It has been six months to the Bhoja plane crash. Six months to loosing you, six months of thinking about the uselessness of everything yet not being able to let go of life, six months of pain, six months of wishing you were here with us. A lot happened in these six months; Ramadan, Eid, a wedding, a family get together and what not, but there always is an empty place, sometimes physically, always in the hearts.
You know what I have to teach about public relation requirements for various organizations including airlines, and I can’t bring myself to discuss it with my students. I have been trying to ignore the topic for days. Can I skip it? Can I just not teach that topic? I have been trying to answer this question for days, and haven’t come to an answer. It’s pain versus responsibility, and it’s a hard choice.
Whenever I go to your home, I see your smiling picture, the one from your convocation, and I pray that you are smiling up there in the heavens too, the same content, happy smile. Girl, you are missed and remembered a lot. You were a quiet person, and your quiet presence is missing in our lives.
I still visit your facebook page. I still lookup your number stored in my cell phone. I see your name in my messenger’s friend list, your name being always offline.I am actually talking to you right now, knowing I am never going to get a reply.
May Allah reward you with the best of His blessings. May He grant you the best of the places in Jannat-ul-Firdous. May He accept all your good deeds, and neglect any negligence and shortcomings as if they never existed. Ameen.