Arif Hussain Ashoor
One day I was meddling with my friends, who had come to visit Islamabad. On the spur of the moment, my mobile rang and the sound echoed “bohemia” it was just because I have always been a very big fan of Bohemia. As I attended the call I got some very bad tidgind. My mom told me to get home asap. One of our Phopho had died.
I asked for pardon and made my way to home. Ahmmed was shrieking saying that you might go, but we would have our dinner tonight adding that we would never forgive you if you missed the memorable party.
When I reached home, I was surprised to see my mom!! she had been busy dressing herself well. I did not get so then why she rang me to come hurrily. Lipstick, perfume and a lot of other such stuffs which even I don’t exactly know. She was hyper busy using all those gadgets one by one. “We are going for funerial” Aliya told Amma. Opening the quick sound of body spray responded my mom said so what, “we didn’t wash our face, we are not allowed to take bath”.Quick and angry mood was the answer to Aliya.
When we reached their home. Many people had already come for condolence. I muddled in between to approach Junaid but failed to give few sympathetic words owing to the rush in their small compartment. Someone offered me tea so I stepped back and waited for my turn. As I was waiting I observed a group of people very close to me. They were discussing about PTI’s sittin. A fatty beard man was making his argument saying that it would better IK wanted a real change and wanted to do some thing for country, he must be allowed to come in power via election. In response the other guy was trying to convince him about IK, that he is doing well and trying to get his support for his (PTI) party. I thought that these guys busy in gossips should realize the fact that they were all there for condolence .
At men side it was better infact, as I approached the other side Aliya was asking WiFi password, someone must have said her the password and she was sure updating the current status. In her own words like “ Aliya is attaining funerial prayers with Amma and 48 others”. It would never end here because after very second comments and likes would keep her engaged and she would probably continue on replying for all those comments. Let’s talk about Amma. She remained very serious for few moments, praying and trying to calm sorrowed family. Meanwhile some girls were talking about thier dress and the real shock that hit me like a blow was when I saw some girls busy in taking selfie with thier horror based artificial-sympathetic face. After condolence when we got back to our home I logged in my Facebook account. I saw a post written as “ Ali is feeling sad with 19 others.” I saw a very long list of condolence in which Ali was too busy replying their comments. He liked my condolence’s comments too. Remember! Ali’s mother had died.