Having eaten to my hearts content. I hand the packet back to Yusuf and just then Husseins eyes fall on it…
Let me tell you abit about Hussein,
Hussein was a 43 year old gentleman from Zak Park but with roots sunken deep into KZN.
Was a ring leader of a famous gangster group down there, and Allah granted him hidaayat alhamdulillah, he was a happy go lucky type of guy with lots of wisdom and deep insight and utterly proud of his Durban accent.
” what u fellas are eating and not sharing what kind man”
” that’s not ikraam ekse”
“my annah used to always tune us, you don’t eat infront of other fellas without sharing”
” you fellas just smashing one way and ere my tummy getting all hupset(upset)”
We apologize and hand him the packets, after sometime he hands the packet back empty and says,
” this not Chevro, what my ma used to make was pakka Chevro, youll joburg fellas Ma’s don’t know aw( how) to make ekse”
So typical Hussien Bhai, but the most loved personality in our group, prior to this trip we were for a few days with some South American brothers from Guyana, there was a brother who was blind and suffered heavy diarrhea and due to his special condition he was at time unable to make to to the loo, Hussien Bhai took it on himself to take the brother to and from the loo, and in two occasions the brother didn’t make it in time, Hussein bathed the brother and washed his soiled clothes, amazing amazing qualities.
Nevertheless, time for asr sets in and Anwar says
” bara station ane walehe ‘Gujrat’ train 10 minutes se rukhe gi hum namaaz par lenge”
” big station is ahead the train will stop for 10 minutes well read our salaah there”
“did he say ‘Gujrat’ station?” Ay thats our turf!!!!!
I anxiously await the arrival of our roots. I go back to the door and as the train stops I get off and look around, it’s an extremely busy station but clean, Gujrat is known and the green state due to its cleanliness,
” bai Kati aowo, kono chokro Che?”
Two elderly women sitting on a bench ask me, for a moment I thought it was my grand mom, as they wore the same orni as her,
baroda station Gujrat
After speaking mostly Urdu/Hindi throughout our trip I couldnt get a single word of gujarati out, I just ignored them but felt this deep feeling within me that I’m home this is our place, my Gham isn’t far from here.
Hussien walks out of the train and I ask him ” Oom doesn’t this feel like home?”
” Ay laaiti listen ere Chatsworth was my posie I don’t know what you vyn on about!!! You take everything to heart, gham this and gham that come lets read namaaz and vy, there your bra is going away hysterical!!!! ( referring to Anwar) ”
” yah chill we coming now now !! Al man”
Hussein probably doesn’t know his gham that’s why he’s acting out.
We rush off for salaah and back in the train, I’m some what getting into the feel of it and adapting to the on going surprises.
this is our gham mosque in Chasa
To be continued….