03 March 2026,daily writing prompt: not representatives of the fact

Every day in our lives, certain events occur that do not allow us to solely consider things from a superficial perspective. We all know that if we read one side of a story and leave the other page unturned, we can never truly know. Let me share such a story with you today.

In the village school, Rahmat Ali was the mathematics teacher. While teaching statistics, he would often say, "Not all truths come from statistics, my son. What you receive may not represent the actual information." The students would laugh, but the statistics of Rahmat Ali's life were even more peculiar. Rahmat Ali's only son, Akash, was well-employed in the city. The amount of money sent by Akash was quite enviable in the eyes of neighbors and relatives. A substantial sum arrived in Rahmat Ali's bank account every month. The villagers would say there was no happier man than Rahmat Sahib; his son had provided him with royal comfort.

However, this 'happy data' did not truly represent reality. Receipts of Akash's money would come, but there had been no phone call from Akash in the last three years. Rahmat Ali's old glasses were broken, and he could hardly see—that was not noted in the receipts. He suffered from severe pain in his knees, having to hold onto the wall to stand up to drink water in the middle of the night—none of that pain registered as 'data' in the bank statements.

One night, a neighboring youth named Shafik saw Rahmat Ali sitting alone on the porch, talking to himself. Shafik approached and asked, "Uncle, who are you talking to?Rahmat Ali smiled faintly and said, "I'm talking to Akash. I have an old picture of him from his childhood, and I speak to it."

Shafik, astonished, said, "Why, Uncle? Akash sends you so much money every month; he could buy a smartphone and video call you."Rahmat Ali held his worn childhood picture of Akash close to his chest and said, "People who see the numbers think I'm happy, but that number doesn’t represent my loneliness. Akash sends money to fulfill his responsibilities, but that money carries no love for his father. Mathematically, I might be the richest father in the village, but in terms of heart, I am the biggest beggar."

That day, Shafik realized that the greatest truths of life are often hidden behind the veil of data.