September 9

My eldest uncle, dad’s oldest brother, lost his battle to cancer on this day around 26 years ago. 

Each year, as September 9 rolls by, it is a dark and gloomy day for us. Even though I was only 1 when my uncle  died, and I don’t remember anything about him- only stories, I am just as much affected by his death.

All of my family gathers at my grandparents on this day. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Dad and his siblings don’t go to work today. We have lunch and dinner with my grandparents. Dad visits my uncle’s grave with all the men. They feed the poor in my uncle’s name. We desperately try to lift my grandparents sad moods. It’s a ritual that is happening ever since I can remember. 

Of course, losing a child is hard. And it is the worst thing ever. Especially, if it’s your first born, too. My uncle died at 35, leaving behind two children. Babies, really. 2 and 4 years old. My grandmother raised them. His daughter is like my sister and we have grown up together. And maybe that’s why her pain is my pain and why this day is painful for me, too. 

I have never seen my grandmother break down before. She has always stayed strong, composed. She is the kind of woman who takes on a challenge and climbs the highest mountain without a sweat. She is never weak to the world. Sure, she has been emotional at times, but barely. Until today. 

It’s a worst kind of feeling, when you hear your grandmother sob like a child does. It wrecks you, it shatters you… It cuts like a hundred knives. And I can’t get the sound out of my head… 

I started crying, too. Everyone did.

Today was a very gloomy day, indeed. 

It’s been 26 years, but some wounds never heal… I have so much love and respect for all the parents who continue to have courage after losing their children…. You are brave and surely, your patience and courage will be rewarded. Amen. 

No matter how old or young, children should bury their parents. Not the other way around.  

The Richest Poor Man

In Journalism class, many many moons ago, we were asked to select a living influential person, or a celebrity, and write an obituary on them. While my classmates preferred to write on actors and singers, I chose Mr. Edhi. I have always been inspired by him to be a better human. I hope I always am.

Around 2 weeks ago, we lost him. A very remarkable human being, arguably one of the biggest social worker, humanitarian and philanthropist of his era, left behind a whole nation in mourning. What a terrible, terrible blow for us.

The nation’s hero, in the truest sense. He was probably the only good thing (of a few) to come out of this place we call Pakistan. He gave up everything to help the poor, devoted his entire life for the destitute. I feel ashamed, for I am not even half as great, selfless and modest as he was. I hope I always would be encouraged to be more like him.

His passing away is a huge loss for humanity indeed, not just for Pakistan, but for the whole world. One thing I know for sure. Angels do walk on this earth amongst us.

Here is a link to his exceptional foundation that acts as a safety net for the poor, needy and helpless that he created basically out of nothing.

May he rest in peace. Amen. 💔❤️

 

Ali

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. His hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see. 

Rest in peace, Muhammad Ali. May God grant you the highest place in paradise, Ameen. ❤️❤️❤️

I grew up watching your fights on tape, on repeat. Hundred times a day, my brother would rewind, forward and pause and rewind again, and make me and my sister watch all your fights and interviews and glorious moments continuously.

You were really handsome, and tbh, you have set the bar really high for me. I admit I developed a crush on you, from the moment I first saw you on TV. You were so sassy, and beautiful and confident, you stole my heart right there and then!

A couple of years ago, I set up a google alert on my email to get news about you, and I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s so heartbreaking. I was really dreading this day. The good are always the first to leave early. And surely the world is a lot gloomier now that you’re gone.

You will always be remembered by this tomboyish girl. I love you. ❤️❤️❤️

Why friend breakups hurt the most?

Maybe because making friends isn’t easy.

Breaking up with a lover means losing half of your heart, which you can more or less put back together in time. But breaking up with a friend results in losing half of your soul, and that never completely heals. You feel lost, useless and you’ll be afraid… Afraid to find a new friend. And that is devastating.

Losing a friend is just painful. Especially if they were really true friends. Then be prepared for your entire world to crumble up.

I have had a history of friendship breakups all my life. And this one hurt the most. Maybe because now I am older and making friends at this point in my life does not come easy.

Sigh. I’ll be eating icecream alone tonight.

Stone cold

A friend just told me that my sadness is just routine now. I don’t know what to feel about that. But that got me thinking. I do usually stay up at night, and one thought leads to another and I feel quite miserable and sad and cry for a bit. Usually, this happens every other night. And like my friend said, it’s routine. How do I stop my depression? Is there a button that I could just press to switch it off?

Always, Alan Rickman

There are no words… What those books mean to me, I can’t explain it. Every character has become like a family member, and to lose one is just heartbreaking. I was so not ready for this. I wasn’t even expecting it! 😞😞😞

I am so saddened and shocked right now. Rest in peace, Alan. You will always be remembered and forever missed. 😭❤️❤️❤️

*This post got saved as a draft, and I didn’t check to see if it was published. 

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