'.

As I look back I believe that it was Allah's mercy that the 'stranger' did not influence us more. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. But if I had to walk in my parent's bedroom, I would still see him sitting in a corner waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures and enchant his audience with his magic.

His name you may ask………, we call him the TV