Home » Anonymous Misfits » You Were One Of a Kind

You Were One Of a Kind

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It has been hurting, it has been hurting for a while now. It has been hurting since last Wednesday when the PIA plane crashed on its way to Islamabad. It has been hurting for all those 47 unknowing souls which lifted up without last goodbyes and kisses; which lifted up as their bodies rolled down under the scorching debris of the burning plane. But most of all, it has been hurting for you.

Not that the other 47 souls were unimportant or their deaths not important enough but that a mass death has this thunder effect of reverberating through the hearts and rattling through the bones of whoever heard it yet effecting those the most who were standing beside the tree which severed due to the lightning bolt. Every death is a lightning bolt and those surrounding trees, the loved ones. And although I am not a loved one, I stand in the vicinity of those, who loved you. Admired you, idealized you.

And there’s so much I want to write but there is so less of what I can express. Express though reminds me of those few broken verses which I wrote when I learned of your departure from this world; when tears adamantly refused to flow out of those defiant eyes which only blinked in astonishment and incredulity. Probably I should put them up because, perhaps, I may not feel a clenched heart in my chest when I look up to the 7th December of 2017 and feel like I did nothing. At least I’d be able to tell myself that I wrote for you, even if you never will know it now. Would I even live up to the December of 2017? Can’t say, but here’s to be on the safe side:

And I shall drink
All the pain that
Pleads to flood out
Through my eyes
For oceans of Salt
water will not do
Justice, to the agony of
This aggrieved heart

Since it’s not your leaving
That leaves me Distraught
But to know that
You left this
Tavern so early
When it was still so
Vile, bleak,
and filthy, To depart

And as this severance
Marks an end to the
Servant role to thy Lord
I feel even smaller
Among a handful of
Philanthropists;
Too weary, too tired
To do my part.

You were one of a kind, Sir Junaid Jumshed. And I say that with the hope that you may be able to hear these words, see these words, feel these words as they travel through space from one satellite to another in form of eery digits and shapes once I press the ‘publish’ button. You didn’t just transform from a popular lead singer (whose band was considered Pink floyd of Pakistan) in your search of truth; to a humane scholar, but you transformed many behind you. Many.

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