I was around 15 years of age when I had made up my mind to read the whole Quran.
I attempted to read it all by using some basic Arabic that I had acquired by then.
By then I had no formal training in its recitation.
We had a normal house but it was surrounded by a big garden that grew many types of trees. Olives, Almonds, figs, peaches, plums etc.
I chose to read it under the shade of the grape tree.
Each time I recited, it felt special.
Each time, it felt different though.
There was very little, if any, comprehension of what was recited.
After about two months, I finished reciting it all.
I felt that I had to tell my father.
As soon as I saw him, I exclaimed: “I have read the whole Quran.”
My father was a man of few words. He was always very economical with his words and his reply was: “You !”
My ego took a hit. My self was deflated. My feet were back on the ground.
However my resolve to carry on, on that path remained unshaken.
My father knew that too well. He was always supportive of my education but he did not like people boasting.
Many years have passed and with the grace of God, I can now recite it meeting the basic standards of recitation.
However to read it, maybe one day when the “I” is not on the way.