Hearing the news on TV, or reading about Edhi sahab’s deteriorating state of health in newspapers always made me upset and uncomfortable. I used to become very anxious every time he was hospitalised.
Hearing the news on TV, or reading about Edhi sahab’s deteriorating state of health in newspapers always made me upset and uncomfortable. I used to become very anxious every time he was hospitalised. l don’t know why, but I have always had this strange notion in my mind that Edhi is somehow the last ray of sunshine, the last hope for humanity, particularly for the poor Pakistanis. I had this belief that his death would be the end of kindness, humility and virtue in the world. I was scared at the thought of his death. For Pakistanis, Edhi was not just a person - he was a quality; he was the last redeeming quality, if you consider it. Watching his face on TV or in newspaper was enough to restore all my lost faith in humanity.
I signed every petition there was for him to be nominated for the Nobel Prize. I remember forwarding these petitions to everyone and making sure that they signed it as well. Last year, I gave up; tired and disappointed. Then, I realised that Nobel Prize was too small for a man like Edhi. He did not need it to make him great; it was the other way round.
I would be lying if I say Edhi was my hero or my ideal because I could not even aspire to be like the human he was, not even a bit. I can’t even think about living the way he did. People like him are a special gift from God. A saint living in a world full of sinners, he was willing to sacrifice his health and life for people that never gave him enough respect; a testament to this fact is that his head office - consisting of only two rooms - was looted by bandits in October 2014. His coffers were stripped of 20 million in cash and five kilos in gold.
On Saturday, I woke up and heard of his demise. Staring at my TV, I let out a long, heavy sigh. That was it. Everything was over. It was strange; I had feared this day for so long and now that it was upon me, it was almost like my brain couldn’t process it. A feeling of gloom and despair sent shivers down my spine. The same words were being repeated on different TV channels like a drill: “funeral prayers”, “stadium”, “Mufti Muneeb ur Rehman”, “Abbotabad”, “Edhi village”, “Edhi homes”, “prime minister”, “Sitara-i-Imtiaz”. And then, out of nowhere, all the media persons and anchors started to talk about Edhi sahab’s will to donate his cornea after death. I stared in disbelief. There it was, Edhi sahab once again becoming a source of light for others.
A God-fearing man, Edhi sahab knew all men are mortal. It’s just that he was ready for it. He had spent all his life saving people. Whether it was the orphans, the widows, or the old and weak parents; all of them found a home and support in him. There were the other - the nameless, the penniless and feeble men, women and children he helped quietly so that they might live with dignity. It was as if he was in a constant state of war against misery.
Edhi sahab has left the world but all the hearts he has touched, all the lives he has saved remain to remember his name: Edhi. He will be remembered by generations to come. After all, kindness never dies.
