Lest we forget

I was at Presidency International School for lunch after completion of my classes at IIUC. One of our teachers Mrs. Jamaluddin was leaving. She was going to pick her sister, arriving from America, up from Dhaka Airport and visit her parents at Pabna for a glorious family reunion after a long time before joining her husband at his new army posting.

A few days before she had hosted the most luxurious Class Party for her students with real china dishes to serve them despite our warnings that the children might break them, her husband helping generously. So, with her eye for details and her zest for life, we could only imagine what the reunion would be like. So, the farewell was bittersweet. We were going to miss her but we were all very happy for her.

As we proceeded with lunch and chattered on, I noticed she dipped the beef in the dal before she fed it to her daughter, Shaptarshi, a student of third standard. I appreciated it though I was not interested to emulate it. I am one of those mothers who believe in bringing up my children to be hardy and adjustable, a tough world waits beyond the limits of my protection and I do not wish my protective nature to make them weak. I admire mothers who feel they can shelter their children from all the evils of life, but I do not feel so strong about myself.

A few days later, Daisy Apa, one of our seniormost teachers, called to say that Diba, one of our junior teachers was frantic as she recieved a call from the scene of an accident but she could not determine who it was as she did not have caller ID service. We called all our teachers and found them all safe. But the nine o`clock news revealed all. Mr. and Mrs. Jamaluddin and her sister had died on the spot in a terrible car accident on their way to Pabna. Diba was the last person Mrs. J. had called from her mobile. so, the Police thought she could identify the victims for them. Shaptarshi had survived four more hours with her brains spilled out, calling out for her other to comfort her. All that was left for us were their graves, in Dhaka. We could not believe it.

But as it all settled in, we came to realize how we fool ourselves into believeing we are going to live forever and that we can always protect our loved ones. We realized we should make use of each and every moment as we do not know what is going to happen the next moment. We should also prepare those we love to face the world here and hereafter on their own with courage and self reliance. this is the greatest gift we can give to our children.

I pray to Allah that the happy little family is happy after death as they were while they were alive. And we are thankful to Him for reminding us about our real purpose in life by examples like these.