"I have just transferred money to my son," Ahmed sahib said with great satisfaction on his face. He had been the first person to reach the Western Union booth at Daat-El-Emad Five Bottle towers of Tripoli, standing at the counter before it opened at 8 am, and also collecting a spare form for the next transfer. The look of contentment in his eyes gave a glimpse of the depth of his feelings. Can anyone be so satisfied after giving money to someone? The relation of the father to a son, is one such relationship. Otherwise everyone knows of instances where one sees breaking of relations, because of property disputes and money matters. People fight over petty money deals and family ties and relations which go back generations are soured, through the dirty prism of joint-property disputes and skewed interpretations of wills and inheritances.

But here is one relationship, in which he is so happy to send money. His younger son Hasen is studying in Hyderabad, doing first year of engineering while he lives in Tripoli alone. The elder son is doing a job in Lucknow. "Sometimes it becomes very lonely for me" he opened up one day, sipping Arabic "Gahwa"..Coffee..in the clinic. He is a patient of blood pressure, and earns 600 dollars. The day he gets his salary, he transfers 500 dollars immediately to his son. "My son should not have any difficulty or hardship" he says. "I can manage. I have lived my life." The medicine which he takes has two brands, one a local one which is not so effective and the other, a foreign brand, which is more effective but costlier. Through all his troubles and difficulties, this man has maintained his dignity.. His "Tehzeeb"..which reflects in every act of his, his speech, the "Lahza"..manner of his Lakhnavi accent, and the way he never has a harsh word for anyone. "I withdraw and step back when I see that someone is crossing limits. I cannot raise my voice or abuse or fight." No "Badsalooki" (rough-aggressive behavior) for him. He is a person who though living in the present times, is becoming rarer and rarer every day, and reminds us of times gone by, when such conduct was the norm rather than an exception. When you come across such persons, you realize that there is still hope left for humanity.

When I listen to him, I remember what my aunt used to tell me with a sigh in her voice, sitting in the British built government quarters of Lodhi colony, Delhi, over a decade ago. " The times have become very bad, and people are becoming very rough. It was not like this in the first twenty-thirty years after independence, but nowadays, I see how people have forgotten all their morals and if it comes to money matters, they are ready to go to any extreme." She too was from a more peaceful time, remembering how her husband used to ride a cycle to his office in Krishi Bhawan and they would go for walks from Connaught place to Lodhi gardens, rest for a while and then walk on to Humayun tomb. That was before the malls, video games, theme parks came. The beauty of Lodhi gardens is profound but requires no costly gadgets to appreciate.

One Sunday morning, as I was walking alone at Lodhi gardens, a man coming from the opposite side suddenly came and embraced me. It was Guddu bhai. "Where have you been?! No phone, No contact. But I think of you often and knew that we would bump into each other in Lodhi gardens or Connaught Place some day" he said with great affection in his voice. Her eldest son, affectionately known as Guddu Bhai to those close to him, has retained that grace which his mother imbibed in him. He too never has a harsh word for anyone, and when someone wrongs him, he just keeps silent.

We took two more rounds of Lodhi and then sat for a long while in the verandah of he tomb of the Sayyad ruler Mohamed Shah, overlooking the palms. On the southern face of the tombs is the tallest tree of Lodhi gardens. We used to see it together, when I was in the hostel and used to visit them on weekends. Now, having finished my studies and working abroad, such times are rarer, but our love for those palms, mynahs and parrots at Lodhi is still the same. We sat together, talking about lovely times gone by, how some relatives have got married, some passed away, some children gone to hostel and some have lost their dignity.

"I withdraw –Step back" Ahmed sahib says, with grace and dignity. It is difficult for many of us to do that in the face of unfair provocation. It is so much easier to snap back. But he has retained his dignity. Just like Guddu bhai. Both are a few years senior to me, and both have taught me a lot of things, but if there is one thing one can learn from them, it is to retain your grace and dignity in the face of wrong doing and insults. It is becoming a rough world. They say, 'Good guys end up last' in a dog-eat-dog world. Is it true? Or are these persons who are rushing ahead at the expense of their dignity, while gaining a few bucks losing something much more profound. The local Arab managers realize that Ahmed sahib is past his prime, and having stayed in Libya through most of the prime of his youth, he is a bit hesitant to go back to the Indian market and try his luck there. So they pay him less than his fair share for his services, delay his official dues, and know that he will settle for less, even if it is not fair, because he has commitments to fulfill for his son's hostel fees and education. It is a cruel world. And people tend to forget their old relations, what the other person has done for them, when they can cut corners and beat down the person in a deal, they do so.

"Things have changed. When I came here in the eighties it was different" he told me one day. That was the time when the sea used to still reach the edges of the Asai-Al-Hamra the Red castle of Tripoli. He would take his sons to the museum which has one of the best collections of Roman and Greek statues anywhere in the world. Tripoli has been built by people from other lands who have come here,worked and stayed, loved and lived here, since thousands of years. The Polynesians, the Greeks, Romans, Turks, Italians, Maltese all have come and stayed here, and left some of their traces of culture and heritage. In the past forty years, the immigrant workers from the subcontinent have come, and built and worked in the health, oil, carpet, electronics, construction sectors, to name a few. They have not built statues or monuments, grand arches or castles, but their stories leave traces in the culture of this North African city. It is a rich mix of people from different backgrounds, but similar aspirations as working people have from all over the world. In the eighties, when the sea used to extend till the edge of the castle. He likes to sit in front of the artificial lake beside the castle, and take in the fresh sea breeze with a distinct unique scent, which on days when it is not windy, has beautiful reflections of the castle which has seen many intriguing times in the past. After making the transfer, he comes and sits in front of the lake, looking at the castle, the reflections, the whiff of white clouds in the blue skies and thinks of the coming few weeks, and how his son will now be reaching the second year, and how, again, next month, after making the transfer at Daat-El-Emad, he will come and sit here, for a few quiet moments, before the work-a-day life swallows this calm.

"Those were different times," he says. "The dinar to dollar conversion rate was 1 is to 3. There was a greater demand for repair of electronics goods," he said revealing how he is now given more managerial tasks rather than those requiring technical-electronics skills. The love of electronics had brought him to Libya over twenty years ago in the mid eighties.

"Now changing the part is cheaper than repairing" he said "At that time, I was one of the few persons who could install satellite dishes and hence made contacts with many important persons." He talks about happier times, when his family was with him, and the children were young, he had a house with a lawn and his Volvo car was one of the few of it's types in Tripoli, leading to petty jealousies.

"My wife used to tell me to learn some cooking as well, but I did not listen" he tells me with a heavy voice. Now she is no more, and he remembers with great affection the lovely "Daawats" dinners they used to have in their house, and invite people. It all changed when she died in Lucknow a few years back, of complications of diabetes.

Ahmed sahib had once requested me to help his son with some studies. That is how we came to know each other a bit better. He would come in his Volvo to drop his son at the house in Ben-Ashor where we used to stay. My wife would teach him and through this student we came to know many things.

"It is not his fault. He is a brilliant boy but the education system over here is not good" I had told him after a few sessions. I could see the unrealized potential in this young teenager but the community school of Tripoli did not have qualified teachers.

"It was different before the embargo" Ahmed sahib told me. But after 1993, most of the families went back. With the changing of the composition of the community from the subcontinent, the standard of both the Indian and Pakistani schools fell. He told me of the high level in the previous times, students who came in merit and qualified in professional courses in advanced countries, of trained teachers, some gone back, some having found more lucrative jobs in the international "Oil company" schools.

There is a difference in the "official India" and the "working people's" India. The issues which the Pakistanis, Philipino, and East European workers in Tripoli face are similar. In fact, there is a Bulgarian sister who put her grandson in the Pakistani school after having researched several schools as she felt that the standard and culture of this school was better and the value system which it would inculcate in her grandson would be important.

The officers and missions which are supposed to represent their country, have different agenda and priorities. If it comes to bringing trained teachers to upgrade the standard of the school and level of the community, the countries become 'poor' and have no resources. The same resources are not restrained if it comes to renting costly villas for officials. Is it a matter of resources or priorities? A little of both perhaps! Untrained, underpaid, demoralized teachers cannot inspire much confidence.

"How is your school?" When you ask this question, most children just keep silent, some give a sarcastic side-glance and smile. These underlying currents are not seen when dance troupes come with ministers on cultural programs. These do not make good press releases and are not on the official agenda. But these are true. Sometimes tragic, sometimes shameful.

So, after a few years of trying, the persons who have resources, send their children back to get educated in their home countries. Like in the case of Ahmed, he sent his sons and wife back, got them educated there and now the elder is an engineer and the younger one is in first year of engineering college. " If they had stayed here, they would not have got this exposure." He says. "Papa, if you had made this decision a few years earlier, I would have done even better" Hasen, his younger son, tells. The same child who was struggling in an improperly staffed school got over 85% in the board exams back home and secured a seat in an engineering college.

All officials are not apathetic. One young energetic consul has done a lot of research and efforts and even studied the composition of the community and work-related issues and how these reflect on the level of the community schools. He was telling of the changing composition of the working people here, and how things can be improved if one takes interest.

"Some of the local children are very aggressive, and do not heed any disciplinary measures. This is because when the same children go back in their communities, these local children are sons of Managers-"Mudirs" and their fathers from the subcontinent are the subordinates who are working under them. The sons carry the same prejudices in school. Some of them do not listen to teachers, and even beat up their fellow-students." This young consul, has felt some of the pain of his community and is trying to do something through his official position. He has taken some disciplinary measures and has constituted a committee to look into the standards, and is personally going around looking for good teachers. There are some cynical "old-timers' and 'Seniors" who are just waiting to see him get into some difficulty, and then they sit back, and take vicarious pleasure. They themselves do nothing.

He once even came to me, asking me if I knew some educated professionals with spare time, who would come and give their time for the community. He can sit in his office, sip tea, wait for the clock to reach one, and go home, have a nice meal and sleep, then go back to office for an hour or two, move some files, before planning for the evening parties in the official circles and blame everyone else for the state of the community.

But he goes around spending his time and money, seeking to improve the level of teaching staff, getting better infrastructure and trying to meet the board standards. The last I heard was that some senior people were planning to get him transferred out. So much so for his good efforts. Why? "He is a trouble maker and is instilling 'wrong' ideas in the people."

"My sons will surpass me and have better lives" Ahmed sahib says with great contentment. This is the beauty of this relationship between a parent and child. Other relations can be affected by jealousies and rivalries. There are even instances of life-time friendships getting soured when the issue of competitive promotion comes in and only one of the friends makes the selection-grade. Petty jealousies in households are common.

"Is her dinner set or necklace better?" But this is that beautiful relationship where when the other person surpasses oneself, you are the happiest person.

As I listen to Ahmed Sahib, I remember what one friend of mine had told me one evening, many years ago, sitting at Volga restaurant in Connaught place(CP), Delhi.
" A father takes great pride in telling that my son has surpassed me." These words were told to him by his father. And over the years, I have seen many examples like Ahmed sahib who sacrifice a lot but provide an anchor for the future of the next generation.

There are pressures from some persons of the family, to remarry. There is loneliness. There are temptations. There are opportunities. Some well-meaning friends and relatives even searched for potential matches. I once gave him the example of one other person whose wife had died of cancer, who was of the same age group, and had married, and now has a son from his second marriage.

"No! That is not for me. This is the age when I have to think of the marriage and future of my sons, not my second marriage."

One night he came back to my house after a hectic day, having traveled over 100 kilometers for a job had taken him from Tripoli to Sabratha. It had been a hot and dusty day. Here is a ghazal collection of Mehdi Hasen for you, he said.

The first ghazal of the collection was

"Zindagi mein toh sabhi pyaar kiya karte hein..
Mein to mar kar bhi meri jaan tujhe chahoonga"

"Everyone loves in life.
I will love with even after dying"

In Ahmed sahib's case, these words are true in many ways, some tragic and some inspirational. His wife is not alive to see his love for her and their children. But he is alive to all those sentiments and love..he will continue to love her even after he dies, just as he loves her, even after she has died. He is a true romantic.

"No!. I will not be able to get into any other relation of marriage now. Now, the only aim of my life is to realize the dreams and future which my wife had envisioned for her children. If I am able to do that, it is enough." Not for him any frivolous affairs. His romance is much deeper and meaningful.

There is something noble and devotional in his efforts. The lessons which he learnt and imbibed in the peaceful moments, while meditating at the tomb of Mohamed Shah at Lodhi or the Assai-Al-Hamra- (Red Castle) of Tripoli stay with him. He reflects, and is able to say "No" to many temptations and opportunities, because there is a deeper "Yes" burning inside him.

He is the anchor for his children's future. He works through the month, does some other assignments on the side, and waits for the first week of the next month, when he can reach the Western Union office at Daat-El-Emad at 8 am and come back and say, "I have transferred money to my son."