“Today in the midst of rain and cloudy skies, I looked up and silently prayed for my beloved Nana Jaan. As I was breathing in the air of newly-mown scented like grass and a combination of freshly poured rain still dripping on the sidewalks of the street, raindrops fell on my shoulder when walking underneath the giant tree gracefully holding itself together looking tall, carrying all the tears of the world. For an instant I felt vulnerable in the openness of Nature, yet so alive to feel the rain on my skin. My realization of ‘life’ in the occurrence of those ten seconds took me in the realm of sweet embrace…”
My last visitation of my Nana Jaan (Maternal Grandfather) will always remain a vivid memory of mine; the day of his Funeral when we met on the glorious hill, standing beside his peaceful abode with family and loved ones. United we stood, mourning a loss of a personality that was of brilliance and greatness.
A writer was born within me the moment I laid eyes on my Nana Jaan’s praiseful replies at the letters I so carefully wrote in Urdu with the usual imperfections of a beginner, almost ten years ago. His appreciation for my work was inspirational in my teenage development and really helped me understand the poise of writing and the beauty of our Urdu language. I was always fascinated by his talented correspondence in English or Urdu, both languages he mastered so elegantly.
Nana Jaan must have encouraged countless students during his humble years of teaching art at the College of Lahore, Pakistan. Raising ten beautiful children, providing them excellent education and sending them abroad to become successful doctors, engineers and businessmen, didn’t come easy in those days. Fortunately, with the support of my lovely Nani Jaan (grandma) always on his side, they both seemed to accomplish the very best and were beautifully rewarded for their efforts later on in life. Their marriage of more than sixty years withstanding all hardships, yet filled with enormous blessings was a celebration on its own.
My Nana’s artistic skills are passed on to his children; such as his eldest son whose success as a Doctor and hospital owner in
When creating this blog, I was looking for an outlet to pour out my feelings and thoughts to raise opinions and question my intellect. At first, I did not grasp that in the absence of my Nana Jaan’s letters and honest praise, I’d miss him immensely through my writing. But deep down I realized to continue my passion in putting thoughts on paper, how mediocre or silly they may be. If Nana Jaan was adamant enough to write his daily events in his well kept journal each and every single day, then I’m proud to follow his footsteps to my own capability, knowing that if he was aware of my online journal today, he’d be overjoyed. As the brave man he always was, he would encourage me to carry on and not take any disappointments along the way.
“Hereby am I, Naila S. Azam, dedicating my journal to my late grandfather, my Nana Jaan; the very well respected Mr. Nasir Ahmed Khan, whom I’ll always love and remember in my every written word as a tribute to his Mastery of language and Sublime intelligence.”