Seven days have gone. My father, he is so far away now, but for sure, he is watching and smiling, and our love and memories about him still remain. I wrote about him several years ago (I just copy paste here):
My father, he was so poor. He lived in a small, far and undeveloped village. No one in his village continues their education more than a primary school. Most of them never have a dream, just continue their live for being a farmer, poor farmers, who live in a house with soil floor and small windows. They also live with their animals in the same house. You can imagine how unhealthy their live is, living in that house: smell and dark as their future. I might live there as well– living with the cows and goat at the same house, got married and had many children so early– without any dreams and future, if my father did not have a courage to make a change.
But my father is my hero. He did not want to live in that kind of situation. He had a dream to be able to study as high as he could. He walked 12 km every day! Every day my friends! to go to high school, just because he knew, no other things could change his life, unless education. And…his dream, effort and hard working has made another stories about a success life through education. He could make his dream came true, had a quite good career and life, and even more, all of his four children could finish their degree from the university.
My father, he had proved the power of education.
He will always be my hero. ..
May Allah rest your soul in peace Pak…
22 November 1942 – 10 Maret 2014