Sarfraz Manzoor

Last Friday I was in Luton for a guided tour of Luton that was arranged by a friend who works for the Hat Factory. There were around twenty people who had signed up to learn about the history of Bury Park and to hear some personal memories from me. It was good fun with Fahim filling in the facts and me throwing in some rather tangential recollections. The most moving part of the evening came at the end when the walk culminated in a visit to the central mosque in Bury Park. The group walked in and had a look around. It was then that a man came up to me and said that while I would not recognise him he recognised me as the son of Mohammed Manzoor, whom he had known. The elders of the mosque had by this time brought out a large box of Asian sweets that they were offering to everyone. 'I see you on television' the man told me 'and every time I see you I always think that at least someone from around here got out.' That wasn't the exact translation, the actual words were in Urdu and they were freighted with a deep sense of pride and an awareness of the enormity of coming from the background that those of us who grew up in Luton shared and having the life I have now. Thats not a comment on those who are still in Luton, more a comment on the surrealness of the journey from Bury Park to wherever I am now. It was very moving hearing him say those words, words that I very rarely hear to be honest and maybe it was because of this that they stayed with me. We most seek approval from those least likely or able to give it.