Puzzle Project VII: Fast and Furious
December 12
Jibran would always
finish the math assignments really fast, toss it our way and then proceed to
dance around the room, poking and prodding the other children who were still
trying to finish their work. He was five years old when I first started
volunteering at the SOS Village, and over the next couple of years I learned
that he was the sort of little boy I needed to give two math worksheets while
most other kids got one, he was the one I had to get on my side to help hand
out sweets so that he wouldn’t wreak havoc running around, grabbing as much
candy as would fit in his tiny palms.
I started volunteering
at the SOS Village in Lahore in my freshman year, which also happened to be the
year the terrible earthquake struck across Pakistan, devastating individual
lives and entire communities. A few families sought help with the SOS Village –
children who had lost either both or one parent were sent through a series of
SOS locations, till finally they came to rest in Lahore. Not quite the
beautiful mountainous area these kids were used to…
I think of the
literature and research I have been immersed in for the past year, what the
academia knows about children who have been through traumatic events like
natural disasters, losing their loved ones, and then the added trauma of being
removed from everything you know to a foreign environment. I think of the “behavior
problems” that this trauma manifests in and I wonder how those beautiful
children at the orphanage survived. The almost complete lack of mental health
facilities, or even recognition of what they had been through and the long term
impacts of it – and yet. Yet Jibran was the most wiry little resilient creature
ever. He was at the center along with his elder sister and two elder brothers. He
was small but man, he had a big temper.
He would get really
angry and his eyebrows would furrow and he would run away, or mess things up,
or he would shout and say he didn’t want to do anything with us. But he was
also the sweetest little boy who would help out with the activities, and every
now and then, say something that would just melt my heart. And I have to admit,
when the grumpiness was the result of a missed visit, I would always feel a
guilty happiness. “Why didn’t you guys come last Sunday?” and a stalk out or
refusal to partake in that day’s activity would ensue till amends were made.
Jibran loved to run,
and play cricket but you should really let him bat first. Like most of the
kids, he wanted to be the “captain” when we played kho-kho and then choose the first teammate. He would of course choose his
buddies Talal and Ikhlaq first, even though I always wanted to split the three
up because together they were quite the terrible trio. Jibran was the obvious
leader in the group and if I wanted the other two little ones to listen, I really
only had to concentrate on Jibran.
Jibran was really
smart, he loved math and his coloring would always stay in the lines. He did
well in school and he was good with the other kids. And in so many ways, he was
just another adorable kid. He loved paints, he loved it when anyone got a camera
out and there would ensue a battle to be in front of everyone else even if that
meant a face mushed right into the lens, he loved Shahid Afridi, he liked
cartoons and it was not always easy to convince him to play kho-kho. When we brought in hardboiled
eggs to paint over, he was one of the little boys to peel the egg and eat it.
Jibran lost both his
parents in the earthquake and he lived with several of his peers in that center. He
was still young enough to sleep in the rooms with the elder girls, and if he
wanted, he could put up some of the artwork he made on the room walls.
I wonder how the kids
are. It has been a while since I saw them. The last time my
friends and I visited, about a year after graduation, the kids seemed so mature
and mellow, so happy to see us.
I miss them, and especially Jibran, in all his
fast and furious energy. I hope he grows up to be a dynamic young man who
dreams big and makes those dreams come true.
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