Saqlain

The Man and Boy Who Were Both Trash
by Saqlain Ahmed

Note by Calimach
One gets the feeling that the saner a story is, the less there is that can be said
about it. What can one say about the pure simplicity of love? It is like water
from a spring, cool, colorless, without odor and taste, indescribable, as close to
nothing as you can get, and yet it is everything, and self-sufficient, and
priceless. You know it without being told because you feel it when you read it.
Andrew Calimach, Ed.
Bucharest, March 2025

Message from the author
Assalam Alaikum Brother. I have written my story. I must say I am not a good writer but
I am not a bad lover. I have used my university computer and my mobile to write it.
Always hiding it and trying to do it soon I might not have written it well. Please, if you
can check the spelling and grammar for me, it will be a huge help. I will be very thankful
to you. I will also help you if you did not understand anything or if you needed
something to be written again or any addition I will be available. Please publish my
story, it is not for me but for my lover.

The Story
My name is Saqlain Ahmed , I am 23 years old. Living in Punjab Pakistan as a
generational servant. Where I live, in the parking lot there are 5 fancy cars, and there is
a double story house with many bedrooms and imported marbles and doors, but I live in
a two room servant quarter away from the owner house in the corner. My father is a
servant, my mother is a servant and my siblings are servants and I am no king - just like
my family I too am a servant. We serve a wealthy rich man. That is our family job. Our
job is to clean, cook, and to keep everything in order around the property. Truly
speaking, I am ashamed of this life. I don't have a space to breathe, to live and to be free.
At the present time I am studying at a virtual university online so I can free my family
once and for all. To be honest, I hate seeing my family bowed down in front of rich
people.

My job from the start was no more than as a tool to please our master’s children. My job
was to bring the ball when it went far, get beaten, climb trees to pluck fruits, and take
care of their dogs - clean their poo and take them for a walk. Gradually, at the age of 13,
my duties were changed. I was told to help an old man who lived just near us, a
gardener. His name was Touqeer. He was getting older, he was no less than 65 years old,
and I, a 13 year old boy, was told to work with him so I could learn gardening. In short,
they wanted a replacement for him because his hands, his eyes, and his body strength
was no more as it was before. I was a school boy and I liked this job very much because
my filthy rich master’s children did not treat me as a human. Their dog was much more
respected than me.

I always craved attention and love. To be honest, at 14 my life was very limited to school
and then back to my work. I was high on emotions, needs, and desperate for love. It was
on a spring that I started working with Touqeer. After school I went to Touqeer in the
garden and greeted him. Busy at his work, without looking, he said, “Waslam, Saqlain
my dear. Come, come join me. I was told that you would be helping me.” With boredom
I said, “Yes, I was told that too.” He held my hand and asked me to sit with him. “Sit,
my dear, I know you like none of this, but should I tell you that this is a very exciting
job?” I replied uninterested, “Chacha, it is a job at the end of the day. Who loves a job?”
He quickly turned to me and said, “I do, I love my job. This is not just a job, it is making
things beautiful.” I smiled and said, “Chacha, I want to be a doctor, a better job.” He
replied, “May God make your dream come true, but my dear you will replace me soon
till you become a doctor?” I replied, “ No, how can you be replaced? You have been here
even before I was born.” He replied, “Sweet boy, remember, everything in this world is
replaceable, even me and then you.”I was feeling bad because I had never seen him going out of this  place as long as I could remember. I asked, “What will you do then, Chacha?” he replied, “ I don’t know, maybe go to my brother’s place back to my village.” I asked him,”Why not to your family, Chacha?” He replied, “Saqlain not everyone is fortunate like you to have a family. I
would have a son like you if my wife hadn't died.” I asked him, “When did your wife
die?” He replied, “She died exactly one year and five months after we were married.”
I asked him,”So you never remarried with someone else?” With smile he said,
“Everything is better for the first time, than for the next it becomes a formality.”
I felt his pain. I could not say anything but I asked him, “So have you been all alone this
whole time?” He smiled and replied, “No, a lonely man is better in a grave.” I asked
shyly, “Do you have a girlfriend?” and I chuckled. He replied, “No, I don’t have any
females in my life but I am rarely alone.” At that time I could not understand what he
meant with it but clearly it was a hint that he never had girls but he had boys
occasionally. I gave up that day because asking someone too many questions and
annoying them doesn't feel right to me. That day I watched him clearing off plant roots,
digging holes around them, and filling them with fertilizer. Every time I wanted to help
he stopped me saying, “My dear, why would you do that? Why would you make your
hands dirty if I am doing it already?” He did not let me work but he let me watch him
doing that. Humming an old song, he went from plant to plant and I followed him, sat
near him and watched him doing it.

Days passed, our conversation deepened. My job was to not let him get bored. I talked
and told him stories of Chacha Chakan which I read at my school. He loved that
character and he always laughed as I told him the stories. I spent most of the time with
him around the garden and I felt that I was starting to get attracted toward him. With
tales our emotions started and I had no idea that we both would become characters of a
tale I am narrating now. Anyways, life had become better with him. Being very honest, I
enjoyed the company of an old man better than being around younger boys and being
insulted by boys of my age. At that time I felt I was addicted to him, just like my father
was addicted to smoking: as long as he did not have a cigarette in his hand he would not
be at peace. I started feeling differently, I felt that I need to see him, most of the time I
was under influence of what he said and what he did for me regardless of what he was:
he had wrinkles on his face, he was weak and old, and that was opposite of the reality of
idealizing a person but for me his traits were beauty traits. I started feeling he was
perfect. Initially I felt that it was just because I spent time with him.

These feelings were not one sided, somehow he too experienced these feelings too. One
day he called me outside, “Saqlain, my dear, come give me a hand.” My mother said, “He
is eating lunch, he will come after eating.” While my mother was saying that, I had
already left my plate and I was half standing.My mother said, “Sit, finish this and then go, this old man does not even die, he calls you every time you are eating.” I angrily pushed the plate away and said, “Why can’t you be respectful toward an old man?” My mother took the bread roller and hit me once and said, “Sit, eat your lunch. Is this the way you talk to me because of a stranger?” I sat quietly and started eating. I thought that, why was I being angry for this old man with
my mother? Was he not a stranger or is he not anymore? This reflection of mine was not
an immediate realization for me of having feelings for him deep down, but it was a clear
sign that I had something for him.

One day, in the garden surrounded by beautiful flowers and plants, Touqeer and I sat.
Exhausted by all the work he was leaning against a tree. He looked at me and said,
“Study hard, make sure you don’t end up like me.” I said, “I am.” He replied, “No, more
than that, as if your life depends on it. Life is going to be very hard in times to come.
Make sure you escape this,” and he pointed around. “Yes sir, Ok sir.” I replied, “I am
trying, but that is our life I think.” He said, “This is not life, this yard is a joke, this is
slavery in these times. The world is bigger than this yard, there is too much to see and
do. You simply cannot do it sitting here.” His tone was rash and loud. I said, “Why are
you talking angrily to me?” Cleaning the sweat off his forehead he said, “Because I love
you and I want better for you.” He closed his eyes and became quiet, he said something
in the flow which he had been hiding. I too sat quiet, afraid mixed with joy, and I was
not believing what he said. I looked around, no one was there. He said, “I am really sorry
Saqlain, it slipped my tongue, I did not want to say that.” He was looking at my face,
maybe to see my reaction. I sat in front of him shyly. Honestly speaking, I had an
attraction for him. I could not run or scream that would put him in trouble and I could
not say any kind word to him because I was afraid and I was unsure of my response. My
palms were sweaty, my heart was racing. It was unexpected, maybe he dropped clues
along the way but I was not able to follow them. We both did not know what to do or
what to say. I looked at his hands, him rubbing his hands, touching the plant, making it
look like he was examining it, but in the end he looked at me. There was silence between
us, he quietly started working again. I was speechless. I stood near him for a while and
slowly walked toward our quarters. He asked, “Saqlain, are you going?” I replied,”Yes,”
and I went away.

I went back home, I opened my book but I did not study a word at that moment. All I
was doing was looking at the book and I was thinking about what he had said. He clearly
stated that he loved me, there was no confusion. I was thinking what should I do now?
After long thinking one thing was obvious, that I liked him, maybe more than like. I
cannot be away from him after spending many great times with him. I could not make a
final decision and I closed my book and I slept. The next day I went to school, physically
I was at my school and mentally I was in the garden, in the dirt and surrounded by
plants and the most important, I was thinking of Touqeer.I came back home, ate my lunch, changed and went out. Touqeer was having a lunch break, maybe seeing me outside he came limping. “How are you, Saqlain? Don’t you have homework?” I replied, “No, no homework today.” My heart was racing for no reason, my hands were sweaty and I was nervous. He said, “I thought about what I said yesterday, I am feeling very bad and I am really very sorry.” I smiled and hesitatingly said, “It’s ok.” He smiled and said, “I don’t know why it happened but you know a man's heart.” I smiled and he said, “ I am a foolish old man, I think I am going insane. Look at
you, a beautiful young boy and me an old man. We are worlds apart.”

In his words there were hints of inferiority. “It is fine Touqeer. Don’t feel bad, I am fine
with it.” He looked at me and his eyes were like owls. He said, “What are you saying?” I
replied, “Nothing, just I am fine with what you said.” He placed everything aside and
asked, “Do you feel something for me?” I replied with a smile, “I don’t know, maybe.” He
said, “Saqlain, don’t tease me. Please tell me.” I knew that this was the only love I was
getting. These days love is measured in belongings. He insisted again and again that I
answer. I was too shy to say it. I just nodded and that seemed enough because the big
smile on his face suggested he understood. I was in love with a man who worked with
soil and made it a beautiful garden.

Our days became better together. I felt shy with him for some time but how can that last
long when most of my days I spent around him. Everything remained almost the same
as it was before. One day, I was sitting near the gate when our master’s son called me,
“Hey you, Saqlain, come here.” Hearing his order I walked toward him and said, “Yes
bhai, do you need anything?” He replied, “Hmmm, not so much, just pick these kits and
take them to our room.” Those were some packed electronic things. I picked it up and I
thought it was light weight but it was heavy when I picked it up. I got unbalanced a bit
and the package was about to fall. Our master’s son said, “Haven't you eaten? Pick it up
properly, if it touches the ground then you will end up in a bad shape.” I replied, “Sorry
bhai, it is very heavy.” He replied, “Why does your family get paid? To make excuses that
this is heavy and this is dirty?” I said, “Bhai, please don’t blame my family.” He replied,
“Take it and get lost, I don’t want to hear your irritating voice again.”

Hearing this, Touqeer, who was standing nearby came and said, “Sahib, let me do it, the
boy cannot pick it up.” Our master’s boy turned to him and said, “NO, why will you do
it? Look how dirty your hand is, you will ruin the package.” He replied, “Sahib, it is just
the cover, I will wash my hands.” Our master’s boy told him, “Just go and do your job,
Saqlain will do it, and why are you having an issue with this when his father is fine with
all the work he does?” Before he could say anything he pointed away, a gesture to go
away. Touqeer said, “Boy, I am triple your age. Have some respect for the old and some
pity on the young.” The boy chuckled and asked him to leave and asked me to pick up
the package.That day Touqeer seemed very disappointed in himself. He said, “Sorry Saqlain, I would have picked it up but that haramzada did not let me. Was it heavy?” I replied, “It is fine,
Touqeer, do not worry, that is my job.” He said, “No, No, No, that is not your job, I want
your job to be a good one. I want you to be a wealthy man and give me a job at your
house. These people are not good.” I remained quiet because dreams are good but
eventually we wake up and those are just lies. He said, “Do you know I wanted to beat
that Haramkhor’s head against the package. How can he be so disrespectful to us, it is
fine with me, but with you?” I replied, “That is completely fine, Touqeer.” He sat
helpless on the grass. He was very disappointed with the failed battle he fought for me.
One day after work , I and Touqeer collected his tools and went to his room. It was
basically a storage shed with a bed. I placed everything and he made some place for me
on the bed and said, “Sit here, there is not enough space to sit. All these tools surround
me every time.” I replied, “No, it is nice,” looking around and actually feeling bad for
him. He said, “Not as nice as yours.” He poured some water and sat near me. The
environment was getting intense. Maybe in his mind was to leap on top of me and I was
nervous because of the silence. I said, “I should go now.” and I stood up. He held my
hand and pulled me and said, “Where are you going, just a bit longer.” I fell on the bed
and I giggled. He asked, “Are you afraid?” I was having a feeling of what he wanted. I
replied, “No. Should I?” With a smile he held my hand and kissed it and said, “No.” I
pulled back my hand and said, “Touqeer, someone will come.” He replied, “No, I am not
expecting anyone,” and in a poetic way he said, “You have come, is that not enough?”
I smiled and he kissed my hand again. I pulled my hand away and stood up to go again
but he held my arm and pulled me to himself. Without wasting time he locked his lips
on mine. To be honest in the beginning I was pushing him away to break the kiss, but
his strong grip was not able to be broken. I struggled a bit but his tongue on my lips ,
licking it and moving his lips on mine, his soft and smooth movements and his warmth
was bringing me peace. The hand which were on his shoulders to push him away were
now holding tight on his clothes. He was holding my hand and my head so tight to
himself that we had become one. I felt we were inseparable. He was madly kissing me. I
had became completely weak, his old body was making me fly in the skies. I felt that I
was in 7th heaven. Our hearts were beating, our breaths were heavy. His hand freed my
arm and he started discovering my body. From my back he started and ended at my
rear. He was squeezing it and he was so in love that he was squeezing it very hard and
that pressure was making my eyes closed. He kneeled and started kissing my belly and
wet his finger and while his wet tongue was in my navel his wet figure was going inside
me. It was a bit painful but not much. To avoid the pain I was moving toward him and
his face got buried in my belly.I don’t remember how long we made love, rubbing ourselves on one another, touching and kissing but I heard metal clinging outside and I pulled away and quickly fixed my clothes and ran outside. My mother was standing with the metal bucket filled with food scraps. I came out and she looked at me suspiciously and said, “What were you doing in there?” I quickly replied, “Hmmm, I, I, I took the tools in with Touqeer.” My mother
seemed to buy my lie and she said, “Ok ok, now go inside and study, I will get free and
cook a lunch for you.” I completely forgot about my book and went straight to the
washroom and satisfied myself.

Beside being my lover, I adored Touqeer a lot because he was a really good human
being. Even today I am shocked when I remember those days when he was with me and
he gave half of his wage to me, which was not a big sum of money, it was very less. When
he received his monthly wage in the time of togetherness he split it with me. One day we
were working, that day he got his wage and he looked around when no one was around
he took out some cash from his pocket. I asked him, curiously, “What is that, Touqeer?”
He said, “My wage, that haramkhor gave it to me today.” He counted it and kept back
some notes and passed the rest to me. “What is this for?” I asked. He replied, “Nothing,
keep it.” I replied, “But why should I keep your wage?” He replied, “Saqlain, don’t argue,
I will slap you. Quickly take this before someone sees us.” He grabbed my hand and
placed it in my palm and closed my fingers over it. I said, “No, Touqeer what will I do
with it? And you will need it.” He replied, “What does an old man need money for? Keep
it, you will need it for lunch, or save it secretly without your parents knowing about it,
they will spend it.” I said, “But Touqeer, this is your wage.” I gave it back to him and he
placed it in my shirt pocket saying, “I don’t have anyone but you, if I had a son I would
give it to him. All I have got is you so just take it, otherwise you will hurt me.” I sadly
looked at him, “But...” He said, “No but, just keep it please.” I said, “Thank you,
Touqeer.” He replied, “Don’t thank me, you are all I have got and I want your life to be
easy.” I was moved by his kind gesture. Who doesn’t need money in these times, but he
was the one who did not need it. He just needed someone who loved him, nothing more,
and I am very grateful I was the one. Even today I have kept a ten rupees note to
remember him, all these years I have not spent it.Life was good, I followed Touqeer all day around like a baby duck follows his mama duck. I loved Touqeer so much that no matter if we talked or we remained quiet I felt very calm and secure around him. But most of the time, him being him, he sent me away to study because he wanted me to be a successful person. It was a very confined love, what independence could two slaves in love get? But those were the times when I genuinely smiled. I was happy at heart. One day our master decided that Touqeer was
old. No matter how loyal he was, how he served them, but he was old and he was
disposable. I do not know what exactly he was told, but I found him outside his room
crying, surrounded by my family.My father was consoling him, telling him not to cry. He was literally having hiccups. I could barely look at him. I found out that he had been told to leave. He could not talk to me in front of my family. It was getting dark and I was with my family. I wanted to go to his place but I could not, and that was the worst thing, it was that no matter what I felt
for him, I could never express it. My family lost a neighbour who lived in a storage shed,
but I lost a lover who resided in my heart. No matter his trade, age, and money, he was
my lover. The next morning we helped him pack and brought a donkey cart. Everything
was loaded and packed. This was the last time we were going to see each other. He said
goodbye to everyone and hugged me in front of my parents, and he caressed my hair and
said, “Saqlain, work hard and give these two old people a good life.” I was not leaving
him, but that day he pushed me softly away from himself and sat in his ride and within
minutes he disappeared out of the gate. That was the last time I saw him, he never told
us where he was going, we don’t know if he still lives, but I lost him. Maybe he went out
and starved to death, or he freed himself.

Now I am on a scholarship at a university. I am not freed yet, I am still a servant but I
will be free one day. I miss my old man, I have no idea where he is. I am unaware if he is
alive or he is gone. I pray five times a day every day and I usually pray for him even if he
is no more. I want to find him some day when I have money, I want to go to his village
and look for him. If I could ever find him I will kiss his hand and I will thank him. He
showed me dreams and he took care of me when I was at the lowest of my life. He loved
me when I was being mature and I saw myself as a servant. At that time he was the only
one who treated me as a prince, a prince with no territory. When I think of our love all I
think is one man’s trash is another man’s gold. We both were trash for everyone but to
each other we were priceless and irreplaceable.