Once upon a time, Irfan learned how to walk. It was an evening at the 10th floor many centuries ago. He had been trying to stand and walk, I guess, in the interim. Suddenly, he was able to ambulate in what later became his own room, on the brown parquet floor. Some minutes later, he was racing around the round dinner table in the dining area between the hall and the kitchen. Ain was cooking. I was also pacing Irfan though across the table from him. I then stopped at the kitchen threshold and said, “Hi, Ummi!” to Ain, then bolted to continue my orbit. Right on cue Irfan, who was barely able to speak then, also mimicked me. He halted at the kitchen threshold and also called, “Hi, Ummi”. Then we took turns circling the table and calling, “Hi Ummi” to Ain for some time, laughing and giggling.
Here we are many centuries later, hundreds of kilometres away, and our young man Irfan is working as an intern at the University’s training centre. We can not be prouder.
Happy 21st birthday, Irfan. We both love you very much.