It has been 20 days since you left us for heavenly abode. We are unable to come to terms with your sudden death. Our tears have dried up. We feel our heart sink to the depth of hell. The silence of your absence is deafening.
IT HAS been 20 days since you left us for the heavenly abode. We are unable to come to terms with your sudden death. Our tears have dried up. We feel our heart sink to the depth of hell. The silence of your absence is deafening. How we long to see your radiant face again!
It’s hard to make ourselves believe that you will never come back from the heavens. You were a wonderful father, a dutiful son, a loving brother and of course a caring uncle. Your loss has left us completely shattered and devastated.
I still remember my school days when you would walk a distance of four kilometers everyday to bring us tiffin from home.
You were a guide, a mentor and a source of inspiration for us all in terms of piety and righteousness.
I will never forget those five days I spent with you in Ward no 11 of SMHS hospital. I am sorry for not having been able to fulfill your last wish of getting you a hookah, you were virtually married to!
It’s hard to forget the conversation we had en route back home after discharged from the hospital. I still feel your presence whenever I sit in the car.
It’s hard to forget the pain you endured at the fag end of your life. We did our best to alleviate your pain, but all in vain. They say, death is the best healer. Indeed, it is. In death you found the eternal solace.
I salute your tolerance. You never complained about the pain. Even during the last days of your life, when you were going through terrible pain, you preferred not to tell us; instead you would bite your dry lips and rub your abdomen to ease away your pain.
We all miss you. I am sure you are looking down on us from the heavens. I wonder what it is like up there, but I know in my heart of hearts that you are doing good! I want you to know that I love you.
“The dead they sleep a long, long sleep;
The dead they rest, and their rest is deep;
The dead have peace, but the living weep.” Samuel Hoffenstein