Stories about respect

Keep your hands to yourself, Maulvi sahab

One day while I was travelling on a public bus on my way to university, I felt a hand on my backside. Startled, I turned around in an attempt to catch the culprit. However, the only person standing behind me was an old man. Clad in a white shalwar kameez and topi, this man’s pure white beard was long enough to reach his chest. He couldn’t have been less than seventy-years-old. I doubted myself, thinking that I was just being paranoid and it was probably an accident. The old man probably had¬†several¬†grandchildren my age. He would never commit such ...

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