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Autobiography - What life means to me?

I was born on 28th of April 1991. I started my education from a nearby primary school called Ladybird. I was living with my parents, three brothers and my sister. At the age of 5 I was in class 1 in Toronto School of Academic Excellence. In 1996 I had an outstanding vacation to Canada for 2 months. We liked it so much that we visited to Canada again in 1998 and 2000. What life means to me? “In the end, it’s not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away”.

“When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile”. Unforgettable Moments

Some memories are unforgettable. I have two moments to share. One of them is a happy moment whilst the other one is sad. However I will share the sad one first so I can end my autobiography with a happy ending. It was about one of the most burning hot afternoon, the temperature would have been around 35 to 40 degree centigrade.

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I was with my brother in the car, and my dad was sitting on a bench across the street, outside the AGA Khan Hospital. My mom was in the hospital for a routine check up. I wanted to go to my dad across the street. As my brother was sleeping in the car, I decided to go by myself.

I could see my dad talking to a person next to him. I was only 7 years old. As I was young and immature, without looking right and left, I started crossing the road and headed towards my dad impatiently.

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When I was only half way across unexpectedly I heard tires screeching and felt a sudden rush of pain coming from my legs. It happened all so quickly. Within a jiffy I was laying flat on the street crowded by dozens of people. When I gained consciousness I saw my mom crying and sitting beside me in the car and holding me in her arms. I saw my feet covered with by mom’s blood soaked scarf.

The first hospital we went to said that they couldn’t do anything because it was a police case. Due to lack of time and excessive bleeding from my feet and bruises on my head, we couldn’t wait for the police so they told us to go to another hospital that do not have stringent rules about police case victims. So my dad drove as fast as he could. He was driving through the hot dry wind. And the frigid wind screamed across the wilderness. Finally, we got there on time and the doctors bandaged my feet and cleaned up my bruises. I was ordered to have three days of bed rest.

My brother got told off, as he ought to have taken care of me. But still my dad calmed down after looking at me. I felt sorry for my brother and I knew it was entirely my fault. I learned a lesson in this incident that “never cross the road without someone older than you or if you are mature enough then you should look around before crossing the road. Well that was the bad part. Now it’s time for the good part. I don’t really remember when this happened as it is a bit of a blur in my memory but still I managed to remember the gist of it. It was before my ninth birthday. When my dad took me to the market to buy some groceries.

When we were going inside the grocery shop, the bicycle shop next to it caught my eyes. I was crazy about bikes. When I saw my dad busy buying groceries, I sneaked outside and started exploring the different bikes and their advanced mechanisms like their smooth brakes. I just could not get my hands off those bikes as, I had always dreamed of having one. I started to visualize myself with each one of those bikes, riding swiftly down the streets, smashing through the autumn breeze. I was so engrossed in my day dreaming that I didn’t hear what the shopkeeper said but his interruption broke the chain of my dreams.

I asked the shopkeeper how much would the bike cost to which he instantly replied “18000 rupees”. I started to wonder that this was too expensive and would take a lot of my months pocket money to get to 18000 rupees and probably by that time I would not have so much of a crave for those bikes. I was so disappointed that I left the shop without saying a word. I went back to the grocery shop and started looking for my dad. A voice came from behind “Salman I am behind you”. I ran towards him excitedly. I wanted to tell him about the bikes but I thought to myself that they are too expensive. I should just let them go.

Looking at my facial expression, my dad asked me “what’s wrong do you want to say something son? ” I sighed, and said “No it’s ok”. We walked back home together and I was quiet for most of the journey, still imagining those fascinating bikes. The next morning when I woke up my mom wished me happy birthday and hugged me. There was no one at home. My brother and sister had already left for school and my dad was at work. I waited for them to come back so I could cut my chocolate cake topped with cherry and vanilla icing. It looked so delicious. I just could not wait to get a mouth full of the soft chocolate.

Everyday my dad used to be home by six in the evening but for some reason he was late. I waited for him anxiously so that I could cut my cake and open up my presents. Finally he was home at seven and surprisingly he was not alone. He had bought me the same bike. I could not believe my eyes. I was completely gob smacked. I stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the bike. It seemed too good to be true. I was jumping all around with excitement. After I had released my excitement, I started to look at my dad and I tried to work out “how he knew that I wanted this bike”.

I was still thinking about it when he started to answer my thought by saying “I saw you at the bicycle shop and I was very aware of your passion for bicycles” I was completely astonished that he even knew what I was thinking just by reading my face. He continued saying that “Parents always know about their children’s needs”. I thought “that just explains it all”. It was the best birthday I ever had. These are some of the moments I wanted to share with everyone. I can’t forget these two episodes of my life. They play a very important part in my life.

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Autobiography - What life means to me?. (2017, Nov 06). Retrieved from

Autobiography - What life means to me?

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