Not my son but child of my heart

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For me, it was a gift from God. It was also a chance to repay the goodness that I had received from someone in my childhood. Eight years ago, it was raining heavily and I was closing my tea stall for the day, when I saw a boy, about six years old, lying in a park nearby.
I went up to him, but there was no one around. The boy had high fever. I took him in my arms and brought him to my one-room tenement. A few hours later, the boy opened his eyes. When I asked him his name, he replied, “Akbar.” I later learnt that he had got separated from his family in a crowded place.
Akbar was unwell — he was suffering from liver problems, weak limbs and an infected foot, which made it difficult for him to walk. I took him to doctors and got him treated. When he recovered fully, I took him around all parks and shopping centres in the locality hoping to find his family.
For six months, we continued doing rounds of all the crowded public places, and then finally, I decided that I would keep Akbar with me.
However, everyday I waited for someone to come and inquire about Akbar, but no one turned up. I even approached the nearby police station, to find out if there was a missing person’s complaint about a child, but they said there was no such complaint.
Though I thought about it often, I could never gather the courage to hand over Akbar to the police. I was not sure if he would be well-protected there. My friends and neighbours also advised me against it.
Meanwhile, I decided to realise my ambitions through Akbar, and so I enrolled him in a school. Today, he is a bright Class 7 student. After school, he helps me out at my stall, and we both cook and eat together.
I am an orphan myself, and though I was born a Hindu, it was a generous Muslim man who brought me up. When I found Akbar, it was like God telling me that it was time to return the love and care I got from His people. Since my foster father never forced me to change my religion — and ensured that I learnt about Hinduism — I decided that I would bring up Akbar as a Muslim.
Four years ago, I asked him to fast during Ramzan like a good Muslim, which he now does regularly. When I visit a temple, he waits outside for me.
In 2007, a local newspaper published a story about Akbar and me, and then some TV channels also followed it up. Akbar’s biological mother, Shahnaz, was in Allahabad when she claims she saw her son on TV. She immediately came to Lucknow to take Akbar, but the boy simply refused to go with her.
Shahnaz then went to court that ordered a DNA test, which confirmed that Akbar is her son. But in the court, Akbar told the judge that he does not wish to go with his mother, and wants to live with me.
Shahnaz now accuses me of influencing her son. I want to ask her why did she not file a missing complaint when Akbar went missing in 2003? What prompted her to suddenly claim her son after seeing him on TV?
While the court acknowledged Akbar’s plea, and said that the boy could not be forced to live with his mother against his wishes, it also observed that Akbar and I could not be separated just because we belong to different religions.
Shahnaz has now moved the Supreme Court, which has asked her to file an affidavit about her monthly income, the property she owns and the school where her two other children study.
I do not know what the Supreme Court’s verdict will be, but I will abide by it. However, I will not be able to tolerate Akbar being given to his mother against his wishes. I have no family and we both bond wonderfully as father and son.
The boy’s happiness is of utmost importance to me, and I will fight for him. For me, Akbar is my life and it does not matter if we do not share the same religion or the same blood...we share the same heart.
As told to Amita Verma