Gone too soon: A lost gem of PK661 tragedy
24-year-old former KU student was among those who were aboard ill-fated aircraft
24-year-old former KU student was among those who were aboard ill-fated aircraft. PHOTO: COURTESY AHRAAR SIRUNG’S FACEBOOK PROFILE
KARACHI:
On December 6, Ahraar Sirung had posted on Facebook a picture of him standing, his arms stretched as if he was ready to embrace someone, against the backdrop of beautiful snow-capped mountain. He had written a caption that said, ‘When mountains call, you must go’. Little had he known then that the mountains won’t let him go back.
The 24-year-old youth was among the 48 people aboard the fateful PIA flight PK661 that crashed on Wednesday in the hills of Gagan near Havelian city, minutes after it took off from Chitral. He was heading to Islamabad to resume work after vacations. Unfortunately, fate decided something else for him.
He worked as a trainer with Apex Consulting in the federal capital. He started this job a few years back after graduating from the department of public administration at Karachi University. His real name was Ahtiramul Haq. People knew him by this or the other moniker.
“He always wore a smile on his face like he was never perturbed with any kind of difficulties in life,” recalls Hasnain Raza, one of his closest KU friends, with a tremble in his voice. “Who doesn’t have problems? But only a few [people are] brave enough to welcome and bid farewell to them [problems] with their cheeks glowing red.”
Ahraar was the younger of two brothers. His father had died earlier while his mother lived in their home in their native town of Chitral. He visited her regularly whenever he could get some time off from work. He was the most beloved in the family and his mother and brother took care of him more than he could himself. According to Hasnain, his aggrieved family is now mourning for their loss.
“I still cannot believe that he is gone,” says Hasnain. “To every beep of my mobile phone, I wished that it should be Ahraar, texting me back, saying Jani khair se hun, fikar na kar [Dear, I am fine, don’t worry]. He was no less than a family member to us as well. My mother is crying. He called her Ammi [mother] and used to visit her whenever he was in the city.”
Another friend of Ahraar who also belonged to the northern regions, Danyal Haider, shares how his deceased friend came to Karachi before heading to Chitral for his vacation. “Despite moving away to Islamabad, he frequently came to Karachi,” he says, adding that he had a lot of friends here since he went to college and university in Karachi.
When the news of his untimely demise surfaced, everyone who had met him at least once or twice, shed a tear for him, shares Danyal. “He was a lively kind of guy and easily befriended anyone,” he says. “With him, one could share his/her feelings. He would keep them [buried in his heart] always.”
Ahraar’s elder brother could not muster the courage to break the news to his mother for some time, says Danyal. “How could he? He had raised him like a son. And for the mother, he was larger than her own life as she bore him for nine months inside her. I don’t know how she could bear the loss of her young lad.”
The tragic death was hard to believe for almost everyone who Ahraar was friends with. His Facebook brimmed with wall posts with comments for him. Some even asked him repeatedly to reply to their text messages — they wanted him to tell them that it was some other Ahtiramul Haq on seat No 27L in the ill-fated aircraft.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 9th, 2016.
On December 6, Ahraar Sirung had posted on Facebook a picture of him standing, his arms stretched as if he was ready to embrace someone, against the backdrop of beautiful snow-capped mountain. He had written a caption that said, ‘When mountains call, you must go’. Little had he known then that the mountains won’t let him go back.
The 24-year-old youth was among the 48 people aboard the fateful PIA flight PK661 that crashed on Wednesday in the hills of Gagan near Havelian city, minutes after it took off from Chitral. He was heading to Islamabad to resume work after vacations. Unfortunately, fate decided something else for him.
He worked as a trainer with Apex Consulting in the federal capital. He started this job a few years back after graduating from the department of public administration at Karachi University. His real name was Ahtiramul Haq. People knew him by this or the other moniker.
“He always wore a smile on his face like he was never perturbed with any kind of difficulties in life,” recalls Hasnain Raza, one of his closest KU friends, with a tremble in his voice. “Who doesn’t have problems? But only a few [people are] brave enough to welcome and bid farewell to them [problems] with their cheeks glowing red.”
Ahraar was the younger of two brothers. His father had died earlier while his mother lived in their home in their native town of Chitral. He visited her regularly whenever he could get some time off from work. He was the most beloved in the family and his mother and brother took care of him more than he could himself. According to Hasnain, his aggrieved family is now mourning for their loss.
“I still cannot believe that he is gone,” says Hasnain. “To every beep of my mobile phone, I wished that it should be Ahraar, texting me back, saying Jani khair se hun, fikar na kar [Dear, I am fine, don’t worry]. He was no less than a family member to us as well. My mother is crying. He called her Ammi [mother] and used to visit her whenever he was in the city.”
Another friend of Ahraar who also belonged to the northern regions, Danyal Haider, shares how his deceased friend came to Karachi before heading to Chitral for his vacation. “Despite moving away to Islamabad, he frequently came to Karachi,” he says, adding that he had a lot of friends here since he went to college and university in Karachi.
When the news of his untimely demise surfaced, everyone who had met him at least once or twice, shed a tear for him, shares Danyal. “He was a lively kind of guy and easily befriended anyone,” he says. “With him, one could share his/her feelings. He would keep them [buried in his heart] always.”
Ahraar’s elder brother could not muster the courage to break the news to his mother for some time, says Danyal. “How could he? He had raised him like a son. And for the mother, he was larger than her own life as she bore him for nine months inside her. I don’t know how she could bear the loss of her young lad.”
The tragic death was hard to believe for almost everyone who Ahraar was friends with. His Facebook brimmed with wall posts with comments for him. Some even asked him repeatedly to reply to their text messages — they wanted him to tell them that it was some other Ahtiramul Haq on seat No 27L in the ill-fated aircraft.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 9th, 2016.