18— The Principal looked at me with disgust
In 1955 I passed my pre-matric examination in flying colours. I have very fond memories of Government High School Shikarpur. It had three compounds and several grounds for games.
I had some wonderful school teachers. And two headmasters whom I remember with great respect— Moosvi Sahib and Hafiz Sahib.
I hadn’t ever been a studious boy by known standards. Most of my time used to be consumed by Cricket, Badminton and Volleyball—not forgetting the books not related to the syllabus that I used to read. Still I had topped in the province in the two scholarship exams-first in the class IV and then in the class VII.
I was amazingly good at mathematics and physics. On the languages I had virtually mastery. Sindhi was my mother tongue, Urdu my non-mother tongue, English my compulsory language and Persian my optional till class IX. I was to score distinction in all the languages in Matric which I passed in 1956. Matric in Sindh used to be of eleven classes.
1956 was a memorable year for me. That year on the 23rd of March our country left its dominion status behind and became the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. All the provinces of the West Pakistan were merged into one-unit, with Lahore as the capital. The Constitution promulgated that day created parity between the country’s two federating units.
Iskandar Mirza became the first President of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, and Chaudhry Mohammad Ali its Prime Minister.
I remember I was not particularly happy at learning that Dr. Khan, the man whose government in the NWFP had been dismissed by the Father of the Nation as his first act as Governor General had been made Chief Minster of West Pakistan.
Let me admit here that my comprehension of the political intrigues that comprised the political establishment of Pakistan was limited at that time. I understood the International Affairs much better.
On a day in August 1956, I was in a South-bound train—where I was to get admitted in Government College Hyderabad.
I was seventeen at that time. And I was to be on my own the rest of my life.
I had passed my matriculation examination in flying colours. But for want of nine more marks I would have topped in the Board. I had secured 300 out of 300 in Mathematics, 177 out of 200 in English, 164 out of 200 in the languages, 91 out of 100 in Physics but only 36 out of 100 in Physiology and Heigene. That had been my undoing. The other subject in which I was less than good was Chemistry.
I still remember the day when I appeared for interview for admission before the Principal Mr Gillani. He looked at my marks sheet and then at my face before saying with a smile. “This college welcomes you son. I hope you will make it proud.”
“I’ll try my best sir,” I replied shyly.
Little did he know that I was not born for physics and mathematics and that my first year in the college was to prove to be a disaster.
A year later I was to appear before the same principal for admission in the Intermediate, and he was to look at me with disgust—not finding me fit to share a room in the hostel!
