“The Knowledge of She,” by Arva Ismail Piplodwala

The knowledge of SHE

“Let him learn, let me learn,

Let us both together learn.

Let him gain knowledge, let me gain knowledge,

And together we shall gain knowledge.

Together we shall be educated,

Together we shall shape the society.

But you paid only for him,

But you only let him in,

The classrooms were filled only with he,

And so never did she study.”

-The anguish of a she child.

Once upon a time, in a small town of India, there lived a family named Saad. The family constituted of 4 members. The father Mr. Rizwan Saad, the mother Mrs. Reema Saad and their  beautiful twins- son Zayed Saad and daughter Maliya Saad. Mr. Saad was a small businessman who earned his daily income by selling hardware tools and building materials at his shop, whereas Mrs. Saad was a typical Indian housewife who carried out her daily chores and household work effortlessly. Life was normal, but it became more beautiful with the birth of the twins. Both parents nutured and raised their kids with love and care, but in many instances, it was noticed that Mr. Rizwan favoured his son Zayed, over his daughter Maliya, at several occasions. This bothered Mrs. Reema, but she never uttered a word. The family she came from restricted women to raise their voices in front of men. She belonged to a family that very naturally and liberally prioritized men over the women. This scenario was likewise in any other typical narrow minded Indian family. The birth of a boy was considered highly fortunate and superior while on the other hand, the birth of a girl was considered as somewhat less lucky. Consequently , this made the girls of the house, feel belittle and believe in the idea that boys were superior than them.

With this being said and practised in the Saad house and many other houses around, time flew. Days, months and years rolled by. Zayed and Maliya turned 8 years old.

“It feels just like yesterday”, said Mr. Rizwan as he looked at his son with immense pride. Knowing the fact that boys were preferred more over the girls in their family, his daughter, Maliya stood a few steps behind. Gender inequality was a harsh reality that was practised very explicitly in their homes.

“You both turn 8 today”, cried Mrs. Reema, with joy, as she patted both her kids on their backs. Mrs. Reema dint like to discriminate among her children. Of course, why would she! She was a mother. A mother to both her kids. But above all, she too was a girl, a woman. She too had once undergone the harsh cruelties of gender inequality at her parent’s home. How she wished, she would never let that happen to her own daughter but Alas! All her hopes were in vain. Mr. Saad was just another man like any other man who thought less of a woman.

“Have you brought us any presents? ”exclaimed Zayed in excitement.  Maliya’s eyes too lit up with hopes, but, she remained silent.

“Indeed! ”replied their father luring. “Here you go.” As he handed the gifts to both his kids.

Zayed pounced at once and unwrapped his gift. He was overjoyed to receive the latest model of a remote controlled car that was out in the market just a month ago. A little expensive than usual and high in demand. Whereas, on the other hand, Maliya carefully unwrapped her gift and was a little saddened, though not surprised, to find a small doll for herself. She loved it, but yet, when she compared it to her brother’s gift, she knew, she always received something of much lesser value. This made Mrs. Reema upset too. But once again, she remained helpless. She tried to convince her husband several times to treat both of them as equal, to which Mr. Rizwan laughed her face off saying, “Don’t be silly. Men and Women can never be equal.” Mr. Saad’s words  pierced through Mrs. Reema. While, her own words always went unheard. Although Mr. Rizwan always took pride in his son, he seldom appreciated his daughter or even believed in the fact, that she indeed was a very bright and intellectual child. Maliya was smarter than her age and very inclined towards her studies. While, on the other hand, her brother Zayed, was least interested to read or write or study anything at all. He would spend all his time playing his remote control cars. Although Mr. Rizwan overlooked this fact but Mrs. Reema was well aware of the same.

Three years ago, when the twins has turned 5 and it was time for them to begin schooling. Mr. Rizwan had filled the school admission application form only for Zayed but little did he care to enrol his daughter in school. Reason, quite well known. Zayed was clearly his favourite, whereas, Maliya didn’t mean all that much to him.

“We should enrol Maliya too in school. She too must learn to read, write and learn various subjects of the world”, said Mrs. Reema.

“Don’t be foolish”, growled Mr. Rizwan, “What on earth is she going to do by going to school or studying. Don’t you know she is a girl. She needs to learn the household jobs like cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Just like you did. Did you ever go to school? No! Then why do you insist on her going to school when she is not made for it.”

It was much later, after Mrs. Reema’s constant pleading, that Mr. Rizwan enrolled Maliya too in school. And to everyone’s surprise, scattering the glass ceiling, Maliya always scored an A grade in her academics. She performed better in her studies than her brother. Not that she compared but she did prove it, that she too was made for studying and schooling.

She would come running home from school, to show her report card to her father, trying to make him feel proud of her. “Daddy, daddy I scored a perfect A in all my subjects.”

But Mr. Rizwan would barely look at her and say, “You must learn to cook and clean the house just like your mother.”

Although Maliya was well aware, that her father would never take pride in her, she never quit trying to please him.

One day, Maliya and her brother were sitting in the living room. The TV was on. Her brother was watching a car race show, while Maliya was drawing a beautiful picture of a scenery. Mother was preparing dinner in the kitchen as usual. It was almost evening and time for their father to return home from work. The door opened making a cracking sound and Mr. Rizwan walked in. He hung his coat and hat on the hook stand and marched his way towards the arm chair in the living room.

“How was your day,daddy?” asked Maliya.

Mr. Rizwan barely cared to reply. He looked very drained and exhausted. But even if little did he care to reply to his girl or maybe even care to hear what she ever said, he was all ears for his son.

“What is that piece of paper in your hand daddy?” asked Zayed curiously, as he stared towards his father’s right hand wrist.

“It is the receipt of all the sales that I made today”, he replied, still looking weary and tired.

“Dear son, soon now, you shall grow up and take over my shop.” Mr. Rizwan, like his father believed, sons were born to run the family business and continue the family line, whereas, the girls were meant to get married and go away. His shop was handed over to him by his father and now he wished to pass on the same legacy to his son.

“Let us tally the prices and calculate the good profits that I made today. So let’s get started.” Mr. Rizwan was in a mood to get into business discussions with his son.

“Wait daddy, let me first grab a pen and  paper to do the math”, he uttered as he stumbled to fetch them.

“Ready?”

“Yes, ready.”

“Okay. So now add. 650+400+300+250+430+1000+400,570 and finally 2000. Add them all and tell me the good figure of these numbers.

Mr. Rizwan waited patiently, as he started humming a musical tune. Zayed was still struggling to add up the figures.

Hoping and waiting in anticipation for a proud answer from his son, Maliya instantly popped up saying, “Daddy, the total is 5430  . You made a sale of Rs. 5430 today.”

Maliya’s answer shocked all the nerves out in her father. He peeped into the note in his hand. To his astonishment, Maliya’s answer was correct. But things never really worked well in her favour . Instead of being praised, her father grew red with blood and busted with anger, “You cheat! Deceit! You saw the answer on my paper.” He growled.

“No, daddy, I dint.” Maliya defended.

“You must have seen it. Else how on earth could you possibly know the answer.”

Zayed looked once at his father and next at Maliya and still confused. Numbers always confused him. When it came to studies, he wasn’t very clever.

“But daddy how could I have seen what was written on your note. I am sitting in front of you across the hall.”,Maliya continued to defend herself.

“Oh, of course you did. Or how else could you possibly have solved the math so quick, when your brother is still struggling.” He continued to growl.

“I study Mathematics at school. I told you I topped in class. I added up the figures mentally.”

“Oh rubbish. There’s nothing a woman can do better than a man.” Mr. Rizwan growled in anger trying to support the debate with his unfair ,ruthless and baseless statements.

Maliya realised she had infuriated her father, so she kept quite, as her father stood up from his arm chair and stomped out of the living room. Her brother was still clueless of how to solve the numbers. It wasn’t one of the good evenings spent in the Saad house. And many more such evenings were spent, in a similar way in that house. Mr. Rizwan always favouring his son and Maliya always being left out.

Days passed by. But Maliya never got used to her father’s discrimination. She revolted where she could. Something to be awed at for a girl of her age. But her father never let her win the revolution.

Teachers at school always praised Maliya for her outstanding academic performance. She was always at her best behaviour at sports and studies. But the only thing she couldn’t do was impress her own father.

One fine day, the sun was beaming hot. Mrs. Rizwan had gone to the supermarket for grocery shopping. Maliya and Zayed were at home passing their time. Soon Zayed picked up a football and went out to play with his friends. Now Maliya was all alone at home. She was bored and had nothing much to do. So she began reading her favourite story book in the living room. In some time, her father walked in, through the front door of the house. He didn’t look quite well. He was sweating profusely, panting heavily and suffering in pain. He practised his regular routine of hanging his coat and hat and walked up to the living room. But as he progressed, he stumbled on his way and fell on the floor. He raised his head to take one glance at Maliya and with his hand over his chest, he fainted

“Daddy!”,Maliya screamed in fear. She dropped her story book on the floor and ran to her father’s rescue.

“Daddy wake up, wake up. Are you okay?” but her father did not respond.

Maliya instantly realised, that something was terribly wrong with daddy. Being a bright child at school Maliya remembered her lessons. She had recently studied something in her science lectures that immediately struck her. She recalled that in a similar situation of emergency, a person should call the ambulance. Maliya ran towards the telephone and dialled the medical emergency helpline number. Someone picked up at the other end of the call and Maliya explained the entire situation to the person on the phone. After she was done she ran back to her father trying not to panic.

“DO NOT PANIC!” she kept saying to herself trying to hold back tears. Soon the ambulance arrived and took Mr. Rizwan and Maliya in the van to the hospital. The house fell silent at once....

Three hours later.... First ,were a few blinks. Initially, it hurt to open. A little and then finally he opened his eyes wide. The door opened and a tall middle aged man, in white coat with some papers in hand entered the room. He certainly looked like a doctor.

“How are you feeling Mr. Rizwan ?” he asked smilingly.

“I’m not sure.” Mr. Rizwan replied like he was still in pain.

“You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“What happened and how did I land here? ”he questioned inquisitively.

“Heart attack”, replied the doctor “However, you are a lucky man. A minute late and we would have lost you. But thank goodness, you have a smart daughter.”

Mr. Rizwan’s eyes widened further as he rolled them towards the doctor.

“What are you saying?” Mr. Rizwan inquired.

“Your daughter dialled the medical emergency centre and called for help. She has been your night in shining armour and saved your life. If she hadn’t called us we wouldn’t be able to help you. You must be grateful to her.”

Tears rolled down Mr. Rizwan’s eyes. The girl whom he always underestimated had actually saved his life. He called for his daughter and hugged her.

Yet out of curiosity he asked, “ How did you know what to do?”

“I studied it daddy. In my science lectures at school. They taught us how to react and respond  in times of medical emergencies. Luckily, I also remembered the ambulance number. So I dialled it and called for help.”

Mr. Rizwan realised his mistake. The girl whom he always undermined against his son had actually saved his life using her knowledge of education. Mr. Rizwan once again thanked her and apologized for his past behaviours towards her.

“I’m sorry my dear darling for the unequal treatment towards you. I promise, to now treat you equal and better. You may now study as much as you like and I shall always support you for the same.”

Maliya and her father hugged each other. Tears of love rolled down their eyes. Mrs. Reema was watching everything from a safe distance, careful, not to disturb the father daughter duo. She looked at them smiling and her eyes welled up. She knew her patience and faith for a better tomorrow had now triumphed. The dream for equality through education in boys and girls that she always wished for had now come true.

The knowledge of she—You educate  a man you educate an individual. You educate a woman you educate a family.

Human Rights Art Festival

Tom Block is a playwright, author of five books, 20-year visual artist and producer of the International Human Rights Art Festival. His plays have been developed and produced at such venues as the Ensemble Studio Theater, HERE Arts Center, Dixon Place, Theater for the New City, IRT Theater, Theater at the 14th Street Y, Athena Theatre Company, Theater Row, A.R.T.-NY and many others.  He was the founding producer of the International Human Rights Art Festival (Dixon Place, NY, 2017), the Amnesty International Human Rights Art Festival (2010) and a Research Fellow at DePaul University (2010). He has spoken about his ideas throughout the United States, Canada, Europe, Turkey and the Middle East. For more information about his work, visit www.tomblock.com.

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