A DECICATION OF LOVE FOR MY UNCLE - MR SAMSHER ALI
An entire winter. That’s how long it took for to me to repair my computer table. It’s a modern new-fangled one with wheels for legs. After a lot of rough use, one of the wheels had come off. I stuck it with an adhesive. But it couldn’t stand further abuse, the wheel along with its base collapsed.
I waited, tried to work on a wobbly table. Put a wad of rolled-up newspaper under it. It wouldn’t straighten, as if the other three wheels looked down upon their fallen comrade. Try keeping a cup of tea on a wobbly table or a stack of books, gravity will challenge you, tease you and enjoy watching you lose!
Finally, this afternoon, I bought a handful of nails, found my shiny hardly used hammer, turned the table on its head and hammered the wheelbase into place. In all that, I was very lucky not to hammer my nails (the ones on my fingers).
As soon I had done this, I got a call. It was my uncle. Hearing his voice was a joy. I hadn't talked to him for some months now. He stays in Kolkata for his medical treatment. We talked for a long time and shared numerous stories. Being a writer of repute, he had more stories to tell. Among the many was one where we talked about my grandfather (his father) who was a great footballer in his days.
I told him about my younger son’s passion for the game and how he came to know about his great-grandfather, the footballer. As our conversation gathered momentum, he talked about Mendel, the father of genetics. How the genes skip generations and appear later down the family line. Just like Mendel discovered the traits with sweet-pea flowers.
My grandfather was also a wonderful storyteller. I grew up listening to his tales besides the bedside lamp. Then my uncle told me something that just elevated my mood. He told me to keep writing and asked me why I had stopped writing.
I told him I had become complacent and run out of ideas. He turned the table on my head and told me write a story about repairing the computer table!
It’s a habit , a daily habit that has to be honed and perfected, much like the skills of a footballer. Vastly different disciplines but each that requires constant practice.
Now here I am, writing about this evening. The act of buying nails (anyone bought nails recently) - you won’t believe how much you can get for just 10 rupees! So when I needed just four nails, I got a handful. I have kept them safely. The wheels of life are in perpetual use and someday I might need some nails to set things right.
Today, my uncle, fixed some old wheels inside me and encouraged me to keep striving, keep writing.
I bow before my genes, my family and hope that the storytelling genes will pass on forever.
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A short bio-data of my uncle.
Mr Samsher Ali, writer and poet, from Kalimpong. He is a well-known personality. Donning numerous hats from social worker to one of the founding members of the Piranhas Sporting Club in Kalimpong, my Mama has written extensively in Nepali, his mother tongue.
His works include
· Beu Bhaley – collection of short stories
· Soldati Gorkha – stories about WW II from Gorkha soldiers
· Mama- collection of short stories
· Afreen – a love story that spans Kashmir, Kalimpong and Darjeeling
He is also an integral part of the literary event Basibiyalo.
You can watch a short video about him
He has recognised by numerous awards in the literary field. As a budding writer myself, I am immensely proud of him and hope one day that I can become an accomplished writer like him.
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