I am traveling in Syria and I fall asleep in the van. A habit or is it the blanket of security from my childhood.
I am in Karachi; my father has just come home from work. I am eagerly awaiting his unspoken words. Yaaay………we are off to Clifton. It has become a daily evening ritual, after Abijan returns from work.
I am in the back of the car, as he drives with the family towards Clifton, it seems we are going out of town, the buildings turn old and made with yellow brick. The sky is a painted beauty dressing this evening in its evening gown of many hues. It is a typical gorgeous sunset of Karachi that I take for granted. I am seven.
The beach with its dark sand and its glimmering silver within it is what holds me in its spell. I run down the steps of the domed building which is supposed to be somebody’s mazaar, I at seven cannot get down fast enough. There is no marine drive, no shops, no buildings, no lights, nothing, just the park, the black beach and the moonlit sky.
Once I get down the seven levels of steps and gardens from the domed mazaar, there is the home stretch…….Rayri walaas are selling kaudis (shells) to play games with, that is not my interest either except for a fleeting moment.
I am at the waters edge the black gooey sand squelching through my toes, heaven above and heaven under my feet. I am seven, my needs and desires are simple: the soft gooey sand in my toes, my parents and my sib near by, and the watchful but uncritical eye of my father on me.
I skip around in the sand, both wet and dry, clean, and black. The night falls and the moon is now in full majesty helping me pick up the shimmer of silver in the sand……

Clifton, every evening after work… father and I and the others too, but on these jaunts it was he and I connecting to each other and to Him (SWT) with unsaid words. Just a feeling of security and benevolent love from him, my father and from Him (SWT) my Creator.
I never remember the journey back home as I would fall asleep in the car……and as a passenger I still do.

Supplication for my father: May Allah forgive his sins and give him his final rest in jannat al Firdous.

What do you remember about your father?

Pictures courtesy of BS ( A voice from the past)

7 thoughts on “CLIFTON…….AND MY FATHER

  1. Pingback: THE MAZAAR OF THE SAINT AT CLIFTON KARACHI | Siraat-e-Mustaqeem

  2. Alhamdulillah, I still cling on to my dad, whenever I want to. It’s such a blessing. I remember the evening drives, and having tikkas in the car with him. That used to be a ritual.
    Started, the blog again, and may our fathers be blessed ameen.
    Asalam o alaikum


  3. OMG. Your beautifully written piece just brought the memories of my dad back. My eyes are watery and I wish he was alive. I miss you dad so much. I wish he was here.


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