A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our
small town. Fom the beginning, dad was fascinated with this enchanting new
comer and soon invited him to live with our family.Though his outside
apperance 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 understand 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 to see the movies 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 Quraan. She would quietly
tell us that the Holy Prophet Muhammed(sallallahu alaiyhi wassallam)
said(something similiar 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 parents'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 T.V.