Stories about father

How my heart pines for home

It was barely six months ago that, my wife and I walked through the immigration desk at Karachi’s Jinnah Terminal en route to Europe. Having moved out of Pakistan almost four years ago in search of a better future, I am now used to the whole drill. The pre-travel jitters are all but drowned by the overwhelming emotions of having to leave your folks behind, yet the prospect of getting away from all the insecurities that plague this country fill you with a strange vigour. Strange because this vigour does not last long and within a few months you start to ...

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My father: Absent but always present

My father, who is hardly ever here, Lines his walls with books As though to prevent them from falling in. The mismatched clothes he likes to wear, They smell like thoughts Of pine trees and topological functions. My father, whenever he is here, Lends me his helpless traits. And I shelve them obediently, my walls mere imitations. My father, when he goes anywhere, Carries his roots with him In the tilt of his head, in the clearing of his throat. My father, who is never here, Gifted me his hands – But not what was in ...

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Thanks for making me who I am, dad

I was gently awoken by the stroke of a warm and affectionate hand on my forehead. I felt someone remove my glasses and put away the book I was reading. As I tried to get up while half asleep, I heard my father say: “Beta, you should avoid staying up so late. It’s not good for your health.” This same man, while crossing the road today, held my hand reassuringly. However, his hands are different now, the wrinkles and veins are more prominent – he is getting old. Even though they show a mark of the years that we’ve left behind us, ...

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Baba, you will always be my hero

I will never forget that first day of Eidul Azha in 2009. My father had taken my brother and I to the race course graveyard to offer  Surah-e-Fateha at our grandmother’s grave. After offering prayers, my father stood tall and said: “Remember boys everyone has to come here one day, so do good and live a pious life.” Baba wasn’t one to not practice what he preached, and a pious life is what he did live. He endeavoured to do everything the best and the right way. My father was a great man. He is alive and always will be as he ...

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Thank you God for giving me my father

A father is role model for his children. He is their first hero and their first inspiration. My father was also my role model; I always wanted to emulate him in whatever manner I could. Whether this meant adopting his dressing style, the way he ate, socialised with other people or the way he treated his children and other family members – I wanted to be exactly like him. Ziauddin Khan left this world on February 26, 1995 at 10:05pm; he was my father. Heartbroken and disillusioned, I stood by his bedside when his doctor informed me about his demise. My world ...

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How to make it big in Pakistan

There are many mysteries surrounding the rich and elite in Pakistan. These mysteries  have haunted us since time immemorial; how do they do it? How did that man make it so big, so fast being, so young? Where does he work? How can he be so rich without a job? These questions haunted me during the day and gave me nightmares at night, and all I could keep thinking to myself was ‘but how?’ I am pleased to tell you all that I have finally cracked the code; I have all the answers now! Reading newspapers, court orders, precedents and online research ...

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Stop the war

I dreamt of a destructed land last night, Walked around and met a wounded child, She was lying in between dead people, It was the oasis last night, she said in a pained voice, I was playing with my brother before he died, My father and mother kissed me before they were murdered beside me, I had a brother like you, but he was killed last night, Such is the case with all the girls after the oasis converted into a graveyard, I walked ahead and met a crying mother, We were sleeping last night, she said frantically, I had a son like you; he was killed by people ...

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Salma’s story: Molested by her guardian

I first came across her on a Facebook forum in August 2010. The two of us were quite vocal on a forum made for the Sialkot brothers who had been publicly lynched during Ramazan that year. We often bumped into each other online and shared common passions and eventually decided to become “Facebook friends”. Hailing from an educated, upper middle class family, she seemed to be an ordinary 20-year-old girl. However, I soon began to realise that all was not truly well on my new friend’s side. The seemingly normal girl appeared to be a little – well, different. It looked to me as ...

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Why Mother’s Day matters

I have never been a great proponent of the concept of Mother’s Day – or even Father’s Day. Dedicating days to celebrating every member of the family is not something that made sense to me – after all, you already had birthdays and anniversaries, right? Anything in excess of this is clearly a ploy by all those card-printing companies nagging at your guilt to spend more of your money and boost their sales As I have grown older I have come to realise the value of these days, randomly allocated to a day in the year to celebrate our parents’ contributions ...

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The rat race of KGS admissions

Mrs A remembers it as ‘the most horrible week of my life.’ She cried frequently; she had trouble sleeping at night; she had to leave a party early because she felt like she ‘couldn’t breathe’. And too many of her hours were filled with ‘whys’; why did this happen to her? Why? A child stricken with life-threatening illness? The collapse of the family business? The death of a beloved parent?  No, the darkest week of Mrs A’s life came two weeks ago when her daughter was rejected admission in the nursery at Karachi Grammar School (KGS). It’s hard to imagine writing such a ...

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