GOODBYE TAYA GEE NOOR!

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'.

Mahtab Bashir

mahtabbashir@gmail.com

0333 53 56 248 

Islamabad

There’s an old saying: "When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground." This truth struck me on the midnight of December 13-14, as I was preparing for a new day when a call from my sister in Lahore delivered the heartbreaking news of Taya Gee's passing.

My father, in particular, was taken aback, as Taya Noor Hussain, was a vibrant, healthy man with a steadfast love for walking. At nearly 80 years old, he was lean but sharp-witted, often sharing his blunt yet insightful thoughts with those around him.

With the iron in my hand, I had been planning my day, which included a final review of my notes for my first exam of M.Sc. Mass Communication the following day and others. However, that brief phone call shattered my plans and altered a lot.

Noor Hussain, Taya Gee, or Bau Noor as we call him, a chronic bachelor, was a true storyteller, brimming with historical anecdotes. His tales of Islamic and political history, along with his personal experiences, created unforgettable moments.

As I grow up in F-6/4, Islamabad—where I was born—I could almost see Taya Gee wandering through the house. He loved to spend time in the inner courtyard or the outer garden, the very places where we played as children. He had a disdain for cricket, not because it distracted schoolboys from their studies, but because it damaged the plants he had nurtured in those spaces. I recall a time when one of our cousin Ishtiaq from Lahore come along and while playing cricket in courtyard, Taya Noor’s patience was truly tested, and in a fit of anger, he brandished a long dagger, sending us young cricket enthusiasts fleeing in terror. The guest cousin sought shelter by hiding on the balcony of a connected annexe.

Taya Gee had a strong fondness for shopping, especially at the Landa Bazaar in Islamabad. I recall, as a young man, feeling a bit intimidated by the journey from F-6/4 to G-6 CDA Bazaar, but Taya Gee, being older, would swiftly make the trip. He enjoyed visiting that weekly bazaar so much that if we needed something like coriander or green chilies, he would choose to walk there to get it.

His favorite purchases included T-shirts during the summer and warm clothing in the fall. When we relocated from Sector F-6/4 to I-10/2 in 2000, it was a difficult experience for me to leave the serene and upscale environment of F-6/4 for the underdeveloped area of I-10/2, where the residents were not as refined as those in F-6. However, for Taya Gee, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as he found joy in exploring the nearby Sabzi Mandi, just a few steps from our home.

A passionate fan of WWF wrestling, Taya Noor was also heavily involved in the country's political scene. A strong supporter of the Muslim League (N), he would express his frustration immediately upon seeing a picture of Asif Zardari in the newspaper or on television news.

I fondly recall a time when Taya Gee underwent eye surgery in a local Lahore hospital, and I had the privilege of being his attendant for two nights. After the operation, he would often sleep on the side of the eye that had been treated. I anxiously monitored his movements throughout the night, and when he got up to use the restroom, I seized the opportunity to advise him to sleep on the opposite side. He never took my advice until I warned him, “Taya Gee, the doctor said if you sleep on that side, you won’t be able to see after the bandage is removed.” He was so frightened that he never dared to sleep the wrong way again.

Over the years, Taya Gee chose to live in Lahore, believing it to be a city full of life, while he referred to Islamabad as a place for "Pahari" people—his term for the more reserved residents.

During my college days, I distinctly remember asking Taya Gee to show me some historical sites in Lahore. We spent an entire day visiting Badshahi Mosque, Minar-e-Pakistan, and Shahi Qila, walking from our home to each location. By the time I returned to bed that night, my feet were blistered and sore, yet Taya Gee, despite his age, showed no signs of fatigue. It was a wonderful day, and I am grateful to him for that experience.

In our last meeting at Lahore, he gifted me several T-shirts for undergarments. Although I rarely wore them, I never declined to take them with me. He would always send his regards to my father, saying, “Give my salam to Haji and tell him I’m not feeling well; I’ll be a guest for a few days.” I had taken this message lightly for years, but this time, Taya Gee’s words carried a weight I hadn’t anticipated—he was saying goodbye. He was laid to rest on Tuesday, December 14, 2010, in Lahore.

With the wisdom of the saying, “If you refuse to take an elder's advice, you will walk the whole day,” Taya Noor Husain left us to navigate this long journey without him.

Rest in Peace Taya Gee!