A Letter to Ghazanfar

My Dear Ghazanfar,

I am in a well here and hoping you are also in a well there. I'm writing
this letter slowly, because I know you cannot read fast.

We don't live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the
newspaper that most accidents happen 20 miles from home, so we moved 20
miles.

I won't be able to send the address as the last people who stayed here
took the house numbers with them for their new house so they would not
have to change their address. Hopefully by next week we will be able to
take our earlier address plate here, and our address will remain same
too.

The weather here isn't too bad. It rained only twice last week. The
First time it rained for 3 days and second time for 4 days.

The coat you wanted me to send you, your aunt said it would be a little
too heavy to send in the mail with all the metal buttons, so we cut them
off and put them in the pocket.

Your father has another job. He has 500 men under him. He is cutting
the grass at the cemetery.

By the way I took Fati to our club's poolside. The manager is Ahmad. He
told her that two-piece swimming suit is not allowed in his club. We
were confused as to which piece should we remove?

Your sister had a baby this morning. I haven't found out whether it is a
girl or a boy, so I don't know whether you are an aunt or uncle.

Your Uncle Ghasem fell in the nearby well. Some men tried to pull him
out, but he fought them off bravely and drowned.

Your best friend, Mahmood, is no more. He died trying to fulfill his
father's last wishes. His father had wished to be buried in the sea
after he died. And your friend died while in the process of digging a
grave for his father.

There isn't much more news this time. Nothing much has happened.

Love,
Mom

P.S. Ghazanfar, I was going to send you some money but by the time I
realized, I had already sealed off this letter.