A sweet old man used to frequent our place, noor faced, talkative, story teller and kind; I remember how he used to give us small sweet treats as a child, nabud and shirin. Wearing a dussa and thick glasses, his pockets were never empty for us as children.We were not related by blood but had friendly terms. However his demeanor was always gentle and warm.I saw him coming to our house all these years. We called him khawaja, I never got to know his real name. We grew up calling him that and never heard anyone call him anything else. He was a very hard working man who had built his life in dignity and honor.
He passed away yesterday at night. An old man who saw as much as life allowed him. He was a part of my childhood, a man who blessed me, made duaa (prayers) for me everytime he saw me. I wish to remember him as the genteel person that he was. May Allah rest his soul in peace.