Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts

Sunday, August 02, 2015

A Letter To Strong And Independent Women

Dear Nataliya, Nadia and Waliya Khan,

May 29, 2015. 

You do not know me but I know you guys quiet a bit. You see, I have been following you as a blogger and as a photographer for almost three years. That is a long time. Sharing a part of you on the internet lets the other person see that version of yourself.

The first time I came across you guys was through a friend who showed me this photograph, taken by Waliyah of your Dad's army uniform. Then I  read about your father passing away from cancer and the hard time you guys went through. I cannot say that its over. Because losing someone is never over. Its an ongoing journey that just gets older as time passes by. That does not make it any easier or any less painful.

Picture taken by Waliya Najib
When I read about your father, I thought to myself that I could feel the pain you guys felt. Because I have lost loved ones in my life. Things that you go through everyday. The fact that he is not at the dining table for breakfast in the morning. Or his empty wardrobe are all reminders of who he was.

I never fully realized what you felt until now. My father was in an accident on April 5. Long story short, he was unconscious for 23 days and underwent 8 major surgeries and numerous minor ones. The first time I saw him, lying on that hospital bed, hooked to a million machines, I thought of you guys. I thought of the hole that is in your lives. And I could not get over on how you do it.

He is a lot better now. He is awake. He is still in ICU but he is doing much better. You see you lost your father and I was about to loose mine. Now I know what you all endured. I know how it felt sitting in that hospital numb to the core, praying for your father's recovery.

Losing someone you love is very hard. You think that you cannot function without them. You believe that that loss is the hardest thing you will ever endure. But when its a parent on that losing table, the story completely changes.

I do not know why I am writing this letter to you guys. Maybe because I want to convey my words to you all. Or because I want you to know that you guys are strong beyond words.

Life is very hard. And the society we live in, is also very cruel. It doesn't wait a second to take advantage of you.

I prayed a lot for your father. He must have been a great man because he has left behind his daughters as his legacy. And when I read Nataliya's thoughts, I see the upbringing you all had. I see the love and care he bestowed upon you guys. And I see you all, living life the way he taught you.

One day, I want to meet you guys in person. I want to see for myself, those people who have been through so much in so little time. I want to experience your courage in real life.

I want you to know that our society needs more girls like you. We need more independent strong women who can handle things themselves, who are not afraid of anyone.

I wish I could say that it will all be okay. And it will be. But it will never be the same.

Your kids will never get to hear about the time you guys moved houses 9 times. Nano won't be there to plan the holidays 6 months before their arrival. Or stock the pantry with their favourite snacks. Or give them endless rides as a horse or a lion.You won't get the chance to have long discussions over a cup of Chai. You won't be able to tell him that his tie is crooked. Or that his laugh makes you laugh. Or that you will miss his views on Imran Khan's second marriage.

August 2, 2015.

My father finally came home on 22nd July 2015. We spent our Eid in the hospital, eating Biryani for breakfast and lunch, eating Almond Delight out of a dish. He had another 3 hour surgery on the third day of Eid, where steel rods were put in his leg. But he is okay. He is home. And he is okay.

You three are an example to many of us. You are a ray of sunshine because looking at you makes me realise that you can get through hardships in life. You can do it. Whether you are a girl or a guy, that is irrelevant. Gender has nothing to do with being strong or standing up for your parents.

People say that boys are ones shoulder in old age. I give these people your example.

My prayers and best wishes are always with you guys. I hope Anya grows up to admire her grandfather as much as I do. I hope that your mom continues to pain, write and inspire many more people. I hope all of you get the best of everything, today and always.

Yours sincerely,

SAP

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Thursday, April 30, 2015

Its What He Would Do

My father is a very religious man. The kind of man whose faith is undeniably strong. He not only tries his best to live according to the Sunnahs but makes sure that others do as well. He has traveled all over the world, dedicating his life to what is called "Tableeg" which is basically trying to become better Muslims and working hard to convey this to others as well.

I am very proud of my father for that. His eyes light up, words gain speed when he starts talking about Islam and trying to be bettet Muslims. Its his passion. Despite that he has never forced any of us to do the same. He has given us that freedom to do things because we believe in them and because its Allah's order. Not because he has forced them upon us.

His journey started in University and since that he has had a beard. Its almost white now with bits of black here and there. But its something that signifies who he is. And what he loves doing. Its not just a beard for him. Its his whole life in form of memory cards with each detail meticulously catolouged. So what do you do when you are given the task of choosing between his love and his life ? Do you choose life because that id what you want ? Or you choose love because that is what he would want ? What do you do when you are forced to take a decision as hard as bombing a nation ?

After almost three weeks in the ICU, doctors said that they need to perform Tracheostomy, a procedure to help a patient breath. Now this is done by making a opening where your neck meets your body. And a pipe is inserted there with a suppory sustem to hold all that in place. The doctors said that its standard procedure to have certain portion where you are go to operate, be sanitized. They needed to shave his beard.

Huzaifa immediately said no. Me and amma said the same. We talked about it. First of all, my father himself had strictly told us not to do anything of the sort if something happens to him. Secondly, it wasnt our place to do that. Its his beard. Something that he has kept all his life. How can we take any decision regarding his beliefs ? You see, I believe in health being above it all. Had it been anyone else, I would have cared less. But this was someone who had spent his life leaving his family to do something good. It was not just a mop of hair on his chin. It was his life's work, staring right at us.

So at first the nurses trimmed it a bit and cut some from the sides after getting our permission. But then it was noy working out. Because there was a high chance of infection where his beard touched the pipe.

We decided to ask someone more knowledgable and called my brother in Pakistan. He asked Muftis (a person who has learnt 50000 Hadees and is most knowledgeable about Islam). He said that you can shave the beard if its absolutely necessary. Even then Huzaifa relented. He kept saying no. The doctors were very cooperative and did their best to help us.

In the end, aftet a suggestion from a nurse, Huzaifa decided to trim his beard himself. He tied the longest at the chin. And then trimmed the rest.

My point is I am not that religious. Neither is Huzaifa. And it was really hard to take these decisions. It was like questioning whether to throw all my books or keep them in storage. The answer was hard and not ours to give. But under the circumstances we had to.

This was not about what we wanted to do. This was about what Abbu would want to be done in such a situation. Life has a sick sense of humour to do these kind of things. It throws oranges at you while asking you to make lemonade. What you have to do is make Orangeade.

Sometimes you do what the other person wants while putting your thoughts behind. You do it because deep down you know that you would want someone to follow your wishes if you were the one in that situation. We all have different things wr believe in. What we need to remember is what the other person believes in.

                           ...SAP.....

Wednesday, July 02, 2014

30 Day Challenge: Day 2

Day 2 Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.

My name is Omar Ahmad. I was born in Gulshan Iqbal, Karachi on a night where lightning and a dark storm had engulfed the whole city. Being the only kid gave me everything I wanted. I had a never ending pocket money, bicycle, a laptop, Play Station and its various games, Limited Edition Nikes and the latest phone in my hand.

I finished Elementary school. And went on to the prestigious Agha Khan Secondary School because it was my fathers dream. I barely got in by a minute percentage difference.

Besides I had nothing to worry about as long as my fees was being paid and I had money in my pockets. During my school years, I wanted a bike. So my father went ahead and bought me one.

Than I wanted to go on a trip around Pakistan, with my friends. I knew that a my father's sister was getting married and money was a little tight. But I asked for a couple grand and he handed me the money without a question or a crease in his forehead.

Than came university. My father's only life mission was to make me an engineer. Because he could never become one. So he lavished his hard work on me to make me succeed and see his dreams being fulfilled.

Only I did not want to do anything. Period.

I wanted to enjoy life. I wanted to sleep till 3 in the afternoon, roam around with my friends and spend money like the millionaire I never was.

I made him promise me to buy a car if I got in, in a university.

I got admission in the most pathetic university of the city. But I got what I wanted. A brand new car, to show off to my friends and smoke in.

In the middle of my university years, a friend of mine went to the states. I saw his pictures and heard his bragging about American girls and making money the easy way. I decided to go as well.

I asked him for money. I told him what I wanted it for. And I was so blind, I did not even see the tears brimming in his eyes, his callous hands and white hair telling a story of hardships and sacrifices.

I got the visa. I booked the ticket. And I came here. I left him. I left the thing that should have been most precious to me. But I was so selfish to ever see that.

I lost the most important thing in my life on purpose.

...SAP...