Conversation with Baba

Hey friends,

When I had reached Pakistan just before Eid, I was going to see my grandfather (baba) after more than a year. The last I saw him was in September 2004. He fell really sick and was hospitalized in January 2005 and his health had been deteriorating since then.

As soon as I entered the room, the first thing that struck me was how thin he had become, almost skeletal like. His arms had no flesh; instead it looked like skin covering his bones. He had become really weak and was lying there as if he were sleeping, eyes barely open. He did recognize me when I introduced myself. I could not register the shock I experienced when I saw him, but in front of baba I had to act natural.

Over the next few days, I did spend some time with baba. He was aware that I live in Dubai and he would be asking me questions about Dubai, even though he would slur many times when speaking. He had always been an intelligent person, seeking to increase his knowledge all the time, and even now, as he was lying sick in his bed, he would ask me general knowledge questions. His mind was still sharp, but we realized as days progressed that his mind was deteriorating, and his ability to keep up with his conversatiing was fading fast.

My grandmother never left his side, but one particular evening, I asked my grandmother to go with everyone to a function while I would stay behind and look after baba. She was happy I had offered to stay behind and skip out on the function. Two of my other cousins stayed with me as well. The particular conversation I had with baba that evening will always remain with me for as long as I can remember.

Baba was in bed, and I was holding his hand, rubbing it. He would respond to my rubbing his hand by clutching tight my hand. Suddenly he spoke out.

“Mansur. I need to go to the mosque to pray.”

“Baba. It’s 10:30pm. The mosque is closed now.”

He went quiet. But after 10 minutes, he told me he absolutely has to go to the mosque to pray. I would tell him that it is late, and that the mosque is closed and that he can go to the mosque for the Friday prayer. Again, he went quiet. Then, ten minutes later, he asked me to give him the ablution (wudhu). I got a bucket of water, and washed his hands, mouth, nose, face, arms and feet.

“Ok, now I am ready to go to the mosque,” he said.

“It is almost eleven, baba, we cannot go. Why don’t you pray in your bed?”

He would not take no for an answer. He was so adamant to go to the mosque, for reasons I did not understand. Then I asked him something which helped me understand his intentions.

“Baba, how old are you?”

Without even pausing for a second, his answer came out in an instant: “75 years old.”

In reality, baba was a grand 93 years old. His mind was stuck 18 years ago. He was living his life as if he were 75 years old. Maybe there were a time when he absolutely had to go the mosque when he was 75. It was remarkable to see my baba talk like this. On another ocassion, he forced us to dress him up in formal clothes, complete with suit jacket and shoes because he had to deleiver some important documents to someone who had passed away now, but in his mind was alive.

The going-to-the-mosque conversation was the last one I had with him. It was a sweet time with him, and many times I felt like that he was holding on to his life because he wanted to see me before he let go of his life. Maybe I am wrong, but I know everyone has a personal connection with baba, and I have my own personal connection. Maybe God did not take away his life before He gave me a chance to speak with my baba one last time. I feel that very strongly.

His death was not a shock for us because we had seen him sick for so long that at the back of our minds, we all knew it was a matter of when. He passed away peacefully. The burial took the same day. It was over in a day. The realization that he had left us hit me couple of days later as I would sleep on my baba’s bed to give my grandmother company at night so she would not feel alone. The reality of the situation struck me deeply, but also knowing that we all have to go one day back to our Creator gave me peace in my heart. He has created us, and He will take away our lives. If you are comfortable with this fact, then death doesn't sound so bad after all.

Mansur