Chronology of facts, family tree, education, profession.

If you read the About section, then you already have some insight into my life. Born in the mid-early late 80s in Bloomsbury, central London, I am the 7th of 8 siblings. 5 boys and 3 girls growing up in the same one-bedded (literally we shared 1 double bed) flat on Tottenham Court Road. Praised Be God, for that didn’t last long and we moved into a six-room + dining room flat just around the corner! From a humble British-Bengali background, I learned very early on in life to cherish the few material things that one had. We grew up poor, but, not destitute. And growing up in a country thousands of miles away from all cousins, the neighbourhood group of friends all young people make were substituted by siblings. Obviously we had our school friends, the neighbourhood kids who were our own age, and a few distant relatives. However, the point I am making is that for our safety, our parents (may Dad rest in peace) were reluctant to allow us to explore away from home too often, or to spend much time in other peoples houses. By default, we learnt to co-exist with one another instead, and that, I believe, was the key to the deep and close kinship that we share to this very day.

Mum and Dad were breeding children for SEVENTEEN YEARS! And Dad still wanted more!

It was fun growing up. Honestly, I can say Masha-Allah (God willed it) for the upbringing I have had. Imagine; the cold and dark wintry British days of relentless sleet hammering our windows, would be spent with all 8 of us in one room playing deck cards (parents said they were the devil), or listening to our Casio cassette player (music was the devil), or musical chairs (devil). Boy or girl, teen or child, didn’t matter; everyone partook in Blind Man’s Bluff, Mother May I, Hide and Seek and Aliens. Indeed, there was never a time we didn’t pretend we were saving the house from invading aliens whilst scaling the lava that was about to consume us (we had bright red carpet). How about Ludo or marbles? Have the youth of today physically even held a marble let alone play with one? Naturally we all watched the same TV programmes – The X-files, Lois and Clark (the one with Teri Hatcher), Neighbours, Home and Away (who even remembers that!). And naturally we all read the same books. Our eldest brother would borrow (way beyond the return date) from Marylebone Library, all kinds of titles – The Discworld by Terry Pratchett, Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind, and, the David Gemmell titles. Glaringly obvious is the fiction fantasy genre that we all had in common/inherited/had-no-choice-but-to-read.

The neighbourhood families had a breeding problem. They all seemed to have cousins and relatives in abundance. Except us. I can remember only 3 or 4 other families (with kids similar to our age range) that we called kith+/- kin and whom we spent holidays and impromptu weekends with. Oh, and that’s the other thing, our sibling age range spans 17 years. That’s right, 8 children spaced roughly 2-years apart (thanks to natural reproductive biology) meant mum and dad were breeding children for SEVENTEEN YEARS! And Dad still wanted more! Nowadays, that age range could include at least 3 generations in any particular family. Our first cousins were all in Bangladesh, with a few exceptions making livings abroad. Holidays? We didn’t go on any. Sleepovers? Deemed an inconvenience to the host. So how did we develop people skills. Apologies, I realise I may be painting a V.C Andrews’ Flowers in the Attic picture here; far from it. Actually was beneficial being close to ones siblings; we would often mix and socialise with each other’s friends.

Indeed, there was never a time we didn’t pretend we were saving the house from invading aliens whilst scaling the lava that was about to consume us

You have all no doubt seen the memes. The one about how if your sibling was being harangued by a parent, you were also roped into it too? Well, my generation invented it, and we never escaped it. Let me set the scene: I did something terrible awful, like it weas the worst kind of deceptive thing I could think of. And Dad found out about it in the most humiliating way possible, for him. I will detail it all for you in another post about my his-story – sordid detail after sordid detail. But for now I just wish to highlight the pertinent points regarding The Wall of Eight. When doom descended upon me that fateful Sunday evening I was 13, the 7 other siblings of mine rallied to prevent Dad from beating the crap outta me. Let me just say that I was completely and utterly in the wrong, and the sorta beating I got was well-deserved. Because of my indiscretion, Dad turned his fire-breath onto the nearest sibling in my vicinity. “And you, you piece of s***, can’t you even finish Uni and get a job already? And you”, he said, pointing at the eldest sister, “What does he [me] mean when he says he has been doing research for you, on your situation? I swear you kids are all one and the same. I should have kicked the lot of you out years ago!”. But throughout the name-calling and the shaming and then gesticulating and mouth-foaming, they stood firm and took all of it out of solidarity. And by the time Dad was through with sibling no4, he kind of lost his vigour, so that meant when it was time for me to face the music…the orchestra had packed up and left town.

Finish Him! Those die-hard fighter game fans will be well versed in this Mortal Kombat sentiment. Even as I plan the composition of what I am about to divulge to you next, I myself require a breather, a nap, some carbs and a large strong coffee.

Trust me, you do not want to miss my next post.

The Pragaymatic Muslim

• High School Chronicles (8)
• His-story (14)
• Pluralism (1)
• Prelude (2)
• Revelation (2)
• Turning point (1)
• Uncategorized (0)

1. 

   Ahahha. Thank you dear reader. Please do forward this on to those whom you think may benefit. High school is…

2. 

   Oh can’t wait for the next part. Very captivating.

3. 

   Merci beaucoup. If it pleases you then I will strive to compose more. Please spread the word and invite others…

4. 

   I like reading these!

5. 

   […] about how to suppress and repress the dark thoughts and suicidal ideations that plagued me at the turning point…