My cousin Yaser isn’t dead
Yaser isn't dead. In fact, he seems more alive to me than ever before.
A month after Yaser (better known as Lieutenant Syed Yaser Abbas Shaheed) lost his wallet, he received a letter along with his identity card. It was an apology from the guy who had stolen it. He wrote that it was the dire need for money that had forced him to steal, that he was really ashamed and would return him the amount if and when his circumstances changed.
I’m sure that though his feelings of remorse would have grown now that Yaser has left, the letter writer can draw some comfort from the fact that he had at least apologised.
But what about those who attended Yaser’s funeral with the sole purpose of “making money”.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I am a part of the family who witnessed every scene after his death – right from taking his body to Lahore on a military plane, to his post-burial days in the house. On Tuesday night, the day he was buried, many of us lost our wallets and mobile phones – most of them stolen during his Namaz-e-Janaza. The very next morning, we had many more things missing from the house, right from cell phones to shampoo bottles. Seriously!
More than 17,000 fans on Facebook supporting Yaser for a Nishan-e-Haider award, several chain text messages praising his act of valour, tribute videos uploaded on YouTube and candlelight vigils organised in Pakistan and abroad made perfect sense. But what didn’t was the bizarre way of paying homage to a national hero — taking advantage of his death to steal all that could be stolen. The truth is we are surrounded by black sheep, whether they are those alleged ‘insiders’ in the armed forces supporting the terrorists to carry out the PNS operation or a part of Yaser’s funeral procession. What then connects them is the “immoral fibre”.
I cannot stop relating to Faiz’s idea of death:
Yaser isn’t dead. In fact, he seems more alive to me than ever before. What’s dying then is the conscience and what has by far sustained us is the fact that we still have a few people who did not sell their souls ... Yaser was one of them.
I’m sure that though his feelings of remorse would have grown now that Yaser has left, the letter writer can draw some comfort from the fact that he had at least apologised.
But what about those who attended Yaser’s funeral with the sole purpose of “making money”.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I am a part of the family who witnessed every scene after his death – right from taking his body to Lahore on a military plane, to his post-burial days in the house. On Tuesday night, the day he was buried, many of us lost our wallets and mobile phones – most of them stolen during his Namaz-e-Janaza. The very next morning, we had many more things missing from the house, right from cell phones to shampoo bottles. Seriously!
More than 17,000 fans on Facebook supporting Yaser for a Nishan-e-Haider award, several chain text messages praising his act of valour, tribute videos uploaded on YouTube and candlelight vigils organised in Pakistan and abroad made perfect sense. But what didn’t was the bizarre way of paying homage to a national hero — taking advantage of his death to steal all that could be stolen. The truth is we are surrounded by black sheep, whether they are those alleged ‘insiders’ in the armed forces supporting the terrorists to carry out the PNS operation or a part of Yaser’s funeral procession. What then connects them is the “immoral fibre”.
I cannot stop relating to Faiz’s idea of death:
"The graveyards are full indeed but only with the death of humanity."
Yaser isn’t dead. In fact, he seems more alive to me than ever before. What’s dying then is the conscience and what has by far sustained us is the fact that we still have a few people who did not sell their souls ... Yaser was one of them.