It is interesting how we think of changing numbers on calendar as “new”. We are not ready to actually reflect and critically analyze what we are leaving behind. New is never a smooth transition from one day to another or an occasion of hyper celebration, rather it demands rupture. It is apocalyptic where new arises from the end. One needs to die in order to start a new life. If we keep on with our anthropocentric living style that we have adopted, I am afraid if we have actually entered a new year.
If there is even a slight chance at getting something which makes you happy, risk it. Because life is too short and happiness is too rare.
Grandpa’s tale
#sad #crash #love #winter #asia #pakistan
It was a chilling night of January. Mr.Ahmed was surrounded by his grandchildren who were listening to him with grave concentration. “It was mid September of 2016, when I received a call from my mother telling me about Sarah. Telling me that Sarah’s parents have agreed to give me her hand.” Mr. Ahmed started the story with a heavy breath.
He continued “I was coming home after completion of my higher studies in Ontario, Canada. Sarah was a beautiful girl, highly educated and well mannered. She had just completed her MPhil degree in biotechnology from a prestigious university of Pakistan. The day came and there i was, on the plane to Pakistan. As it was supposed to be a desi Shadi, everyone was waiting for me at home, they were distributing invitation cards as the day of matrimony was a week away.The reason behind this short noticed merriage was that I had only 3 weeks break from my work. Preparations were at their climax. Week passed in a blink of an eye and the day came. As a typical Pakistani merriage, the function lasted for 3 days and at last ended up on fireworks.
Good times fly. Finally, i was on the plane back to Canada and i was missing Sarah already. She wanted me to stay a little longer but this time, odds were against her. I was back to my busy routine but I used to call her in my spare moments. Meanwhile, I was also working on her visa and work permit in Canada. Two months later her visa was approved and she was on cloud nine and started packing up with excitement. She had a flight from Chitral to Islamabad on PIA flight-661 on 7th December, 2016. Before getting onboard she texted me saying “distance between us is going to be wrapped up now.”
I noted down the time as I knew how much it takes to reach Islamabad from Chitral. A friend of mine and her wife were at Islamabad International Airport to receive her.
Time passed over and I was waiting for her text. I started calling her but found her number swithed off. Restlessly, I opened my Facebook and saw some friends posting about a plan crash. I was petrified and called my friend at the airport. I can still hear his voice in my years saying that “i am sorry Ahmed, the plane has crashed“” Saying this tears came down rolling on Grandpa’s cheeks.
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He says... 