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Never Ever Dream Again (Autobiography of Fazal Raziq Shahab) Part 52

I really repented on our return to the devastated Swat Valley. No water supply, no electricity and no sustainable peace. And the worst of all was surprise search operation. The soldiers searched houses any time of the day or night. It was more insulting than the beating at Ration Centers or the Haji Camp Episode. After some three months electricity was restored partly. The ration facility was extended to a few months more. For our villages of Musakhel, Nawekaley was declared as centre for giving tea, sugar and other items of kitchen use. The atmosphere was tense and nerve breaking. Now our visits to the Nephrologist at Rawalpindi were as hard as going through hell. Check-posts incidents of remorse were common. These all undesirable elements had adverse effects on my wife’s physique. She was admitted for intensive observation in Bilal Hospital, Rawalpindi. She remained most often lost in mental disorder. She was seeing things and the doctors told us they are trying to judge how much her brain is damaged.

In short, at the start of the new year 2010, she talked to me saying, “Khana, please forgive me if I had ever disobeyed you or any thing that annoyed you. I am soon going to leave you for ever.” Then she repeated the name of Allah, without break until she was lost in Coma. We took her to Peshawar to a private Doctor’s clinic who was also a peer. He checked her and informed us it was a matter of four hours at the least.

We returned on the way back and we were stopped at Dargai Check post. A soldier came and looking at the backseat of the taxi and said in his deformed Pushto, “bemaran de.” We said yes. He went away without any word. After a long interval another soldier came and asked where we were going. I told him we are going to our home in Aboha, Swat. Then he waved us to go. Reaching Aboha very late at night. The following evening on 5th of January, 2010. She suddenly opened her eyes, looked at her sons and daughter and then fixed her gaze on me. She was surprisingly looking as if she was the on the first day of marriage. Her blue eyes were shining with joy. And then she closed her eyes for ever.

One day before her mother had died without knowing of her.She was buried near her mother that evening. A few days before her death, she said, “Khana. I have no regrets in life.I have seen good days also. So why should grumble about the bad one. But I have one regret. I should have arrange a wife for you before my illness.You are so clumsy, you can’t even oil your hair yourself. I know you will not do it and you will loose all your hair.I have spoiled you and I am so much worried about you.” I said, “Do’nt talk rubbish. You will soon get over it. Suppose you have done it who could have guaranteed the success of this unusual match.”

She was a symbol patience and sacrifice.She ignored my cheating on her. She never complained when I returned very late at night from parties. She might have wept silently but let no one know her inner pain. She could read the Holy Quran only and her average was 50 times per year the recitation of the holy book of Allah. That was her spiritual diet. Sometimes, I shuddered in fear what punishment would be in store for me on the Doom’s Day, for cheating such a pure spirit. Some times she would laugh and say, “When will you grow up. But no. I like you to remain. So I like to pamper you”

I felt her absence the very next day of her death at breakfast. Some thing was missing. Perhaps the touch of her hand, the look of her blue eyes, the sense of security I used to feel  when she was around. We are a very large family but she kept every one pleased and she was like a queen in the family. She had full faith in Allah. She would buy the best rice from Shamizai or Aladand as we eat rice on daily basis. If she had no cash money in hand even then she would buy it. When I told her I could not find money, she would say,” Allah will arrange it. Do not worry.” And exactly it was arranged before the dealer asked for it. Shamozai rice were her favorite and Aladand was second priority. She also sent 100 kilo rice to my daughter who lives in Saidu Sharif. After her demise, she never got it as we our self buy rice on weekly or monthly basis. Every body in our house feels her absence once in a while every day. May  her soul rest in eternal peace. Ameen.

Fazal Raziq Shahab belongs to the historic village of Aboha, Swat. His writings on Swat State provides very useful information to the general readers and researchers. He remained Swat State functionary and thus observed the happenings of the State very closely. He is the author of two books and his Columns has been a regular feature of Daily Azadi, Bakhabarswat.com and Lafzuna.com.
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Fazal Raziq Shahab belongs to the historic village of Aboha, Swat. His writings on Swat State provides very useful information to the general readers and researchers. He remained Swat State functionary and thus observed the happenings of the State very closely. He is the author of two books and his Columns has been a regular feature of Daily Azadi, Bakhabarswat.com and Lafzuna.com.
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