Description
Naked Woman
Painting type:
Oil painting
Size:
120cm x 190cm
Note:
Unframed painting!
Info:
The story about Naked Woman provide for you here. We hope you will enjoy read about Naked Woman as we did.
Naked Woman – Part 1
I was five years old when India was granted independence and separated. I had three brothers, two sisters and one brother. I was the youngest. We moved to the Pakistani side of the province of Punjab and settled in the small town of Battur, which was about 127 miles [127 km] from the provincial capital. We have been fortunate to have a suitable library house in the city and 31 hectares of land with about four miles of land. This is the highest rate the refugees were entitled to in that region. Another right may be allocated to a different region. However, since my father, a solitary man, who did not like to bribe correctional officials and who did not ask an influential person to help, we should have been satisfied with what we were given. (It took another nine years before we acquired all the arable land about eighty miles from the city).
Before long, I was attending a primary school run by a local authority, located in a building converted from a Sikh shrine called Gurdwara. It was just a few minutes walk from our house.
I still go back to my old days when I was in elementary school. Once, our class was held under the shade of a large dove tree in the east. One could see that a small amount of ripe gold was hanging on the ground or falling on your side. For a seven- or eight-year-old child it was an irresistible temptation to pick or pick it up and put it in its watering mouth. But you will never touch it, let alone eat it. Any attempt to do so may involve immediate punishment, which may include sitting on the floor with bricks, bending the body forward, lifting the floor, placing both your arms under your legs and holding your ears with your hands. It was one of the most severe forms of physical punishment known at the time and probably still is.
When I was a year old, we were given a class. We had three stained-glass windows that could be peered out. Our teacher, 5 ’4’ ’tall with a Balbo beard and wearing a turban, was also a refugee. Her son was in the same class, which was treated unfairly. Instead, he was given an extraordinary assignment.
Our teacher had a goat that he would bring with him or his son but kept it outside on the road and was securely fastened with a window bar. One of the students was always sitting goats in the window.
Naked Woman – Part 2
I vividly remember a bearded man named Ahmadu coming to our home to see my father. He was too old for my father. He was known to my family from India where he used to have a restaurant in a village a few miles from where we were. My father and Ahmadu could have made negative and lasting memories. During the summer my father would ask me or my brother to bring a Ahmadu yogurt drink. In winter he was given tea to drink with stew. On one occasion, my father pressured her to stay for dinner.
At harvest time my father would send my older brother to ask Ahmadu to fetch grain from our house. I was often accompanied by my brother. Sometimes my father would pay the bill for him. Whenever we visited him, he invited us in, but my brother always refused.
During and after the split, Ahmadu was unlucky. There were killings on both sides of the border. His wife was killed on the way to a new world. Most of her relatives and relatives were also killed. She and her 16-year-old daughter miraculously survived by playing the possum. He lost his money and jewelry.
In the new world, Ahmadu could only find a mud house on the outskirts of the city. He owned a donkey and was selling groceries in the valleys near the town. Her daughter’s name was Shanoo, which means glamor. Back in India he had passed his high school exams and had intended to go to a college in a town near their village.Of all the hardships Ahmadu had, his worst nightmare was when his daughter, who during the hardships of emigration, saw the horrific events, including the murder of her mother and many of her relatives, was so traumatic that she lost her temper. He would be close to normal for a few days and then return to a position where he would stand in his room, sit idly by with a cold look and talk a little. If she did talk it would be her mother. In the city or district, there was no professional physician to treat him. The nearest place to take him was the provincial capital, which he could not afford. He had previously compromised with a pay accompli. It was his kismet, he believed.
Things were moving at a fast pace. I was allowed to go alone to Ahmadu’s house to perform certain tasks. On one occasion my mother gave me some clothes to be brought to Shanoo, which were worn only once. I knocked on the loose door. Ahmadu opened it and asked me to enter. I logged in for the first time. Shanan was sitting on the bed. His father introduced me and told him my name. He looked at me and asked:
“Do you mind if I just call you Little?”
“Absolutely not. You can call me by any name you like,” I replied patiently.
Then he saw a packet under my axilla, and asked:
“Have you brought me a little?”
“Yes Shanoo, I have a coat for you,” I replied softly.
I handed him the package. She opened it, saw the garment, and went to the tomb. He threw it into the dust and filled it:
“Little girl, tell your mom I don’t like used clothes. In fact, I don’t like to wear any clothes. ”
After a minute or two his emotions subsided, he went to his room and tied it inside.
My mother bought new clothes, and I took them to Shanoo the next time. After watching it, he was overjoyed. He went into the room and put them on. She had a smile on her face and looked very pretty.
Naked Woman – Part 3
In time, Shanoo became more attractive. The middle parts of his cheeks, which were so thin, looked like blood would enter them at any moment. He had eyes full again. Her long, often unruly hair had turned red from the reaction of certain chemicals and dust. Her upper cup is slightly exposed.
I was in my final year of elementary school. When I visited Shanoo’s house he spoke to me in a friendly manner.
He once asked me:
“Young man, what grade are you studying?”
After telling her to add:
“You know back in India and I am a student. I had just finished my high school studies and was about to go to college “.
Looks like there was nothing wrong with him.
After some good discussion, he stepped back and pulled:
“I’m sorry, I have to go and fix it. My mother may be home soon. ”
He went into his room and just kept quiet.
Ahmadu said:
“Here is what he does. At times, the churches have spoken sensible things. Back in India she was a happy girl. I prayed that she would recover, but to no avail. I’ve given up on you. In fact, I renounce my faith in my prayers. To be honest, I have become an atheist. I do not say it publicly. You know a lot of people here are overzealous. ”
Other years passed. There was no improvement in Shanoo’s condition, rather it deteriorated. There was a couple next door, with three small children. They were poor too. The husband would travel about two miles [2 km] into the forest and collect firewood for sale in the city. His wife, a sympathetic woman, came to the aid of Shanoo, who was often upset.
I moved to high school, which was about 15 minutes away from our house on the other side of town. It was also managed by local authorities. Children from my hometown would avoid passing through a large market. Instead, we briefly crossed sidewalks.
One day on my way home from school, I saw Shanoo, with his hair neatly combed and completely naked, wandering about on the sidewalk. Some packs of noisy kids were happy around him. I pushed them aside. I approached him and shouted:
“Shanoo”.
When he saw me, he stopped and stood in the cell for a few seconds, hung on the wall, pelted me with stones, and left the scene. Frightened, he leaned forward and complained to his face:
“Little one, what should I do?”
A woman from a nearby house gave me a bed sheet. I dressed her and rushed to the pell-mell to her house. She was babbling like a child.
Ahmadu told me that when he started to go back, he would not listen to me or the woman next door. He repeatedly said that he would fetch his mother.
I told my parents about the incident. They were sad and downcast.
As it was a small village, the people sympathized with both Ahmadu and Shanan. But they could not help themselves. Even though they had raised money for the eviction, it was not easy to take him to the provincial capital for treatment.
The children stopped bullying her.
Naked Woman – Part 4
Sometime in the summer, when he was completely naked, instead of going straight to the sidewalks, he would turn left and lie down in a ditch near his house. It flowed south of the city. One time, after a swim, he would go out across the ditch and fall into a ditch. A few meters from the edge of the ditch there was a highway. Although, between the canal and the road there were trees and bushes, but due to some empty spaces motorists could look at him and be surprised.
Ahmadu was rapidly weakening.
I passed my high school exams and was admitted to college, which was twenty-seven miles from our city. I lived in a dormitory and came home almost every weekend.
Because of some tests, I did not return home until the winter holidays. Dad shared two heartwarming stories.
Ahmadu had passed away and from his appearance it looked as if Shanan was pregnant.
In a country created by the name of a religion someone had raped Shanao. No one dared accuse him of having sex with an animal, fearing to be stoned by a mob. News reached the city. The woman next door had taken on the responsibility of caring for Shanan. Apart from my father, there were many people who took part in his look. From then on she was forbidden to go out even if she was well dressed not to mention going naked.
On the other side of town, there was a couple in their sixties who had no children. This man was a respected and influential businessman. They were not refugees but early immigrants. Those people are called places. In addition to the blue, the man offered to get Shanana as his daughter. He had a big house. His wife came and begged Shanoo to take her home. The couple shared with the two maids, who were constantly on the lookout for her. They made sure that she would wear the right clothes and not tear them. He would eat well on time.
She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. He was named Hasan.
Shanoo was taken to the provincial capital for treatment. With regular visits to the consultant, he had stopped his mental illness. She started talking to her baby son and was able to feed him.
Naked Woman – Part 5
Our family was devastated when my mother died of breast cancer in her late 50’s. My father was fifty-five years old. A year or so later, people suggested that she remarry. He flatly refused. He was a very religious man, though he had no beard, but we were legally raised. She had monomania in the matter of helping the education of her children. Unfortunately, my sisters were not able to graduate. The main reason is that they have a lot of distractions due to separation. They were married. My brother did an M.Sc. (Economics) and I got a job as a college lecturer. I was sent to London to further my studies. Under State Bank rules, the limit my father would give me was £ 50 a month, which seemed to meet my needs at the time. My brother joined me later to do a Ph.D.
During break time, I would go home and ask my father about Shanoo and his adoptive parents. I was told that her son was too young to build a new Sunni church in the city. A hateful preacher was hired, who with hot speeches provoked a fierce confrontation between the Sunnis and the Shiites. Since Shanoo’s adoptive parents were Shia, they feared imminent danger. They sold the business and moved to the provincial capital. If they stayed for a while, the whole family would be disfellowshipped. A hateful preacher was also executed. But at that time no known Shia remained in the city. No one knew the new address of Shanoo’s adoptive parents. Some townspeople suspect that the stepfather had hired a murderer to kill the hateful preacher.
After graduating from London, I got married and moved to West Africa. My father visited us a few times. Later, I worked in Pakistan. After the death of my father at the age of 76, I returned to England with my wife and two children.
I lived in Lancashire.
After more than 15 years in the UK, I was diagnosed with kidney failure. I was referred to a nephrologist, with whom I had been receiving treatment for years. During this time I was given antidepressant treatment by the National Health Service.
My visit to the hospital kidney unit was a pleasant one, but since this does not fit the topic, I skipped it. A single visit, which had an event and its omission in the narrative will give the story an incomplete story, is predicted here.
Naked Woman – Part 6
I was waiting for my turn. A consultant came out of the consulting room and announced my name. I had been tested by him once before. He was fifty years old,
about 6 ’long, moderately built and well spoken. With her looks and radiance, I thought she was from the Indian subcontinent.
He had grown a beard with a short box. He shook my hand and we entered a room where there were two girls I thought were medical students. The consultant requested my permission to allow the girls to watch the consultation. Before he started, I told him –
“I’m sorry for struggling to know you.”
Waving his right hand on his beard, he said:
“Yeah, I’ve grown a beard.”
Answer me:
“That’s great. You look smart, thin and most importantly you are small. ”
Before she could answer, talking to the girls, I asked them:
“What do you think?”
They both nodded and smiled happily.
I would add:
“Recently two universities have published a research paper that found that women prefer men with more beards than those without beards.”
He said:
“Thank you.”
Because of my honest and frank comments about his beard, he seemed more friendly than orderly and at the same time asked me:
“What country were you originally from?”
Giving my detailed answer, I said:
“I was born in India, grew up in a small village about 70 miles (127 km) from the provincial capital of Pakistan, and studied in London. My wife was born in Pakistan, my son in West Africa and my daughter in England. ”
He said:
“It’s wonderful. She is an international family. ”
He added:
‘What is the name of the city where you grew up?”
“Batpur”, I replied.
When she heard the name, she looked shocked.
It did not take long to discover that he was Hasan the son of Shanoo, who was alive and well. He lived with her, his wife and three children. His adoptive grandfather’s surname was Shammis, whom I remember well. He told me that they passed away after he trained to become a doctor. They leave their inheritance to her and her mother.
He wrote in my file that from now on he is no longer my lead Link. Instead, we were friends. He gave me his phone number and invited me and my wife to his home for dinner.
I was looking forward to seeing Shanoo after so many years.
Shanan was still alive. He was more than a month old when he saw me and hugged me with both arms. She had lines on her face, but she still looked beautiful and younger than her age. He misses the city and his late father. He could have run away with short memories of me after telling him he would call me Little. That’s how Dr Shamsi knew they were accepted many years ago. I could not hold back the memories of the forgotten and unloved years in town where she had naked hair on the sidewalks. But it seems that both mother and son were informed of their late grandparents’ past.
A few weeks later, Dr. Shamsi and his mother and wife returned to visit. I was taking an old photo of Shanoo’s late father and father. I had made a duplicate copy for him. He was very happy.
Naked Woman – End.
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