Watching from the Rooftop
While working on the ground. And other post-war thoughts
When I started writing here, I had hoped to write every week, but then came the war. The war lasted four days, or what felt like much longer, and then it ended. But then came the patriarchy. So I had to deal with that too. And finally, here I am, hoping to keep it light and fun.
The weather is hot, which means my solar energy setup is working well. Baqra Eid is around the corner. New ideas are beckoning me towards them, and it isn’t a question of what but when. The emotions can wait, because problem-solving needs calmer analysis.
When I was a kid, my Abbu ran a cement shop. One time my older sisters and cousins sneaked their way to the shop’s out-of-bounds first floor (or rooftop.)
My sisters didn’t wish to take along a nuisance like me to the top floor, but one of my cousins pulled me up the table and onto the stairs.
After some excitement and exploration of the ‘forbidden rooftop,’ I looked down towards the neighbouring plot on our right. There on the ground, a man was busy gardening. He did not look our way, nor did he notice us. He was completely lost in his work.
From my safe, ‘secret’ viewing point, I observed him tending to the little plants in the soil. Tiny tomatoes were hanging from the plants’ soft stems. We eat tomatoes at home, and somebody was growing them! Wow, that’s unexpected! Something moved in my heart, in a good way. The man worked, and I watched him.
The child hiding on the rooftop sees something of them in the adult working on the ground. Years later, I sat under a bargad tree to educate street kids, and the wilder ones would climb up the tree. They would sit on a branch spread above us and would observe us, lost in working with the kids.
Friends, sometimes we watch others do the work; sometimes we work, and others watch us do it.
***
I drew the drawing above in response to a prompt in a
One of the communities I identify with is the folks who do their work while being completely lost in it. For them, the work is a pleasure in itself. Nothing else is needed.
My Abbu’s shop is the ecstatic architectural space that celebrates my community. I am the child watching from the rooftop, and I am also the adult working on the ground.
Unfortunately, such spaces are under threat in the current environment. And we must continue to build new ones and/or protect the old ones.
The original drawing lesson I followed had ended with a prompt for the reader. So in that spirit, I’ll end this letter with a prompt for you to follow. Here’s your prompt :
Think about this: If you are the adult on the ground, and the child on the rooftop, what work would you want to do on the ground that the child will notice from their rooftop? See what you learn about yourself.
Thanks,
Beenish
Currently, I am watching from the first floor, but soon I have to go back to working in the world out there. I write to gather support and community for when I’ll be back in the trenches. If you saw something of yourself in what you read, then please share or consider subscribing.
