I'll be participating in a MOTH StorySLAM (live, in-person storytelling event) on October 18th in front of an audience of 300+
...the largest for me thus far.
Therefore, the stakes are high... highest ha ha.
But I'm up for it.
Here's the story I'll be telling.
.
.
.
I'm about 8 years old and the year is 1997.
It's summertime!
I'm visiting my grandparents' house in my hometown back in Pakistan after a long while.
It's a big gathering here today.
Well... It has always been a big gathering at my grandparents... Thanks to the joint family system a severe lack of family planning ha ha.
It's past lunchtime but I'm still playing with my cousins—NON-STOP!
It's 1997, there are no smartphones or the internet, so we are playing tag and hide-and-seek like our lives depend on it.
But there is an indoor pet animal that's been roaming around the house, and it doesn't look familiar. It's been disturbing our play and "trespassing" for quite some time now, and we are PISSED.
The indoor pet animal is actually a goat... a mother goat 🐐
My cousin and I are making some mischievous plans for this mother goat: we are gonna milk her and make an ice cream treat later in the afternoon.
Now... I have never milked a goat before but for some strange reasons I'm excited... I'm sooooper excited!
The mere thought of homemade ice cream treats is making my mouth water like Niagra Falls.
I'm absolutely loving my time at my grandparents' and feeling grateful for being blessed with such a caring, loving and adventurous family. It's probably one of the funniest and most adventurous days of my life with my cousins.
But...
All that joy and excitement quickly vanish the moment my second uncle "Uncle G" makes this announcement...
"Everyone... gather around.
Let's find out today... who can speak better in English?"
I immediately stop playing the moment these four words strike my ears:
Speak. Better. In. English.
Because I don't know anything about speaking in English.
Contrary to my cousins, the medium of education at my school is NOT English... It's our national language Urdu and I hardly know how to speak better in Urdu, let alone speak in English.
Taking part in an English-speaking contest is the last thing on my plans today.
But I'm saying this to myself:
I gotta do this... I don't see a way out of it. I can't just magically hide or disappear. Unless I suddenly develop superpowers, which seems unlikely.
But I'm also sure my uncle will cut me some slack after realizing that I go to a different school... He will surely help me out.
I don't have enough courage to speak for myself, so I'm purely relying on his mercy and my luck.
The contest starts... here we go.
"Waqas, your turn... translate this into English: (Uncle G gives me a prompt in Urdu)
All eyes on me 👀
But I'm nervous... My heart is pounding out of my chest like a drum solo at a rock concert. I'm trying to figure out the English translation, but I am lost.
I'm totally clueless.
I'm thinking, and thinking hard, but it appears to be darn too difficult...
I then look around for some help.
I'm looking at my competitor cousins who definitely know the answer, but why would they help me out... Instead, they are savoring the moment to the fullest.
I'm in full panic mode now.
I turn my eyes toward my uncle's face hoping he'll give me a clue... and if he's gonna cut me some slack, this is the time. I'm still hopeful that he'll realize I'm not from an English medium school, so he'll call this entire contest thing off or at least exclude me from it.
I keep staring at his face long and hard, but all my hopes shatter the moment I see a cunning and sinister smile on his face...
The smile I will never be able to forget.
All hopes are gone now.
But wait...
My maternal grandfather is sitting right next to me, and he has started helping me out...
He's trying his absolute best. He is whispering in my ears and giving me clues but... I'm not educated enough to put them together and give a coherent answer in English.
Also, my grandfather is neither an Englishman nor had he gone to an English medium school and he himself is struggling.
After losing all hopes, I lower my gaze and remain silent.
I then get another prompt to translate into English.
But again, I'm silent like a dark night in chilly winter.
My eyes are permanently glued to the floor
...I'm a lost cause now.
But my grandfather is not giving up on me and still trying to help me out but it's of no use to me.
A few minutes into this agony and I can't take it anymore, so I give up. I have lost to my cousins
...not only the competition but also my pride.
Now, I'm feeling broken.
I'm feeling humiliated.
I'm ashamed of my existence.
My self-worth and self-confidence are broken into pieces.
My grandfather, who is still by my side, is trying to protect me with positive affirmations and is trying to make me feel better. He's giving me all the emotional support I need and doing damage control.
That was the day I came to know both the ugly and the good side of my family.
I realized that uncle knew it quite well I was not in English medium school but still orchestrated this entire thing just to make me feel inferior to his favorite nieces and nephews.
That day, I had this strange encounter with the harsh reality that sometimes it's your own family that breaks you down into pieces
...a thousand little pieces and leaves you alone to suffer.
But also, it's your own family, the family that genuinely cares about you and loves you unconditionally, picks up every little piece of you and glues it together to make you whole again.
And the family that did that for me not only on that day, but my entire life was none other than my maternal grandfather... the grandfather whom I love and miss so much but can't tell him that.
But I'm also sure he's proud of me today while watching me from heaven at this very moment.
Best,
Waqas - Head Speaking Anxiety Coach
Website
P.S. If you're in Denver or it's neighboring areas, I'd encourage you to register for the MOTH StoySLAM here.