I had never thought that I would have a day in my life which would completely grab me in its shackles of nostalgia of someone close to me. I woke up this morning trying to get up and waited for the voice of footsteps of my brother who always dashed to the bathroom first but I was disappointed. Thought of my brother not being among us now dawned upon me. I felt pain. A deep pain.
Even after I had offered my morning prayer , the pain was still there. A huge gap was there in the heart. All those memories of Arham Khan (Shaheed) resonated in my mind. I felt the urge to set my gaze on stairs through which he would come down fast for breakfast. I glanced but caught the emptiness of marble slates. When we all sat in our car ready for school, I waited strongly for that voice which would ask me to turn on the radio. But the voice was not there. As I turned my face backwards from my front seat , my eyes were again disappointed when I saw the middle seat that used to be occupied by my brother was empty.
“Do not grieve. Everything you lose comes around in another form” was once said by Rumi. I feel it hard to believe . What will come around in exchange of my brother’s cuteness that still haunts my mind ? What wil come around in exchange of my Principal’s ( Qazi Shaheed) caring words ? Rumi’s words cannot console me.
I recall that during our last year of Intermediate, we were asked for a group photo with our Principal and staff teachers. I cannot forget the proud expression that swept on the face of her. It was as if we were her children and her efforts to grow us up paid off at last..
Today when I was watching the morning assembly at APS on TV ,my eyes tried hard to find her on the pedestal.I made an effort to find her on the ground near the benches where she used to stand tall and proud but I was repeatedly reminded of her absence. After two and three times the desperateness in my eyes wore off and I accepted that she was not here anymore. Then I started looking for others. Yet again I could not find the heartbreaking smile of Sir Saeed. Stern look of Sir Nawab. Cheerful face of Madam Shehnaz. Jolly and humble faces of my junior who would call me ‘Shaheer bhai !”.
Whether it was the caring nature of Madam Qazi that lingers on my thoughts , the love and ambition of my brother I feel the inability to believe that a massacre could take place on such sacred ground where I spent a portion of my life, these people will remain engraved in my memory. Sadly I never knew them fully but I know now.Though the grief is hard to bear but I believe in Fyodor’s words who said;
“The darker the night , the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief,the closer is God”
