Abba jee (+/-) 1923 - 2009

Abba jee,


Yesterday you hugged, joked, told me off, and waved me goodbye because I had to get back to the UK. You promised me that everything will be all right, and that we'll tour together on the trams of Holland and have 'lekkerbek'.

At first, I didn't speak to you because I didn't get something you promised me during our phone-calls, but earlier on today, you've done something I won't share too much about, but I'm not happy. There was still so much left to chat with you and we were supposed to walk big-time through the school of Chandni Chowk together which you've made.

You gave me your number of your new mobile phone, but who will I call now. Nor my grandmother, or you, my grandfather will attend my phone-calls.

Now that I've been to Pakistan after 8 years, I realised that you, and my grandmother were one of those couples, who were not only the great-grandparents, grandparents, father/mother, or brother/sister of our direct family. But almost every single place I went to in Rawalphindi, every single taxi I took, almost all the shops I went to, all the barbers I got a haircut from, the hospitals I walked in, the beggars on the streets, and whole the neighbourhood respected me so and so much, only for one reason: That I'm the grandson of my grandparents.

You've lived a great life over 80 years. Your name will always rise all over the world. I don't know how to start this letter, nor how to end it. I was there with you day before yesterday, I don't know where you've gone now.

But let me say this much:
"Wallahi I couldn't be more proud to be the grandson of my grandparents."
May Allah (swt) grant you Jannah and unite you with him (swt).


Azeem Mirza