“ABORTION”
Assalamu alaykum, dear original readers. May I take you on a journey back to childhood today? I’m not a taxi driver, but this happens to be on my way.
To get to the point, I had a phone conversation today with a fellow villager of mine—a young man 13 years younger than me. But what a wise, blessed young man he is. He’s an entrepreneur, deeply faithful, and generous, having become one of the prosperous and charitable individuals in the area. Two years ago, when I visited our village, I was delighted to see his achievements. He hadn’t left anything undone for his parents, even sending them on Hajj and Umrah pilgrimages. He’s also helped his financially struggling elder brothers by employing them in his own business. In short, he lifted his family out of poverty and made them a well-off household. He’s even paid for the tuition contracts of others in need. A truly blessed individual. We had a long chat!
After our conversation ended, I was reminded of my childhood. I must have been in the 5th or 6th grade. I used to graze sheep near the mosque in our neighborhood. The elderly men who came to the mosque were fond of me. They’d say, “Bahodirjon, come and call the Adhan for us; your voice is wonderful!” So I’d call the Adhan for them. I spent a lot of time grazing sheep near the mosque and chatting with the elders. Perhaps that’s why I grew up a bit pensive.
One day, while grazing sheep, I saw my “grandpa buddy,” Mardon Buvva, sitting with his wife on the porch, eating. When he saw me, he called out, “Come here and have some grapes!” Mardon Buvva liked talking to me. As we chatted, his recently married daughter walked in, sat down in a corner of the porch, and started crying softly. Mardon Buvva’s wife looked at him and said, “Old man, your daughter wants to terminate her pregnancy. Her husband says, ‘We already have two children and are barely getting by. We don’t need a third one.’”
Hearing this, Mardon Buvva gave a look that could rival Amrish Puri from those dramatic Indian films. Not only did his wife and daughter fall silent, but even I became scared. He looked at his daughter and asked, “So, your husband said this. But what about you?” Before she could answer, his wife spoke instead, “Your daughter is also struggling to raise two kids. She agrees with him.”
Mardon Buvva’s face turned even sterner upon hearing this, and he said, “How unfortunate, how unfortunate.” His daughter, surprised, asked, “Why do you say unfortunate, Dad?” He replied, “28 years ago, when your mother was pregnant with you, we could have decided to terminate the pregnancy, too. But we didn’t. How unfortunate, indeed.” That was the end of the conversation. Everyone went their separate ways.
Apparently, those words struck both the daughter and her husband deeply because they decided to bring that child in to the world. That child is the very man I spoke with on the phone today—the generous and prosperous young entrepreneur.