His mother…brother….and I visited him.
It should not have been too surprising that there were others too who were visiting their loved ones as well.
I watched some people cluster…. hovering over random mounds of mud…..
“Must be a new entry….” His brother said….I gave fade smile….
I wondered what their stories were.
So we walk to the usual spot….and it's the 10th time I see his name engraved on a steel plate on a flat rock.
Grass had grown on what was once fresh earth.
One may say this was our 11th year without him.
And today again….we were there….
برگ زرد یا سیب سرخ - درخت سے بچھڑتے دونوں ہی ہیں لیکن پتہ وقت کے ساتھ اپنے زوال کی انتہا کو پہنچ کر گرتا ہے اور پھل اپنے کمال کی انتہا کو پہنچ کر۔۔۔ اب یہ تم پر ہے کہ تمہیں برگِ ...
1 week ago