Meeting Fani
By: Fahim Khairy
We (Fani
and I) used to speak a lot on the phone. He used to teach me how to
pronounce some difficult vocabularies used in his poetry work. I miss
hearing his soft and kind voice full of inspiration.
First time meeting him was in the month of Ramdan 2007. I got a call
from him ‘’Fahim Jan, I am in Phoenix’’, he said. He asked me to send
someone to bring him to our home. My brother went and brought him.
It was evening, almost the time of breaking his fast. My mom cooked Bolani. I was very excited to meet a very special person. His soul, manner and personality were not from this earth. He was a special gift to humanity. We served the dinner.
Someone
jumped into politic and wanted to say something about Afghanistan. Mr.
Fani gently interrupted him. ‘‘Let Fahim Jan sing something for us’’, he
said softly. I was sitting in front of him. Laying my back against the
wall. My eyes were getting deep and deep in his face. I hated to lose
the soothing sentiment receiving by looking at him. Jamshed, Mr. Fani’s
son, took the Tabla and my brother grabbed the Harmonium. I sang a poem
of Amir Khosrow,
نمیدانم چه منزل بود,
for him.
He stayed with us for four or three hours, but I felt it was like a few
minutes. We escorted him into the parking lot. I was riding my
wheelchair. He hugged my head. ‘’ I am very proud of you, you are a
lion’’, he said. He went and that was first and last time meeting him.
Mr. Fani was one of the greatest Persian poets. He was born in Afghanistan. Lived in the US for a very long time. He died a few months later after meeting him. Below is a poem written by Mr. Rani and recited by me.
***
About the write:
Seven years ago a young man came to America. Broken in body, mind, spirit but whole in his will to make a new way for himself. Fahim Khairy was born in Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan. After a mysterious illness left him paralyzed from the shoulders down, he was taken to Pakistan where he received some medical help. Fahim lost his physical ability while serving his countrymen in a bloody war time. He was employed by United Nations for many years.
Through the mercy of some people, he was granted to refugee status and arrived in the US on August 2003. Steeped in his native Farsi language and Sufi faith, Fahim already knew how the soul spoke. Now confined to a wheelchair, Fahim begin to think how he might make a new way for himself. With a limited formal education in Afghanistan he knew that the way to the future was through education. He learned English through practice of speech and writing. Fahim has been painstakingly writing his story about his life of poverty, pain, and triumph in Afghanistan.
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ادبی ـ هنری