Strange conclusions are being drawn in the field of science. Few days ago, a news report stated that just like other diseases criminal behaviors can also be inherited. This would mean that if any of your ancestors had some relation to crimes you might inherit this quality too from him. The social, religious and moral structure of the society might receive a severe blow if this research turns out to be a fact. I personally think, that some habits of members belonging to a particular family are somewhat similar and common. This might be due to the gene or it might be because of the same atmosphere they live in. Whatever the reason might be people of the same family do generally behave the same way. My maternal grandfather was a very loving and kind-hearted person. We used to get Eidi from him every year. Whenever he came to Lahore at Eid... we always got new notes from him as Eidi. Never in my life I got Eidi in worn out notes from my grandfather. My mother had the same habit. She used to draw new notes from the bank on Eid. This might be a way to keep her father alive in her memory or she might have inherited this habit from him. Never in the past, I wondered what the reason might be. Else I might have asked her. But now she has gone far away from where no questions can be asked and no answers can be given.

My grandfather had been on high posts in his job as he was well educated and highly qualified. He was a man of principles who lived a simple and honest life. At least I never heard him speak in a loud voice to anyone. He was very generous and upright man. Others' suffering often made him cry. At that time I was too young to understand why these little things made him cry. Whenever I asked my mother about this, the only answer I would get was a scolding. Talking to anyone about his/her parents is indeed a sensitive issue.

My grandfather was from Nishaat Baagh (Srinagar) of Kashmir. His friends and other relatives still live there. Once while watching Nishat Baagh in a film on Kashmir he started crying. When young, it feels strange to see older people crying. Moreover, it seems difficult to understand the reason for the tears. At that age, one neither has a broad perspective of thinking or an understanding of such situations. One can only see things, which are visible to the eyes. Today, I am different. As the life passes by, we go through lots of incidents that are called experiences. These experiences have a color and mood of their own. In our childhood, crying is only for little things like getting scolded, punished or for getting the desires fulfilled. Today, the meaning of crying has changed. I can't remember clearly what I felt when my grandfather died. And anyway he died at Quetta, Pakistan and had instructed to bury him in the same city in which he would die. On hearing the sad news, my mother went to Quetta with my younger sister. People die but they live within us. Their memories keep them alive. Some such memories of my grandfather are with me too. He used to say that we should listen to our little desires, which could be fulfilled no matter how useless they might be. Because there are lots of other hopes and dreams that can only be desired not fulfilled. And if all these longings are buried in heart then a time comes when no desire, no dreams are left. And when this happens the heart becomes numb to the liveliness, which is essential for the survival. With such a lifeless heart one becomes a living dead. The second thing that my grandfather taught me is related to think in a way, which is beneficial for everyone. My grandfather used to always travel in the first class of train. Though he used to take his own food on the train, but always demanded the food that was supplied on the train to later distribute among needy people. He said, to carry his own food along was in the obedience of his mother and to take the food in the train was essential for the permanent earning of staff that worked there. If everyone took their food with them the food providing system would be closed and the employees working there would lose their jobs. Such thinking of my grandfather made him very different and prominent among others.

Very well said by Mirza Ghalib:

"haq maghfirat kuray ajab azaad mard tha" (May God forgive him, he was a man of his own kind)

Now that I am a mature man...I feel that I too have become very sensitive. I too get emotional at others' suffering. The face clearly expresses the signs of pain when I listen to events that are not even directly related to me...to the things, which are not of direct concern to me! My eyes become wet. My mind has still not been able to adapt and understand this change in me. What can this change of feelings be named? What to say about it? Is this something that I have inherited or what? I haven’t been able to find the answer as yet.

In his verses, how beautifully Mirza Ghalib has expressed his views about a vision of his young mind:

"mai nai majnoon per larakpan mai ASAD sung uthaaya tha k sar yaad aaya"

But my mind has not still perceived that much depth in thinking. I had been always a critic of my grandfather's sensitive nature. I sometimes used to laugh at it...due to lack of sensibility. Today, I am no different from him. My feelings, my behavior are bound with emotions. The only thing, which is different, is that no longer can I laugh at these feelings, at this sensitivity, at myself...! Perhaps it is not possible for any sensible man to laugh at himself!

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