It seems like another lifetime when I think about it. But some memories are addictive; you find yourself reaching for them to gain some strange euophoria. Though when I think of him, I realize there was nothing particularly euophoric about the entire experience. It was in fact, if anything, mostly unpleasent. Yet I like thinking about him, well not so much him, as what his presence entailed in my life. And fortunately, in your mind’s eye, recollecting the happenings of an entire year or so are only a matter of a few quick flashes. Let me see how many words it takes to pen down those flashes…

He was certainly the single most good-looking human being I had come acorss and after more than ten years, I still think he was one of the finer-looking samples of the male species. The first time I laid eyes on him, I thought I was witnessing a mirage. For how could someone so absolutely gorgeous-looking just stand there and not create havoc? It might sound terribly rediculous when I recall it right now but seriously, there was something about him. And as you will soon discover, I was not the only one who maintained this opinion.

Hair parted in the middle was all the rage at that time and on him, it suited to perfection. He had rather small, beady eyes that seemed to dance with mischief and glint with mystery all at the same time. When he looked at you, you had the very pleasent illusion that he saw only you. This was odd because I usually caught him looking at me from far distances and yet, he managed to convey this very flattering feeling. He walked with a swagger that comes only with the kind of confidence someone like him can possess. If you want to create a mental picture of him… I can help you a little bit; I used to be a fan of this boy band called Boyzone and one band member looked a lot like this guy. Except this guy possessed that alluring element of mystery and hotness that the band member does not. Haha. And instead of calling him “this guy”, let’s call him Stephen/Steve (that was the band member’s name.. haha)!!

So he was in my college, a couple of years senior than me. I was perhaps, 16? Ok I know it sounds like I was way little but hey, I felt pretty old – I was a teen!! Haha! So anyway, boyfriends etc. were way off limits; I was a “good girl” and firmly believed that revealing my crush to anyone was a mortal shame. Good girls didn’t talk to boys or even admit they liked one so I nursed my crush silently. In my head, I was having an “affair” with him anyways and mind you, “affair” merely meant I liked him and he liked me and we were together etc. but for all this time, we never even talked.

It just meant the world to me to be able to check him out every day. If I couldn’t spot him any day, I’d have a miserable day. And if I managed to catch sight of him after searching all day, my sun suddenly shone and I was on top of the world. He also lived close to my house and as I’ve mentioned before, my dad was in the PAF so we lived in the complex. In the evenings, it was normal for all the “kids” to be out and about… I used to go strolling with my friends. I couldn’t wait for the evenings when I could wear my nicest outfit, go out and seek my crush. He used to be either playing cricket with his friends or strolling around too. I was sure that he liked me back. He always looked at me and noticed me. One time I caught him staring at me. Literally staring unabashedly! I went red all over and asked my friend if I was mistaken about “that” guy staring at me. She assured me I was not and wondered why he looked at me so. She followed that by commenting on his extreme good looks. I shrugged, outwardly nonchalant, inwardly my heart singing with utter joy! My friend further went on to tell me his name (yes, I hadn’t known it yet and how could I?) and that he was quite popular for his good looks. Then she sighed and said, “Looks like he likes you…!!” I was sure that day that he did indeed like me but was just as shy as I was. The truth was that no matter how much I liked him, I was not gonna do anything about it at all. I had no courage whatsoever and I’d been taught to avoid boys like the plague. I could never ever defy my parents and take such a bold step as actually talk to a boy!

So my silent pining continued. I was so convinced I was in love. It hurt so badly the days I didn’t see him. And then there was the time he completely disappeared. It was summer and the school was off so the only time I got to see him was in the evenings, outside. To my utter misery, I did not see him for weeks! I finally confided in a friend of mine who knew someone who knew him and it was discovered that he’d gone out of town to visit with his cousins. There was no information regarding his return and I spent every day praying it would be the day I saw him. The days were dreary and empty. Life lost all meaning. I had nothing to live by but the memory of those piercing black eyes gazing unflinchingly at me and the hope that they would return.

They finally did, with their possessor and I vaguely recally jumping for joy when I saw him. A terribly shameful reaction, in retrospect. Anyway, at this point I had begun to doubt his feelings for me. How could he just leave for such a long time? I was suddenly very insecure and began to think he probably didn’t even know I existed. After all, he was such an attractive guy and I was a nobody. (At this point, I’d like to add that I was very naive and humble-minded; in point of fact, I was probably at least as good-looking as him back then!! haha) 

So this story appears to be becoming longer than I’d anticipated. I guess I’ll have to finish it at another time!

To be continued…

I need some suggestions for a Halloween costume… fast… Here are some guidelines..

1- Preferably should include clothes I already own… sari, scarves.. ….. ….. er, ok perhaps I don’t own very exciting items of clothing so ok, I’m willing to spend a little money. Little being the operative word here..

2- Something that hopefully incorporates my scarf.. perhaps a hat? (I considered dressing up as an Arab Princess but I’d still have to buy a gown for that and those are expensive!)

3- Something good.. I don’t wanna be dressed as someone evil. We don’t wanna let that cat outta the bag

4- Of course, nothing like a Wonder Woman  costume for obvious reasons.

Thanks!!

He and I were more like twins growing up. Of course, I don’t remember too much from when we were little but the flashes of memory I do have are all sweet and heart-warming; he and I chasing eachother in the park, us posing in a loving hug for Papa’s camera, me getting upset over something frivolous and he trying to convince me to forget about it… there are so many sweet memories like that. All of them deeply treasured and many of them revisited when we meet.

Through our teenager years we went through some rough patches but our story played out like a bad day-time opera; all the dramtic screaming, accusing, the ensuing silence and then the final make up. It makes me smile now but at that time, it was pretty heartbreaking. I felt so disconnected from him and in a way, betrayed. How did I lose my best friend? Where did my sweet little brother go? Why had he become so cruel? But I guess, being a teenager is serious stuff and there are some things a young man’s gotta do to be where he needs to get. So that time was stressful for our relationship and we mostly only fought and felt little affection for each other though I do rememeber feeling fragmants of happiness in the rare times we connected. Like for a few moments I’d been transported back to “the good times” but the good moments didn’t last much and we’d have another long drawn-out fight.

It seems rediculous now but when I got engaged to get married about 6 years ago, I remember telling my mom in a particularly heated moment,

“Tell Sunny that if he sheds one tear on my wedding day when I’m about to leave forever, I’ll laugh in his face!”

I also rememeber telling him in fits of rage that he wasn’t welcome on my wedding! I can’t quite forget what we had fought over that time but I also don’t want to recall it for you here. It wasn’t anything that big but it was a stupid misunderstanding, mostly on his part. As my wedding approached and reality crept closer and closer, I wished and hoped he’d realize his stupid mistake and apologise. Of course, I could have stepped up and been the bigger person in deciding to forgive and forget but it would mean admitting I’d been wrong all along which wasn’t true. I’m terribly stubborn if I’m anything especially when I know I’m right. In the end, in the very end, he did come around and I recieved a text message from him, apologising profusely, admitting his fault and persistence. At that point, my only happiness was in finally getting my brother back after such a long time! My anger had melted long before and with his apology went away the few remanants of bitterness too. I was glad I’d be able to spend the last few days in Pakistan having a good time with my oldest friend; my brother.

On my wedding day he surprised me by crying like a 2-year-old, huddled in a corner. And when he hugged me one last time, it was like he couldn’t get himself to let go. I found it oddly sweet because he and I were never the huggy-feely kind of siblings. I could probably count on my fingers the number of times we’ve hugged as adults. But it was sweet. Heart-breakingly so.

Ever since then, we’ve always been close. It could be attributed to the oceans between us but I like to think it’s more than that. It’s because we’ve both now stepped out of our comfort zones and into the big bad world and realized no matter how bad family seems on some days, it’s still the best bet you’ve got. Also, ever since he’s gotten married, he’s gained a new kind of wisdom. There are words that come out of his mouth sometimes that pleasently surprise me. However, I love him best when I see the little boy in him; when he makes one of his stupid jokes that make me laugh at the sheer dumbness of them. Or when he laughs his funny laughter that Papa used to reprimand him about.

Yes, it’s that little boy in him that I think about and awe over when I realize he’s all grown up – and about to become a father himself, inshaAllah. I have a hard time reconciling myself to that thought but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me sublimely happy for him. It’s a surreal feeling to have my little brother become a father and it sounds terribly cliched but I can’t tell you how true it is. I don’t think I’ll be there when his baby is born, inshaAllah but I know I’ll cry my eyes out with happiness and grief alike. And I’ll shop till I drop for the precious little niece/nephew.

I know I’ve written about him before but I just told you the reason why I had to write about him again today. A few days ago, he sent me a video. We used to watch it when we were little and he said he doesn’t know why he finds himself listening to this song so often. But we both knew why.

Being in Maui was wonderful but vacationing at a beach resort has some pitfalls for a scarf-wearing dame like myself. (Did I just say ‘dame’? Ahem…) Well I shouldn’t say ’some’ pitfalls, I should say one big huge one and that’s of course, when everyone else is barely wearing any clothing and one shows up in one’s halal ‘Muslim swimwear’. I go with a one piece wet-suit kind of thing and wear an elasticy dress on top to avoid the shape-defining effect.

Initially, I was very self-consious to a point where I almost decided to skip even trying out the hotels’ lovely 1 acre worth of pools. However, I really couldn’t resist the cascading waterfalls (how lovely to stand beneath them and be pelted by them!) and the water slide. Haha. So I decided to just focus on that and not worry about the many stares I will probably get. So after a while, I tuned out those WTH looks and really began to enjoy myself. My husband was a good sport and decided to wear a swimming shirt too so I wasn’t the only odd ball wearing too many clothes in the pool. In the end, it really wasn’t as bad as I’d thought; there weren’t too many people in the pool to begin with and I mostly stayed in the covered part of the pool (cuz I didn’t wanna get a tan) which attracted very few people and mostly kids passing through. The covered part of the pool was supposed to be a grotto; kind of like a cave so that was nice.

However, when we decided to take that snorkel cruise, I was a little more nervous because we’d be on a relatively small ship and we’d be interacting with other passengers. I knew I’d stick out like a sore thumb and I hate attracting any kind of attention. I’m sure you know what I mean; I don’t wanna spend my vacation answering questions about my choice of swimwear and being the unofficial ambassador of all Muslims. So when we got on the boat, I did get some double takes and “where are you froms” but a very nice thing happened to allievate my self-consiousness.

There was a lady; a Caucasian one, who wore a swim-shirt that completely covered her from the top and beneath that she wore shorts (which if you know anything about swimwear here, is way too much clothing for going into the water!). I overheard her telling another person that she wished she could have found a costume that totally covered her legs too because she hated getting tanned!  At one point, our paths crossed and she actually asked me where I got my costume from and how much she liked it! She asked me why I didn’t like getting tanned and though I’d never said that that’s why I wore it and she assumed it but it happened to be true and I told her how my skin didn’t take well to getting tanned etc. and she said she totally related because she was from Texas and absolutely hated being in the sun too long and that’s why she covered up. At this point, some other people joined in our conversation and wanted to know where I was from since I didn’t like the sun and upon being informed I was from Pakistan, the conversation turned to the weather in that part of the world and how my English was so good and do Pakistani schools teach such good English? So even though, I was once again designated the unofficial ambassador for Pakistan, it wasn’t so bad and it gave me an opportunity to do some much-needed positive projection for Pakistan. But above all, it made me comfortable with the people around me and completely eradicated my initial uneasiness about the trip.

The above experience reinstated my belief that if you have good intentions and do something for Allah’s sake then He will make it easy for you. I know many Muslims who go to these places resort to wearing clothes that help them blend in to avoid the self-consiousness I went through and I don’t judge them but I wanted to try and stay as true to myself as I possibly could and in the end I found it wasn’t that hard. I had lots of fun and because it was without compromising my beliefs, it felt all the more gratifying. AlahdmuLilah for that and yay!

The purpose of this post is to relate to you what I consider a somewhat inspirational experience and one that might help some who read it. Now what this post is not suppose to do is inspire you to suggest that I should get over myself and my hijab and that people have better stuff to think about than what I wear at the pool etc. but if you feel the urge to do just that, I want to tell you two things:

1-  You are either a guy and can’t relate so your opinion carries little weight.

2- You’ve never showed up at the beach wearing a dress on top of a fully-covering wetsuit and therefore your opinion doesn’t matter either.

And of course, this is said in the most amicable tone possible :)

When people say Maui (Hawaii) is a piece of heaven, they kid you not. It’s truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen and I have seen a little bit of the world. Haha.

It’s not just that the Island is beautiful, there’s more to it than that. There’s the “aloha” spririt; people are easy going and nice, the perpetual breeze is uplifting, the sound of the ocean is everywhere and the towering mountains are awe-inspiring. I was blown away by the versatile landscape of Maui; the expansive ocean on one side and the rugged mountains on the other. The place just captures your imagination, your heart and your soul. I absolutely did not want to come back!

By far the most wonderful thing I did there was snorkeling. I have never in my life experienced such a thing. It’s like being in another world. It’s not at all like watching it on tv; when you’re there right beside the fish and the turtles, it’s like you’re in another planet. WOW. That’s all I can say.

At this point, I have to say ONE thing. Before I went, I did a lot of research about snorkeling and the level of swimming required to be able to snorkel and 99% of the times, I read that you don’t need to know how to swim to be able to snokel. Now having been through the experience, I’ll say that it’s techically correct. You don’t actually need to know how to swim BUT.. and this is a big but.. when you know how to swim, you’re not afraid of the water, you’re not afraid when your feet don’t touch the ground and on the other hand, when you’re like me, and you’re not a great swimmer, you basically freak out when you’re floating by youself in the ocean, you think the waves will wash you away and you won’t know how to get back! So the correct answer to the question of snorkeling is, YES, YOU NEED TO KNOW HOW TO SWIM OR ELSE YOU’LL BE SO FREAKED, YOU WON’T EVEN WANNA STEP IN THE WATER.. LET ALONE STICK YOUR HEAD IN AND FORGET THE WORLD!!

So how did I manage to do it? First of all, I’m not a great swimmer, but I do swim which means sticking my head in the water and floating doesn’t scare me. However, I never go in the deep in the pool which means my feet not touching the ground does freak me out, and with that, a very nice lady named Tammy comes in. I was standing by the shore, wondering how the hell to snorkel. I was chatting with another lady who had the same fears as myself (being taken by the waves etc.) and Tammy overheard me. To make a long story short, she was super-nice and offered to take me into the ocean with her. Thanks to her, I have some terrific pictures of turtles and fish swimming right next to me. I tell you, it was so amazing, I can’t tell you! So if you ever read this, Tammy, thank you so much and I’m so sorry I could never find you again! You were just terrific!!!

Isn’t this one awesome? It was looking right at me!!)

We later took a snorkel cruise out to a famour snorkeling spot. They had life guards and all and the water was pretty calm, so I was ok there though I never did meet more turtles. Haha.

Anyways, I’m sure you all are more interested in the pictures than all my chatter so I uploaded the pictures on flickr and you can find that link on the right bottom of this page. I will post the “under water” pictures of my ocean friends later because I have to scan them. They’re from that disposable under water camera so the  quality isn’t that great but you’ll like them Well enjoy the pictures and let me know what you think! Mahalo!!

Update: I uploaded the under water ones too!!

I didn’t wish you all a happy Eid. My bad. I was a bit busy wallowing over my latest loss but that’s ok, I’m wishing you now

So Eid kinda sucked again this time because of course our religious can’t agree to have Eid on the same day in the same city. My inlaws and the rest of the family celebrated Eid on Tuesday and me and my husband celebrated Eid on Wednesday. At least we had friends to go and pray the Eid namaz with. Sigh. We later went to a friend’s house, hung out, took some pictures and then went for lunch.

By the time we got to the inlaws, it was 9pm which was ok because they didn’t have any plans anyway. We actually looked kind of dumb all dressed up. Haha.

The next day we decided to go to New York where my cousin lives. She has these two adorable sons who are just so much fun! Not that the cousin herself isn’t a sweetheart. So that was definitely fun.

We went back to the inlaws on Saturday and had dinner with them. The restaurant that we went to was actually pretty interesting. It was called The Rainforest Cafe and it was very much like a real Rain Forest. There were trees and plants every where (fake of course), there were animals of all kinds and there were water falls and even lightening. Haha. It was pretty sweet.

Vacation
So that’s that for our Eid week. Now on to the next week; we’re going to Hawaii inshaAllah on Thursday. Yay!! I’ve never really been to a beach resort before and of course, Hawaii is as beautiful as they come. We booked the trip some two months ago so we’re definitely very psyched to finally go this week. I still have to do some shopping for the trip so I’ll be busy in the next few days trying to get everything together and pack.

I’ll tell you more about the trip later but I’m really excited about it because this is the first time we’re going on a full-fledged vacation where we’re not on a budget and alhamduLilah, have reservations in a great hotel with some awesome extras thrown in and not to mention a convertible! Yay! Did I ever tell you it’s always been a dream of mine to ride/drive a convertible?? I know I could’ve rented one earlier, they’re not too expensive but I somehow didn’t get around to it and on this trip I’ll finally have a that little dream come true! haha!! We’ll also go snorkeling which I’ve always thought looks like SO much fun!  So yeah, this is gonna be very exciting and get ready for some absolutely gorgeous pictures!!!

Celebrations
Oh and I wanted to tell you that today is my fourth wedding anniversary! MashaAllah!! Four years.. actually seems a lot longer than that… haha… seems like forever!! In a good way!! So this trip is kind of our celebration and the hubby’s gift.

Last month was my birthday and guess what I got? An iPhone!! I’ve wanted it for such a long time but the only problem besides the ooper-expensive plan ($75/month) was that I had Sprint and of course, iPhone is only available on AT & T and I probably wouldn’t have gotten it myself but the hubby went and got it for me. Yay! I absolutely love my new phone!! It’s the best phone I’ve had since I moved to America.. I mean back home we have great phones, Asia and Eurpoe are way ahead of America when it comes to the phone technology so I was so sick of all the pathetic phones and now finally, I have the best one of em all!!

Yeah so those are all the updates for now. Later then

And here I lay to rest another friendship.

But proper respect should be paid before the actual burial. Or should it. Is it even worth that?

To try and recall all the memories, the good memories, the time spent believing this was forever; why? Why put myself through more anguish than you already have. No I’ll pass on that.

As I put a final nail in the coffin of our friendship, I realize something; there are many headstones beside this new one that just grew in my heart, but there is something a little different about this one. For on this one is not just the name of our friendship but every other that I was going to have in my life. Yes, with the leave of this relationship, died the hope of any other I’d ever have.

Yes, I’m officially done with friendship. I’m just stupid and naive to not do this sooner like everyone else.

For once in my life, I’m not going to blame myself for this casulty. Because for once in my life, I’m 100% sure that I had nothing to do with killing this one. For once in my life, I know I was nothing but good to you. This is good though, because it proves that for most people, love is not enough or even what they need. Why, all this time, was I expending so much energy loving people who’d rather not “complicate” things with love?

How foolish I was. How trusting.

Today, for the first time, I feel grown up. I’ve learnt an important lesson in life today. Today, I’ve had to severe a part of myself that I’d considered sacred. From today, I’ll never be the Mari I was.

There will be “friends”, yes but they will be only a little more dispensable than the furniture in my living room. They will adorn my life and fill my days but my heart will remain empty.

Never ever again will anyone see the inside of this heart. What was good and beautiful once is ugly and sordid now and for that, you will stay away. And that’s the only forever I will associate with friendship again.

…when nothing I tell myself will alleviate the dull ache in my heart.  When all I want is to just fly across all those cruel miles in the blink of an eye. When all the festivities here seem painfully fabricated and forced. When I can’t shut out those images of happy pre-Eid times when I went shopping with my family; trying to find the perfect outfit; Papa and Mama so earnest about me getting exactly what I wanted, no matter what the cost. And no matter if we spend the entire night scouring each every store in Islamabad (and Pindi). Ah, that just made me smile.

Memories.

Sigh.

I’m just gonna come out and cry right now.. ok? Haven’t done it in a while, anyway. Been too busy being brave n all. So excuse me while I feel sorry for myself and have a darn good cry.

*Ten minutes later*

Alright. Done. Still feel crappy. Oh well.

Well, you have a good Eid, anyway and who knows, perhaps I will too, inshaAllah. God is kind. Very kind. He listens.

Lately, I’ve stowed away Pakistan and everything related to it in a part of my brain that is rarely accessed. I’ve discovered that I can’t talk to most people here about my true feelings for the country that raised me. If I want to be accepted, I have to keep my love for Pakistan at bay. However, it is always there, tucked away safely in the deep recesses of my heart. And from time to time, I like to remember why I love this land of heathens so much. Why greener pastures have not won me over. Here’s a story that might give you a glimpse to the answers you so searchingly ask.

It’s a beautiful winter afternoon in Feburary 2003. I’m enjoying a free period in my Univeristy with my friends. It’s a day like any other day in my carefree life. Until I see my brother approach me with a grave look and pull me aside. What he tells me stuns me into silence for a moment. I can’t believe it. This can’t be! I suddenly realize I have to be the bearer of this terrible news to a darling friend of mine. How will she take this? What will she do? This is horrible!

I stall for a while but eventually realize I have to do this. So I seek out Samna. She’s having a class upstairs. I gingerly knock on her classroom door and ask her professor if I can please talk to her. He gruffly tell me, after class. I’m forced to walk inside and whisper the terrible news. The shock registers on the Professor’s face. He abruptly tells Samna she is excused. Samna has witnessed the change of expression and tone on her Professor’s face. She knows something awful has happened. She grabs her stuff and rushes out of the room with me.

“What is it, Mari? What happened?”, she says.

I can’t get the words out. I don’t know what to say.

“Is it Papa?”, her eyes implore for an explanation. ”Did he have a heart attack? Is he gonna be ok?”

Tears well up in my eyes and I choke on the words. I can’t say it. I can’t.

*********** Rewind 7 years *********

I hate walking outside alone. I wish I had a friend who lived close by and we could walk together and have delicious gossip-sessions. Oh, who’s that? It’s the girl from next door. She looks terribly guarded. Why couldn’t she have been friendlier? She’s about my age, we could have been great friends. Our dads hang out often, so do our moms, come to think of it, so do our siblings, why can’t she and I connect? What’s her name anyway?

Oh here she comes. What do you know! Is she coming to talk to me? Delivering a message for her mom, perhaps?

“You’re Mari, Neelum aunty’s daughter?”, she says.

“Yes, and you are…?”

“Samna, your next door neighbor.”

“Ah yes, I’m aware. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here. You mind if I join you in your stroll?”

“Oh! Not at all!”

And thus began a long and wonderful friendship that would endure the trying tests of time and much more. A friendship that would have many beautiful moments, and not a single one of regret. Incidentally, she had three siblings just like myself; a brother an year younger than herself who was friends with my brother, another brother who was again friends with my other brother and our two sisters were the first to befriend eachother and that too, when they were barely out of diapers.

It was simply our biggest joy that we were next door neighbors; there was no end of fun and mischief as all us siblings contrived to make the most of it. Half the time we were living out of each other’s homes. The other half time, we were planning daily excursions around the complex (we lived in a PAF complex). Our parents were forever comparing notes over our mischieves. It was simply grand.

The best part was that our parents’ were best friends because it meant every time we visited the others’ home, our parents were so engrossed in their adult chatter that they paid little attention to our antics. Even when we were no longer neighbors, the friendship only strengthened and Samna’s family would visit us often and when my Dad left the Air Force and started his own business, Samna’s dad and my dad became business partners. Needless to say, they were more like our family than anything else.

****** Fast Forward to 20th Feb, 2003*****

Samna looks at me questioningly. By now, she knows something is horribly wrong.

“Mari, tell me what it is??!! If it’s Papa’s heart, he’ll be ok, he alreay had one bypass and survived.. he’ll be ok..”

I have to stop her and say the dreaded words, “Samna, honey…… he won’t be.. he won’t be ok….. he died… in a plane crash this morning!!!!!!”

The color drains from her face and she whimpers like a wounded kitten that it can’t be her Papa. No, not him. Not her beloved father. But it’s true and as she falls in my arms, my heart breaks for her and for the wonderful man her father was.

The Fokker F27, S. no. J-10254, crashed into the Cherat mountain range in a remote region of northwestern Pakistan near Kohat, killing all 17 people on board. The control tower at the Kohat Air Base lost contact with the Fokker-27 turboprop aircraft shortly before it was to land. The plane had been airborne for only 17 minutes. Those killed were identified as Air Chief Marshall Pakistan Air Force Musaf Ali Mir, Messers Musaf Ali Meer Begum Balqees, Air Vice Marshall Abdul Razzak, Air Vice Marshall M. Saleem A. Nawaz, Air Commodore Syed Javeed Sabir, Air Commodore Rizwan-ullah Khan, Group Captain Aftan Chema, Wing Commander Syed Tabasum Abbass, Squadron Leader and Plane Captain Ahmed, Squadron Leader and Assistant Pilot Abdul-Rab, Squadron Leader Mumtaz Kiyani, Senior Technician Khan Mohammad, Senior Technician Ashraf, Senior Technician Ghaznaffar, CPL Technician Fiyyaz, CPL Technician Khoosh Qada Shah and CPL Technician Amjad Shamil. The Air Force chief was on his way to Kohat from Islamabad to conduct an annual inspection of the air base when the plane went down.

This is where my story ends for no words could do justice to the immense heartache that followed this incidence. But I can tell you that I did not budge for the next two weeks from my friend’s side. I stayed up with her all the nights that she cried herself to sleep. I forced her to eat a morsel of food each day so she wouldn’t starve herself to a skeleton. I consoled her mother and begged her to shed a tear and not be so frightfully quiet. I held my friend firmly as they put her father’s body in a coffin and she tried to stop them. I stood by the grave as the officers of Pakistan Air Force paid this man a beautiful tribute before lowering him to his final resting place. And I can never, ever forget those images or the pain I felt so profoundly for my friend and her family.

Amidst all this anguish was the one hope that this man had died wearing the Uniform; the Uniform that represented his devotion to his country. That he was such a revered man in the Force he served. That he had an entire wall adorned with medals that were a tesatment to his skill and bravey.

I could never stop thinking that this could have been my father. I never stopped thinking that my father wears this same Uniform and stands tall for this country. And how fondly, how easily he says, if I could lay my life for my country, I’d feel I’d served my purpose.

And the one last thing that I can never forget is my friend’s mother; her reslience, her fortitude and her immense strength. When I asked her why she hadn’t shed a single tear in a week of her husband’s death. She said to me,

“Beta, his heart was weak yet he never feared dying from it. He always told me to be strong if his heart failed him but in the end, it wasn’t his heart that took him, it was his country. That must have caused him great joy. There is no need to cry…”