Amar Bail

A plant of eternity

Posts Tagged ‘Death’

The Dream – A Short Story

Posted by Haris Gulzar on December 8, 2010

I’m copying the following from a friend’s note on Facebook. I found it totally worth sharing.

–Once upon a time there was a man in the jungle enjoying a nice day watching the equatorial lush green foliage and the exotic animal life. Suddenly, the man heard the movement of a lion behind him and so ran for his life. But the man couldn’t escape and came face to face with the lion. As he was thinking quickly of another way to escape, he saw a deep well to his right. His options were narrowed between drowning in the well and being chewed by the hungry lion.

The man decided to jump into the well hoisting himself with a rope tied to the top of the well for drawing water. As he reached the bottom of the well, the man saw a huge man-eating snake taking a nap at the bottom; the man pulled himself up in the middle of the well, suspended between a hungry lion on the top and a sleeping snake at the bottom.

Meanwhile the man noticed that two mice, one black and one white were chewing the rope he was hanging on, making it thinner and thinner. The man began to swing with the rope hitting the sides of the walls of the well periodically. Suddenly he felt something sticky on his shoulder, as he examined what it was, he found that it was honey. Upon looking around the well he noticed a bee colony on the wall of the well.

The man forgot the dangerous situation he was involved in and started licking the honey to his satisfaction. He suddenly remembered where he was and jumped out of bed. The man was dreaming all along. The man went to a Sheikh to interpret his dream. The Sheikh laughed and asked him: “You do not understand this dream?” The man replied “Yes sir, I do not.”

The Sheikh said “The lion that was chasing you is the Angel of Death. The well which housed the snake is your grave. The rope in the well that you were hanging on is your lifetime ticking away. The Rodents chewing your rope, the black and the white mice are the day and the night. The man asks “The honey, Sir, What is the honey?” The Sheikh replied “The honey is the life of this world and its temptations which made you forget that there was death behind you and a grave ahead of you. You end up in the grave while savoring the taste of the honey until you find yourself standing trial for your deeds in a Court of Law of the most Just kind.

The above narration was just intended to remind us that we are also busy licking the honey (lost in the temptations of this world) while our life time is ticking away. Some day (sooner or later) we will also face the angel of death and will be carried to our grave!

Say: “Verily, the death from which you flee will surely meet you, then you will be sent back to (Allah), the All-Knower of the unseen and the seen, and He will tell you what you used to do.” {Surat Al-Jumu`ah, Verse 8}

Think and Reflect.

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From where I see it

Posted by Haris Gulzar on November 26, 2010

137

But I was wrong. You win. You beat her, or probably she let you beat her. Probably she accepted defeat herself. Maybe you were too much for her, though I’m sure she gave you a tough fight. Two and a half years, long surgeries, all sorts of medicines, frequent visits to the hospital and staying admitted there at times, bearing all those pains that are easier to talk about but extremely difficult to feel, not eating anything that might have ignited you again, it isn’t easy you know. She was definitely very strong. You were almost asleep for good, but then you woke up, only to prove her strength was not enough…

But hey cancer, don’t you see the tears a father has in his eyes after losing his princess? Don’t you see how broken he feels? Don’t you see him bursting into tears all of a sudden? Don’t you see how shaken he is with what you have done? A father who, she used to tell me, loved her more than anyone else. She told me, if there was anyone to go to the extremes of doing something for her, it would be her father. Someone who could do whatever it took only to make his daughter smile. But you don’t see all of this do you? You just don’t know how terrible it is for a father to see his child lying dead in front of him. For you, it’s only your strength to prove isn’t it?

And you don’t even see the confusion on the face of a five year old boy who wakes up the next morning and doesn’t find his mother around him. Who doesn’t even know why isn’t he being sent to the school. Who doesn’t know who to call if he needs a feeder of milk, or wants to get cleaned after getting his pants wet. And you certainly don’t see the tears a three year old girl has in her eyes, not because her mother is not living anymore, but only because everyone around her is crying. This child wouldn’t even know what actually happened. She wouldn’t know where her mother went and if she’s ever coming back or not. You just don’t care do you?

And I’m sure you are least concerned with what a mother felt when she was told her daughter is no more. With what a brother and a sister felt when they came to know about the death of their eldest sibling, and no doubt, you’re least concerned with whatever each individual associated with her felt when the news of her death broke. You’re just concerned with winning aren’t you? You just know your strength. But is it what you call winning? Is this how you defeat people? If only you had feelings, I’m sure you’d be ashamed of yourself today.

You haven’t won Mr. Cancer, you might have shown your strength alright, but this isn’t a win. She might have been beaten, but this is not a victory for you. In fact, from where I’m seeing it, you’ve actually lost. I’m just so proud of my friend to have fought with you, and to have fought so well. You’ve lost Mr. Cancer, you’ve lost…

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Those who matter – 3

Posted by Haris Gulzar on August 22, 2010

I never thought I’d write about this person when I started writing about the people who mattered in my life. But that’s what life is all about I guess. Who knows who’d be living the very next moment…

Muhammad Umar Khan. I first met him on the 5th of June 2008 at the PC hotel Lahore where we gathered for our group discussion and interviews for IBA admissions. That entire day was enough to make the 10 or 11 of us become friends of each other, because we all were to be part of the IBA hostelite family once selected. I had my interview taken ahead of everyone else because of the alphabetical order and I wasn’t allowed to see my other fellows waiting to be interviewed, so I could only exchange mobile phone number of Umar, that too in a hurry, before I left the hotel. Hence, Umar was the person I communicated with for anything related to IBA before we actually submitted our fee. I would ask him if he is planning to join IBA or waiting for other options, or if he’d start his job? I’d ask him if he had filled out all the forms or not? I’d ask him if his other class fellows who got selected for IBA were willing to join IBA? I’d ask him to stop thinking much and to make up his mind once and for all and submit the fee…

The second time we met each other was on the 30th of July, 2008. That was in Karachi, when we had our orientation. The journey started from there. I moved into my hostel room on the 31st of July 2008, and Umar moved in on the 1st of August. We would just sit together in the TV lounge and talk about everything. We would go to the market together. We would wait for each other before we had our meals in the mess. We would be found in each other’s rooms more often than being found in our own rooms. We would make project groups together. We would participate in competitions together. We would walk to the campus together and would come back to hostel together. Umar Khan was one of the closest friends I had at the IBA.

I also wrote about one of the experiences I had with Umar in a competition held at the IBA. That post can be found here. Before summer vacations were to start, several companies came to IBA for recruiting our seniors and for our internships. One of them was GSK who, when they came, gave the attendees some gifts. Their gifts included a small tension reliever ball, that we played catch catch with :-P. I remember whenever I went to Umar’s room, I got hold of that tension reliever ball of his and would throw it on his room walls as hard as I could and would catch it. Sometimes he would sit on his bed and I’d stand in front of one of the walls and would throw the ball on another wall in such a way that made it difficult for Umar to catch it, and Umar would have to dive on his bed to catch the ball.

We also used to celebrate our birthdays at the hostel, though it was always a four or five member gathering, but we would bring cakes and would cut them at exact 12 midnight. We used to take pictures and make videos of those celebrations using Umar’s mobile. He just had his 24th birthday on the 2nd of April this year and I remember Shahid and Waqar trying to get hold of him and me making a video of the entire event, to make him wear things we brought for Umar that he didn’t want to wear :-P.

Umar was one of the luckiest guys from our entire batch at IBA who got a job before the exams ended. He started his job on the 12th of July in Karachi. On the 27th of July, I had a chat with him and he told me he’d be coming to Rawalpindi to attend to his mothers surgery, and that he might also come to Lahore over the weekend. I asked him to stay at my place if he does come to Lahore. He told me the details about his mothers operation and that he had taken three days off from office and would be flying the next morning.

That flight didn’t allow him to see his mother get well after the operation :-(, in fact, it even took him away from his family. The ill-fated airblue flight from Karachi to Islamabad had one of my best friends in it, and that flight took him away from all of us. A few days back I was going through the pictures of my stay at IBA and was recalling the times we were together. The pictures at the beach, at the restaurants, at ice-cream parlors, at the hostel, in the funniest of poses.

His memories are never ending and ever lasting. I pray that his soul rests in peace at the highest of places in Jannah Insha-Allah, and that Allah gives sabar to his family. Ameen. Umar Khan, you will always be remembered Insha-Allah. I miss you…

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Those who matter – 2

Posted by Haris Gulzar on July 22, 2010

When I came back to Lahore after my final exams ended around mid June, I met one of my street friends who started off his conversation by asking me if I came to know about Omer. I asked him what happened and was told that Omer passed away a week back. Omer was another street friend, exactly my age, as in we had the same date of birth. We’ve played so much cricket together and have spent so much time together that it was extremely difficult for me to even believe he is not living anymore :-(. I remember when we used to sit late in the evenings after our matches were over, and we used to discuss what we wanted to become in our lives. We would discuss our options and which Universities we could apply to. I remember him telling me that he cleared the entry test for Army and that he had decided what he wanted to become.

We used to organize cricket matches amongst the adjacent blocks of the society we lived in. We would just walk to the streets of other blocks, find boys playing cricket there and would ask them if they wanted to have a match with our team. These street matches were starters to big matches that were played in grounds on Sunday mornings. We would fight on the stupidest of things such as if the bowled ball was a no ball or not, and if the runner had completed the run. I even remember us backing for each other if any of us got engaged in a quarrel or something. He was an extremely good batsman and lead our team most of the times. I just can’t stop visualizing his face right in front of me every now and then. We used to be together for most of our evenings, specially in Summers.

But then he joined Pakistan Army, and I started my Engineering studies. Another street friend left for abroad for his studies, and yet another friend went to GIKI for his studies. That was when the members of our cricket team chose their own paths, and though we still met but not that regularly. But Omer and I met a bit more frequently whenever he was in Lahore, maybe because we were the same age.

This friend who told me about Omer’s death told me that Omer was the commanding officer of his sepoys at Siyachin post and was coming back after completing his term there when he slipped off the mountain :-(. Although his body was recovered but he had fatal head injuries and he couldn’t survive. It is just so difficult to believe that the person I’ve spent my childhood with is not living anymore. He is one person I probably won’t forget, not in my near future atleast. May Allah grant him Jannah and me his soul rest in peace. Ameen

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Those who matter – 1

Posted by Haris Gulzar on July 15, 2010

Life has to end, but no one knows when. At times it only shocks us to come to know about someone who passed away, after which we realize how important that person actually was. Yesterday, while having dinner with my friends, we somehow touched upon the topic of sudden death and recalled people who died suddenly, only leaving people behind them shocked…

One of my teachers at IBA, Dr. Iqbal, recently passed away. It was nothing less than a shock to come to know about his death. Though he did have white hair and aged skin, but he was healthy. Not only healthy physically, but from heart. He was probably the most soft spoken person I ever met. He unfortunately did not have any children, and at times during his lectures, when he needed to give examples to explain his point, he would take examples from his life. He would always try to be as realistic as possible. He would even tell us table manners and etiquettes, he would tell us how one should be dressed up. He would tell us how we should use words such that the other person gets the message without feeling bad about what we want to convey. We usually did not like his teachings as we thought they weren’t too related with the course contents, but I guess we were wrong. He taught us Business communication and Negotiation, and I can so relate to his words and how each of his lesson was so important.

Dr. Iqbal had close association with hostelites. He even came to the hostel one day at around 8:30 in the morning and had breakfast with us before his class was due to start at 9:00 am. He always open heartedly invited the hostelites to his place. As I mentioned earlier that he did not have any children, he would at times ask us more than once to visit his place, specially on Sunday mornings, and to have Sunday breakfast with him. A few of us hostelites planned a couple of times to visit his place but somehow those plans couldn’t be implemented. This is one regret I have, not being able to visit his place even after he invited us so many times…

He died from a cardiac arrest. it is still hard to believe that he is not living anymore :-(. May Allah rest his soul in peace. Ameen

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Associations

Posted by Haris Gulzar on September 8, 2009

Its amazing how we develop associations with those we hardly know. Associations that aren’t only associations on the face of it, but are deep and meaningful. And not always do we realize the sense of association unless we part with those whom we feel associated with. These people may not be our closest of friends, but only someone we met a couple of times only. These people themselves may not be valuable to us, but a feel of their existence after we part might be very valuable.

In my first semester here at IBA, I was a teaching assistant of a course that was being taught to the first year BBA students. There were 3 sections of this course, about 120 students for whom I was assisting the teacher. Although I didn’t know each and every student by name and face by the end of semester, but I did know quiet a lot of them, specially those with whom I used to have a bit more interaction. Students usually came to me to submit their assignments or reports, or occasionally a couple of them would come to ask something from some other course they were taking.

That was the entire relationship I had with those 120 students. A sort of a student teacher relationship, where the teacher (not exactly a teacher but sort of a teacher) didn’t even know each and every of his students, but still I felt associated with them. In the second semester, whenever any of my students would see me, they would say Salam to me and I’d reply and ask about their health. Some of them used to discuss with me their teachers and their gpas and their progress in courses etc, although I wasn’t assisting any of their teachers in the 2nd semester. It somehow felt good to see them.

One morning when I was getting ready for my class, a fellow hostelite who happened to be one of my students as well, came to my room and told me that one of their class fellows had a severe accident while to coming to university. A bus ran over him. He just told me about the accident and didn’t tell me if that student made it or not, but his shaky voice and the hurriedness said it all. When I reached the campus, which is hardly a 7~8 minutes walk from hostel, I could tell immediately that he did not make it. The way people were sitting in groups, saddened, a few of them having tears in their eyes, and a few faces shocked by the news, it was apparent that my student had died.

He was 19. I didn’t know him much, but he was my student. That day, whenever any of our teachers asked our class if we knew the boy, I raised my hand and said he was my student. I so felt bad every time I mentioned it. I felt bad only because I knew him. Only because I had a feeling of association with him, and I only realized it when he was no more…

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