A page of my diary
'He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man'.
By Mahtab Bashir
Islamabad
It is an old maxim "When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground." This is what I’ve realised on a midnight of (December 13-14) while pressing my clothes to kick off my brand new day & a call from my sister from Lahore broke the news of sad demise of my Taya Gee via telephone.
We in particular my father was stunned as Taya gee was healthy smart man with a die-hard habit of walking. He was lean looking man with age touching 80 years. He was sharp, witty and sometime blunt character with pearls of wisdom comes out of his mouth quite frequently.
With the iron in my hand I was planning to manage my next whole day starting with an anticipated thoughts of going to a Photographer shop to have new photograph as requested by my office. I had also intended to get my hands on my notes as it was the last night for preparing for my first exam of M. Sc Mass Communication on the next day.
The brief little telephonic message distorted my day’s schedule in a shorter run and my life’s in a great deal.
A chronic bachelor as Noor Hussain aka Taya Gee was - used to be a chatterbox with a lot of history in his head. With sharing the anecdotes of Islamic and political history, and from his own experiences he made the moments to remember all the time.
Soon after I took my senses at home in F-6/4, Islamabad, where I was born- I watched Taya Gee hovering around in our home. His favourite places were either to spend time in Inner compound or the outer garden, the places where we used to play a lot. He hates cricket not because it wasted the precious time of school or college going boys but it spoiled the flora, foliage and vegetation he planted at both spots. I remember, sometime he got furious and I witnessed the day when Taya Gee’s patience was checked- he brought out a long dagger in his hand & we all young cricket fanatics ran away.
Besides, he loves to shop and that too from Landa bazaar of Islamabad. Being a little fellow, I remember the distance from F-6/4 to G-6 CDA bazaar was too much but Taya Gee with his brisk walk covered the distance as many times as any of us said him to bring it from nearby market- and instead of going to nearest market he opted for Jumma Bazar (as it was named on those days).
While visiting Lunda, his favourite stuff to buy were - tea shirts in summer and woolies and winter sheets in fall seasons.
When we left F-6/4 and switched to I-10/2, it was bitterest experience for me to leaving posh area where I was born and hailed since mid 70’s when my parents came to federal capital. On the other hand, Taya Gee took it a blessing in disguise, as Sabzi Mandi now was his picking spot.
Taya Gee was a keen watcher of WWF Wrestling and took keen interest in political activities in the country. He was a staunch Mulsim Leagui NOON and as soon as he saw the picture of President Zardari he started using the same language like the text messages about President Zardari we frequently received.
Recalling old days with him, when Taya gee was operated at a local hospital in Lahore for his eye sight, I chanced to be with him as an attendant for two nights. While sliding and shifting on the bed right after the operation he slept the right side- the same eye he got operated. I was impatiently having an eye on his shifting and slides whole night. When he got up to use washroom I got the opportunity to admonish him to use the opposite slide while sleeping. He never did. Ultimately, I told him, “Taya Gee- doctor sab hunay ay san tay menu kehndy san agar ay osy taraf sootay jeri taraf di akh da operation hoya ay- tay fair Patti khulan day bad wi aina nu nazar nahi ana”. He got terrified and never dare to slept wrong way afterwards.
Since yesteryears, he opted to reside in Lahore as far him Lahore is full of life while Islamabad is a city of Paharai people- as he use this word ‘Aithay tay saray Parahiay he rehndy nay’.
In my college days, I distinctly remember I requested Taya Gee to bring him show some historical places, and the day both of us spend at Badshahi Mosque, Minar-e-Pakistan, and Shahi Qila. And that too by foot from home to those places. When at night I touched my bed, I was exhausted with blisters down my feet but Taya Gee being the elder man didn’t show any sign of fatigue. I was a good day Taya Gee- thanks for making my day!
Recalling my last meeting with Taya Gee at Lahore residence, he as usual gifted me a number of tea shirts for inner garments. Though I hardly use them but I never refused to carry them with me. “Haji (my father) nu mera salam dain- tay ohnu kaheen meri tabiyat theek nahi rehndi hun- may kujh din da mehmaan aan’ the message I used to collect from Taya Gee since many years while I visited him. I took this message as lightly as I’m doing it for years! But this time Taya Gee not faltered to his words and committed said that … time is over!
He is buried on Tuesday, December 14, 2010 in Lahore.
With the theme ‘If you refuse the elder's advice you will walk the whole day’- Taya Gee made us alone in a labyrinth of this long journey!
Rest in Peace Taya Gee!
Pity de nation dat is full of beliefs and empty of religion. Pity de nation dat wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine dat flows not from its own wine-press. Pity de nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking. Pity de nation whose sages r dumb wid years and whose strong men r yet in the cradle. Pity de nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.-KG
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1 comment:
People do not die when they leave this world, they die when we put them out of our memories, forget their words and leave them behind somewhere but in this case it seems he is going to live on in your and his loved ones' memories.
For it is rightly said that.. Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
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