Cherished values have undergone a drastic fall in modern times, and not all that is taught in theory is as simple in real life any more
“THERE is nothing so bitter that a patient mind cannot find some solace for it.” — Marcus Annaeus Seneca
The old boys of a prominent public school were having their annual reunion dinner at the house of one of the alumnus of the school. While there was a bunter of noisy conversation outside on the well-manicured lawn among the old boys, mingled with the tinkling of glasses, the wives were huddled in the large and well-appointed sitting room having their own tete-tete. It was like any other year, but for one difference.
The 80-year-old former principal, still physically erect and mentally agile and who had retired about a decade ago after serving the school in different capacities for over 45 years, had also come to the party. A graduate of Government College, Lahore, with a Teacher’s Diploma (TD) from London, the former principal never tired of saying proudly that he loved boxing and played hockey with the great Colonel Dara.
The friendly and cheerful atmosphere was broken by a loud and aggressive remark by Azmat Qureshi, “Mr Khan, you have given us the wrong kind of education!” Everyone looked in the direction with a start, but the cool and composed Principal Khan only raised his bushy eyebrows to say, “Why do you say that, Azmat?”
“You told us to be honest in all our dealings, big or small.”
“Indeed I did,” replied Mr Khan.
“I followed your advice. Did not take any bribe, nor allowed anyone to do so in my department, including my superiors.”
“That is very creditable, Qureshi.”
“But do you know the price I had to pay for this?” said Qureshi. “I have had fourteen transfers in as many years which has made a mess of my children’s education and my household, as these are carted carelessly from one town to another.”
“Qureshi is right,” interposed Irfan Malik, “Your education has been ill-suited to our present-day society. Did you not tell us repeatedly not to bow our head before any man, and that we should submit ourselves completely before Almighty Allah alone? That all the postures of namaz practised by kafirs before the arrival of the Holy Prophet (Peace be upon him) are for Allah alone?”
“Of course I did. Anything wrong with that?” asked Mr Khan in his usual soft tone.
“Yes, plenty. Because these norms are no long applicable in the world of corporate business,” insisted Irfan. “We must stand bolt upright as soon as the boss enters our office, bow to open his car door, bending like in a ruku and even perform the sijda when he feigns difficulty in tying his shoelaces, on account of the expanding girth,” added Irfan with a smile.
“And,” added Kumail, a junior executive in a private firm for over 15 years, “if you do not perform these acts of obeisance every day, you are going to be overlooked for promotion or any kind of career progression in the organization, like I have been, in following your advice, Mr Khan.”
“That is sad,” said Khan remorsefully.
“But sir,” started Mohammad Jaffer.
“Now, now, Jaffer. Don’t you remember my telling you not to call me sir. Just Mr Khan will do. In fact, now as a grown up, you can even be more informal and just call me Rashid. My age will weigh less heavily on my shoulders,” said Mr Khan good-naturedly.
“Really, Mr Khan?” said Jaffer. “In my office, I must address all my seniors as sir, seth or sahib. In fact, I do not know the first name of many of them because they even call one another seth!” There was a loud guffaw all around on hearing this.
“How is your tennis getting along?” principal Khan asked Ashraf, the former school champion and tennis captain. “Does your elbow still hurt when you are stretched to the fifth set by an opponent?”
“It’s incredible, Mr Khan. How do you remember all this? I left school over 20 years ago?” exclaimed Ashraf. “In any case, I now hardly get the time to play any games in my present job at the bank.”
“Have you forgotten my emphasis on sports and hobbies as part of all-round character development?”
“Like at Eaton and Harrow,” echoed Roman, Shahid and Pervaiz in unison, remembering the old principal’s daily advice to the pupils in the morning assembly.
“Yes, yes, that’s what I mean. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” advised Mr Khan, not for a moment forgetting his role as a teacher for many years.
“You must be joking, Khan sahib,” said the former tennis champion. “I work from 8am till 11pm and enter my house stealthily every night after everyone else in the house has gone to bed; have a cold dinner and retire to an uneasy sleep,” said Ashraf sadly.
“Khan sahib,” interjected Saifullah, wanting to take full advantage of the presence of their popular and knowledgeable teacher that evening, “Did you not tell us at the Islamiat class that a true Muslim is one who treats the poor and the weak with compassion and does not fail to speak the truth, whatever the odds?”
“That is the spirit of Islam,” said the aging principal.
“But it is not the key to a successful career,” pointed out Saifullah, whose liberal and radical views had, apparently, carried well beyond the portals of school, college and the university. “The hallmark of success is to ride roughshod over subordinates and the weak, and not to speak the truth in front of superiors. The only truth the boss knows is what he wants to hear, such as ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘As you say, sir’.”
“Oh, how the values of life have fallen,” said Khan, nodding his head sadly and for the first time, the etched lines on his forehead became sharper and deeper. But not for long. With spark and hope in the eyes, he said, “What counts most in the matter of piety and goodness is not merely religious affiliation or formal acts of worship and prayer, but the way we discharge our obligations to our fellow human beings.”
“I try to do that in my life, sir...I mean, Mr Khan,” said Anwar.
“You have joined politics, haven’t you Anwar?” asked Mr Khan.
“Yes sir, I mean, Mr Khan,” stuttered Anwar, who was an outstanding debater in school and used his stammering at just the right place to underscore his point, “But I have followed your advice all along. I have not switched parties or sold my loyalty to the highest bidder or misused my political power nor compromised my principles or manifesto on the altar of Mammon.”
“That is very good,” said Khan with unbidden pride.
“Not so good, sir...I mean, Mr Khan. I am way behind my House Building Finance loan and am unable to replace my 1970 model Mazda car. My wife’s jewellry has been mortgaged while my children go to a government school, as I cannot pay the hefty fees charged by private schools.”
“No price is too high for following the right path,” said Khan with finality.
At this stage, the old boys, hand-in-hand with their teacher who had given them all the ‘wrong’ kind of education, moved to the dining room for a sumptuous dinner laid out by their host who hadn’t said a word all evening.
Cherished values have undergone a drastic fall in modern times, and not all that is taught in theory is as simple in real life any more 
