Wish I could share my music with my #gdad. He loved literature and would randomly quote poetry in urdu, punjabi and farsi. If only I got a few more years with him, you know?

That Deewangi song from Om Shanti Om? It goes “aql o hosh nami danam, hum hain dil hai aur jaanam”. We asked him what the farsi meant, and he translated it. I was like ._. so mindblown na. My wholesome nana abu (:

He told me his nana (my great great granddad = gggdad) passed away when gdad was only 15/16, and gdad would thank God for those years my gggdad.

My beloved passed away when I was like 14.

HE WAS MY BIGGEST CHEERLEADER. My sweetest victories are from when he was there, we celebrated my sports trophies, class quizzes, exams, competition wins. Every little thing. I swear.

He didn’t even live to see my first O’level grade. I was in 9th grade, randomly registered for Economics as an extra subject. When my Statement of Entry/exam confirmation came in mail or when I was registering, he secretly asked me if I was sure about it.

Kyunke it was a big deal. Nobody at school knew, people in Peshawarr didn’t take extra subs, I prepped on my own, it was my first O’level, I had seemingly registered on whim, the exam was going to be in Islamabad.

So he asked if I was prepared for the challenge, and I said yes. I don’t know what month this was. Early 2010 I guess. Life is weird. He fell so ill and passed away in March.

He didn’t live to see my first A*. He didn’t hear me play a single tune on the piano. Not a single note. :(

But he also skipped some painful things. Maybe God didn’t want to break his heart.

Yar I just miss him. And everything about him. When I would fall asleep on the carpet and moments later wake up to his warm shawl over me. I felt loved yet so guilty because he got up because of me. His body was very fragile. Friendly grey eyes, silver hair, bruised shaky hands.

He was everyone’s friend. And the few who chose not to be, they were at a huge loss.

Everyone who met him or talked to him, loved him. Once my teacher called home, I had no idea until the next day when she asked me about him. :) He loved fruit, and all the fruit vendors loved him. He also knew how to fix everything! The geyser, electronics, plumbing, sab kuch.

He made the best ice cream, he made the best French fries. I am very lucky God gave me 14 years with him.

Sometimes he would accompany the driver to pick me up from school. And I wouldn’t know, I’d be a bit late and I felt so guilty because I had no idea nana abu was waiting in the car. I would apologize and he would act like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Though it was.

Summers are very hot. The car was an uncomfortable Suzuki Khyber and did not have AC.

His general health was very fragile. He had Parkinson’s because he had fallen off a building as a teenager. His lungs were very weak. Walking from the lawn back to his room, it would take time. I used to support him too. And then he would have to take breathing medication through

a nebulizer, inhaler or oxygen through an oxygen cylinder. In every breath he would take God’s name. Particularly when his breathing would become labored. We would run to him from any corner of the house to help out with oxygen.

Back in 2005, when a lot of earthquakes happened, during a big one, he was in the bathroom. My mom was helping him get to the main door of the house. And I was there, telling them to please hurry. He did sajda and prayed. I was slightly miffed. But this guy knew the real deal.

Once he was in the lawn chatting with his old friend Ehsaan sahab. I was being foolish on my own trying to do a tossing trick with my chappal. Somehow it took a weird af trajectory & hit him. I was so ashamed, apologized profusely. He didn’t even consider it to be a thing.

We always had huge stocks of our fave snacks, ice creams, juices etc in the pantry. Always had tonnes of stationery. Because of him! He was extremely organized. I used to be extremely organized. Once my teacher opened my backpack because she wanted to return my sharpener or sth

she’d borrowed, and she was so astonished, she kept telling my mum at a parent teacher meeting how organized my backpack was.

Ofc no human is perfect. My gdad had some issues like a hot temper sometimes etc. But he was my jaan, no one is perfect. He was so giving. Whenever someone complimented his generosity, he refused to take credit and called himself a postman of God.

He was a huge fan of KBC, he loved knowledge. He also loved Toshi from Star Voice of India, because Toshi was humble, hardworking and believed in Allah. We used to collectively pray for Toshi to win. And listened to judges’ comments so attentively.

I can never be a friend of anyone who chose not to be my nana abu’s friend. Or made him sad. Or mistreated him. Or said mean things to/about him.

By profession, way before he became my gdad, he used to be an income tax officer. He had work in difficult areas of Bannu etc too. And if he’d go to someone’s place for tax, and found out that it was some lady who couldn’t afford it etc, he would pay out of his own pocket.

A few days before Pak came into being, he was the first from the family, at the age of 16, to go to Peshawarr. And he was lost. Then when the family came, they found him through radio broadcast.

When the warr with our neighboring country happened, they covered all the windows of their house with black paper and dug trenches in their lawn. They dug trenches for the mohalla as well. And people took refuge there when the warr sirens went off.

He loved using his typewriter. I hope we still have it so I can sample the sounds from it :) and he had a radio with a dark brown casing. His handwriting was pretty shaky and slow because of his Parkinson’s tremors. He was so interesting. I have so many questions for him.

I believe afterlife mein aagay koi scene hoga where we meet and share stories and I get to celebrate every little good thing that happened after him, with him. :) We will laugh and eat sweet mangoes together iA.

He had the best eating etiquette. Extremely neat, respectful, clean. He was big into homeopathy. He and his friends used to exchange books on theology, literature, religious texts etc.

Once at school my brother learned the phrase “pay respect to get respect”. Gdad made a motto out of it and would put stress on it. Once he asked me to help spell out the word “university” heheh. He loved that I was good at math. Once my mom wanted to calculate she couldn’t figure

out how. I cross-multiplied. She was like :o and mentioned it to nana abu and nana abu asked me to “teach” him heheheh. I used to weave bracelets and cute jewelry, he made sure there was enough light on my writing table.

I used to pretend to teach an imaginary class on a blackboard (and then whiteboard), as I myself studied. He made sure I never ran out of chalk, and that the whiteboard was at the right level. We have family friends in furniture business. He discussed with them a mechanism for

holding the whiteboard up. Asked me to confirm the level “koi diqqat tou nahi mehsus ho rahi?” I didn’t know the meaning of diqqat cuz I was tiny. But I understood so just to be sure, I replied “nahi koi mushkil nahi feel ho rahi” or sth.

I even used to teach the house help. Who were much older than me. But I wanted them to learn what I knew. Later one of them advanced to a new class and started studying the English alphabet and he was quite happy cuz he already knew some things from what I had taught him :)

He had a strong stance against food wastage, and would eat the worst fruit on the plate, after removing the bad part. My mom being a doctor would try to stop him, but he never listened.

When he became very ill, he used to go for dialysis. I was studying Biology and preparing for a school exam. I asked my mom if she could revise the kidney chapter with me. It had a brief mention of dialysis.. I hadn’t thought it through. My mom’s voice got shaky when we got to

that part & she asked my sister if she cud help me revise. Once they admitted him. The nurses were trying to make a fuss about visitor hours. My mom was with him. My gran & I had come to visit. I don’t like hospitals. It was so difficult to fight back tears, to see him like that.

My brother and I were in the guest room one time. The computer was there. I was studying for exams. My mom came in, she didn’t look like my mom, she looked like a very sad daughter. And she stared at the floor and told us gdad was so ill and soon this was it. But he

would stop being in pain.

... We were just waiting for him to slip away?

You know, I don’t use the word hate because it is a strong word. But that moment made me realize how helpless I was. And thus, the only thing I have ever hated is helplessness.

I hate helplessness.

He used to be a chain smoker. Which led to severe health complications. Then he was treated. He lived with a fragile body for more than a decade. And then fell severely ill again.

Whenever I see someone I care about smoke, I want to hug them very tightly so it becomes impossible for them to take another puff. I try to talk them out of it.

One time a loved one asked me to get them a lighter. One time a pack of cigarettes. I tried to talk them out of it, rebelled a bit, yet I got them those items in the end. It hurt. But I wanted to help them quit smoking in the long term. I pray that they do.

Anyway, like I said, I am grateful for my 14 years with gdad. In this life, everything is transient.

I don’t know how anyone can be as wholesome and loving as my gdad. And I guess generally gdads are awesome, so that makes sense.

This thread started with me wishing I could share compositions with my gdad and ask him for feedback.

Instead, pulled an all nighter to write these things down because I never want to forget any of my memories with him. Love you, nana abu.