Afraz Jabeen

Afraz Jabeen

Afraz jabeen, a lecturer by profession. She has edited LCWU university magazine (2013-2015), she is an amateur writer. Her area of interest is existentialism, sufism, crime fiction.
Afraz Jabeen

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Death is an inevitable reality.  It can come anytime anywhere anyplace regardless of caste, color, creed, Age and gender. No one comes in this world with his own consent and he can’t go unless and until “Supreme Being” called him.

A few days back, my next door neighbor Uncle Sallahudin whom everyone used to call “mocho wala baba” died. The sole earner of the family died: his daughters were weeping bitterly, his widow was looking at his dead body with a question in her wet eyes. His ten year old son was sitting in mardana (male gathering). His eyes were depicting the devastated state of his heart and mind.

Believe me! The walls of the house were even dejected. In this heart-breaking atmosphere, suddenly my attention moved towards the people who were coming for attending the funeral. As I shifted my eyes from dead body to people, the world was completely different.  All the people were in branded clothes, having branded bags, their ears and hands were full of gold jewelry.  I even saw a young girl who was trying her best to maintain the straightness of her hair.  For one moment, I completely forgot that I was in a funeral. Everyone was decorated from head to toe. In this bewildered state, I left the room and came in courtyard. I sat on an empty chair, closed my eyes to digest all these colors in a house which was mourning on his loss of colors. Right on my back I heard women’s chattering:

Yeh neeli qamez wali ki shadi hogai?

(This blue shirt girl got married?)

Acha suno : Zahida ki talaq ka kiya bana?

(Listen : What about Zahida’s divorce?)

I opened my eyes and tried to look other way. Two women were discussing:

Bahi Sallahudin bohat achy thay. Bary naik admi thay. Yeh choti wali beti hai na.? is ki naak kis per chali gai.

(Brother Salludin was a good man. He was a noble man. His young daughter? How bad her nose is?)

Hahah ‘ is larki ko dekhlo Ahmad kay liye,’

Nahi moti hai.

Laughter: (‘Look this girl for Ahmad’ No, She is fat).

No one was grieving on the dead soul. But this death gave them a chance to share their melodramatic stories, an opportunity to show their branded clothes, accessories. An unplanned chance for finding suitors for their son’s, brothers pre-planned weddings.

I know, no one can put a balm on the wounds of Sallahudin Uncle Family. No one can even imagine their grief. We can’t do anything for anyone but at such places

Can’t we keep our mouth shut?

I came home with a burdened heart and the very next day I heard my younger sister saying:

I will wear new jora (clothes) for qul ( second mourning day)…

I am still trying to figure it out

Who are we? Who we are following? We think people are jealous of our happiness. What about us we are not even pretending sad on someone’s grief.

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