UNCATEGORIES

ዡ Relié An American Family: A Memoir of Hope and Sacrifice free download ጷ Ebook Author Khizr Khan ፤

ዡ Relié An American Family: A Memoir of Hope and Sacrifice free download ጷ Ebook Author Khizr Khan ፤ ዡ Relié An American Family: A Memoir of Hope and Sacrifice free download ጷ Ebook Author Khizr Khan ፤ Chapter 1Shoeless in a Shaft of SunlightI carried a sheaf of papers almost as thick as my hand to the third floor of my dorm on New Campus, just across the canal from the academic buildings My room was small and sparse, just a metal desk with a matching chair and a small electric fan to blow away a little of the Pakistani heat It suited me My clothes were tucked neatly into a closet, and my bed was a cotton mattress on the floor There had been an iron bed frame, but it was too short for me, so out it went Sleeping on the floor was better for my back, anyway.I slipped off my shoes and dropped the pile on the desk It landed with a flat, dull thump There was no textbook for my course in Comparative Constitutions of the World, just this pile of unbound papers, curated by the professor and kept behind the counter at a cramped bookshop in the old Anarkali bazaar It was the oldest marketplace in Lahore, a kaleidoscope of fruit stands and food carts and stalls that sold cloth and spices and produce and a thousand other goods, almost anything anyone might want to buy The air was perfumed with cardamom and the smoky sweet tang of grilled meat that gradually curdled into a stink of horse dung and diesel and human sweat and the alleys were crowded with rickshaws and taxis overflowing with passengers and packages Horses pulled buggies and left droppings on the paths Skinny men hauled large carts with unreasonably heavy loads In the jittering splendor of Anarkali, I always noticed them, saw what poverty could force a meek man to do to earn a few rupees.Itd taken me forty minutes by bus to get to the shop, then another forty back through the unrelenting traffic of Lahore When I got to my room, a shaft of late afternoon sun slanted through the window.Printed across the top page was constitution of the united states Below that, deeper in the stack, were the constitutions of the Soviet Union, a fat ream of interminable articles and clauses, and of West Germany, slimmer, I would discover, but just as dull, as well as the Magna Carta I hadnt bothered skimming any of them as I rode the bus back through the potholed and rutted streets It seemed too much trouble to be juggling pages of legalese while bouncing beside sweaty commuters But now, standing alone at my desk with the kind of half bored curiosity one tends to feel in a burgeoning dusk, I turned the page.The Constitution was not on the next one Instead, the title on the second page was declaration of independence.Those were curious words, the way they were arranged into an aggressive noun I rolled them around in my head To declare your independence I declare my independence.My spine tingled, straightened, a quick, involuntary spasm Id grasped, in that moment, a remarkable insight, a great and improbable truth Id never conceived to be possible.In January 1972, I was a college graduate, fluent in three languages and studying law But I knew almost nothing of America Very few of us at the University of the Punjab did The little I did know Id learned from movies with forgettable titles, and those mostly involved cowboys Id studied none of the history or politics I had no concept of independence as something that could be declared or demanded If you have lived half of your life under martial law and the rest in a swirl of political chaos, Western ideals arent readily in your orbit The idea that people could simply announce they were taking charge of their own affairs was so bold as to be unimaginable It had never occurred to me.Theres a long, elegant sentence at the beginning of the Declaration of Independence about how when people dissolve the political bands which have connected them to another, they owe mankind the courtesy of explaining why Even ignorant of the specifics, I recognized that sentence for what it was a polite introduction to treason, the codification of a rebellion.We hold these truths to be self evident I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, too intrigued to stop reading long enough to find my chair that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness The thing is, those truths were not remotely self evident Not to a young man in Pakistan and not to most people in the whole of human existence It did not matter if men were created equal From my own experiences, I knew that men were sorted into strongmen and dictators rich men who didnt need a ration card to buy a bag of sugar desperate, determined men who were beaten by police in the street and, mostly, masses of the poor and illiterate who struggled to survive from season to season Rights were not unalienable There were only tenuous privileges granted by capricious powers, which meant that they were not rights at all There were no rights.I dont know how long I stood there, shoeless in that shaft of sunlight The Declaration is not a long document, only thirteen hundred words, but I read conscientiously, deliberately, too enthralled to move Id never been so struck by a few sentences, ideas and ideals that, for a moment, removed me from where I was to where it was possible to be Most Americans inherit the principles in those first paragraphs as a birthright To many of them, the words are just dusty history, studied in a civics class, half forgotten But to me, a student in Pakistan, they were radically chargedas revolutionary as theyd been two centuries earlier when they were fixed to paper.I kept reading, through a list of grievances I had no idea whod written the Declaration, nor against whom those grievances had been lodged But thenI realized That didnt matter This wasnt only foreign history This was our story, too The story of Pakistan, the story of the subcontinent, the story, really, of all colonized peoples everywhere and in every era This was my story and my parents story and my grandparents story before them.Except the Americans apparently had figured out a different ending than we had.I shook off a creeping numbness in my legs, pulled the Declaration from its place atop the pile, and sat down on my mattress on the floor, my back against the wall Id read it first with a students curiosity Now I had to read it as a researcher on the cusp of a breakthrough, picking through the details, examining the clauses and phrases, fitting them into a precise and unified theory To know the whole, I needed to understand each piece.I was like a lonesome islander whod found a bottle washed up on the beach, a secret script tucked inside that told of a wonderland, a fantastical place that existed, improbably and perhaps impossibly, far across the ocean I needed to explore it, to set my mind deep into the words, let them absorb me, take me to a place so different from where I was.Okay, we have to go, Muazzam.My father smiled at me Like everyone else, he called me by my middle name He looked at his watch, a Camy on a gold band that wrapped around his wrist, but we all knew it was getting late in the day The sky above my grandparents courtyard blushed with the first pinks of sunset The bus will come soon, he said Time to pack up.In the morning, my grandfather had walked to the butcher to buy meat in his neighborhood in Gujranwala, a small industrial city an hour north of Lahore Sometimes he would get a cut of goat and sometimes beef and sometimes, but not often because it was special and expensive, chicken Sometimes, the butcher would whisper, I wont sell you meat today, which meant the cuts in his shop were fatty or rancid or nearly so, and he would send my grandfather away with nothing Today, my grandfather had bought goat.My mother and my grandmother cooked in the kitchen at the back of my grandparents courtyard There was rice, of course, and also a sweet rice because it was sort of a celebration, all of us together for the first time in a month Vegetables were washed under water drawn from the kitchen pump There was no refrigerator, and no electricity anyway, so what vegetables ended up on the table was a crafty calculus of what was available from the market and what would keep the longest Turnips, potatoes, onions, and garlic could wait in a cool and dark corner until they sprouted eyes and new green shoots Spinach would wilt in the summer heat and so had to be eaten immediately, but lettuce and cucumbers could survive a day or two.I played with my brother and my sister on the packed clay of the courtyard I was six years old, the first of my parents ten children A new sibling came on a regular two year cycle When I turned eight, there were four of us, three brothers and a sister at ten, there was another brother, and so on until there were five brothers and five sisters But then, when I was six, it was just the three of us.We ate in the middle of the afternoon My father waited to sit until his own father sat, and then waited some until his mother told him to sit He always deferred to his parents If my grandmother had announced that the sky had turned green, he would have nodded and said, Yes, Mother That was how a child treated his elders, with respect even if it meant that sort of silly deference.Over dinner, the adults spoke mainly of the extended family, of who was marrying whom, where a cousin had moved and why, about a nephew whod finished university and begun a professional career The afternoon wore on until the bright azure above the courtyard dulled to dusty cobalt edged with pink and orange My father looked at his watch and told us it was time to leave.I had come to hate sunsets Sunsets meant saying goodbye.My mother fussed with my brother and sister, found their shoes, settled them The rest of us sorted the leftover food, then stacked the plates in the center of a small tablecloth that we bound up by the corners and tied into a satchel I always insisted on carrying Then the five of us went through the door from the courtyard to the street.The bus stop was about a quarter of a mile away, and we walked along the side of the brick road Dread settled into my stomach, and with every step it rose, burbling up through my chest, into my throat I hated those walks.The bus came My father got on first, which he usually did, so he could survey the seats, who was sitting where, and, if he had to, ask someone to move so he could keep his family together People were surprisingly accommodating to such a request My brother and sister followed My mother hugged me I love you, Muazzam, she said Well see you soon She kissed me on the top of the head and climbed on the bus.I ran to the other side, into the street I always hoped they would sit on the street side, where passengers werent pressed against the windows to see what the sidewalk vendors were hawking, and I could watch them for a few moments while the bus idled and coughed exhaust into the evening air I waved and smiled an oversized smile.The bus pulled away and I ran to the other side of the street, where there was a small hill I scrambled to the top The road was long and flat, and from up there I could watch the bus shrink into the distance until it was only a tiny blur My eyes teared I started to cry, and then I sobbed, great, hyperventilating heaves, alone at the top of a hill in the dusk.I lived with my grandparents, as Id done for so long that I had no memory of having been sent there There was no particular reason, other than my grandparents were retired and had no children at home and wanted my fathers firstborn to raise I never asked why, never begged my mother to let me get on the bus, never pleaded to come home, because to do so would have been ungrateful and rude Why shouldnt I be content with this blessing My grandparents didnt have to divide their attention among three children I was their only concern Besides, one did not question his elders But that didnt make it hurt any less.They schooled me at home They believed there were many varieties of children in the local schools, and they preferred I not associate with several of themthe disobedient, the slothful, the unserious When I got a little older and learned to play cricket, they would walk with me to the pitch and wait and watch, and when it was over, when the other boys went wherever it was boys went, they walked me home.There were two neighbor boys who came to play, but not often And I had pets for a while, two chickens that hatched from eggs my grandparents hid in the nests pigeons had burrowed into one of the mud walls of the house When they were little and yellow and downy, I chased them around with a handful of feed and a bowl of water When they were grown, with talons and beaks, they chased me around, hungry or maybe playing but scaring me onto my cot until my grandmother shooed them away But other than that, and visits from my parents, it was mostly just my grandparents and me.I did learn, though My grandparents were friends with some local teachers who would give them the textbooks the other children were studying History, civics, Islamic studies, mathematics Books were my constant companions, my reliable friends I read during the day and at night in the courtyard by the glow of the kerosene lamp, and when it was extinguished and I was supposed to be asleep, I would find a volume Id hidden under my pillow and read in the moonlight. An American Family is a small but lovely immigrants journey, full of carefully observed details from theorder in whichGhazala served tea at a university event, to the schedule of the police patrols in the Boston Public Garden where Khan briefly slept while he was in between apartments, to the description of Humayuns headstone as a slab of white marble with soft streaks the color of wood smoke. Most importantly, the book is an effective argument for the depth of Khans love for and knowledge ofthe Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the amendments to it He emerges as such an eloquent advocate for both documents, and for American values, that I finished An American Family with my own sense of patriotism and sense of civic obligation revitalized.Alyssa Rosenberg, The Washington Post A moving memoir a story about family and faith, told with a poets sensibility The book is a wonderful refutation of Trumps nativism and bigotry, but it is no partisan polemic Khizr Khans book can teach all of us what real American patriotism looks like The New York Times Book Review A wide eyed and eloquent memoir A sense of wonder about Americas promise peppers the entire narrative, even as Khan recounts his early struggles in the country while supporting his wife and three boys The account is especially resonant now Booklist Sometimes it takes a newcomer to point out the beauty that old timers take for granted America, than any other country, was founded upon ideals individual freedoms, equal protection and due process of law Khan reminds us that these ideals are worth fightingand even dyingfor The Khans truly are the most American of families BookPage An American Family holds its own alongside other fine memoirs of immigration and would be an inspired addition to any college or high school syllabus The Gold Star father who spoke so movingly at the 2016 Democratic National Convention is just as affecting on the page Shelf Awareness starred review Self effacing, the author writes movingly Khans aspirational memoir reminds us all why Americans should welcome newcomers from all lands Kirkus Reviews An American Family TV Series IMDb The quintessential portrait of an at interesting time in history like this should be well preserved and available for future generations, it s a tragedy people found review helpful A Memoir Hope Sacrifice Khizr Khan An is poignant memoir that reaffirms the potential dream As most Americans first came to know Mr Khan, I saw his memorable speech Democratic National Party convention Anniversary Edition PBS Programs On Thursday evening, January , pm stepped into home Loud family Santa Barbara, California Chronicling lives its by has ratings reviews Nenia Queen Literary Trash, Protector Out Print Gems, Khaleesi Bodice Rippers, Mother o thirteen Episode Excerpt Producer Craig Gilbert introduces spends their New Year Eve apart The Beach Boys Wikipedia miniseries written Kirk Ellis directed Jeff Bleckner It dramatization early years Boys, from formation peak popularity as musical innovators, excerpt MSNBC We were just another middle class small Virginia city, living our anonymous In summer however, we invited speak Convention Bill Loud, Father Family, Is Jul shocked families Aired with imprimatur public broadcasting, was portrayed sociological exploration, not exploitation, although many Sacrifice This inspiring Muslim Gold Star father captivating DNC speaker story one pursuit Patriarch reality show Bill whose life examined millions during documentary series, died patriarch beleaguered turned inside out part considered television Khan William Dies Dad Was Reality pioneer William age peacefully sleep morning, according Facebook post real wife Patricia, five children displayed broadcast children, launching episode series intensely personal about nature true patriotism what risk e everything you promise year old piece parchment produced Alan Raymond Susan Raymond, edited Charlotte Mangin served supervising producer original INTRODUCTION young boy Pakistan, my grandfather used tell me stories moonlight before fell asleep Some nights he would read Iqbal or Rumi Persian poet much universal immigrant experience America particular struggles sacrifice book also faith, told sensibility Their faith imbues every facet but tolerant american family Only left stock order soon stars Trade yours Gift Card up PenguinRandomHouse About created filmmaker Gilbert, chronicled Bill, Pat seven tumultuous months Was Insurance Agents Near Me Insurance Find Insurance agent near are here answer your questions help determine all insurance needs Contact us today Panic Mode Deletes Law Firm Website Democrats allies media wide have been using hammer GOP presidential nominee Donald J Trump, deleted law firm website Internet open letter Fox News Aug know, live violent times, dangerous times Khizr Veteran User Clip C SPAN spoke son, US Army Captain Humayun who while serving country Iraq tricked smearing Trump TheHill fine patriot But now wrong politics entirely fault, though only FACT CHECK Brotherhood Agent Claim fallen Capt operative FULL son YouTube FULL Muslims S M University responds latest Typical soldier after His father, offered strong rebuke Donald Criticizes Slain lashed interview on Saturday, saying had spoken because An American Family: A Memoir of Hope and Sacrifice

 

    • An American Family: A Memoir of Hope and Sacrifice
    • 4.5
    • 872
    • Relié
    • 304 pages
    • 0399592512
    • Khizr Khan
    • Anglais
    • 04 October 2016

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *