noor jahan: light of the world

“When the light returns to its source, it takes nothing of what it has illuminated.” — Rumi

. . .

My dearest Dadi Ammi,

I never thought I would be writing these words so soon. The irony of time is in its masterful trickery — how else could there be an abundance of something and so little of it at once? Some live entire lives believing there is nothing but time, putting off the best for the last, waiting until the perfect moment to do that thing they’ve always wanted to do… but you were the exception. You lived the fullest life out of anyone I’ve ever known, even when time was not always on your side.

It’s painful for me to recall my final moments with you — racing thoughts of things left unsaid, regrets, mistakes, shortcomings — but I know now that you would’ve wanted me to remember the comfort of your embrace, your warm hands holding mine with the same tenderness as the day I was born, your hearty laugh and contagious smile.

When I close my eyes, I’m transported back to your home in Lalbagh Road. I can still envision you at your peak, roaming the halls in an elegant sari, the smell of your cooking wafting down the corridors. Sitting in your lap as you sang to me, running into your arms to show you the drawing I’d just made. Fast-forward a few years, and you’re carrying a suitcase full of gifts, eager to open and distribute them to Sara, Raiyaan, and I, despite being tired to the bone after a long flight halfway across the world. The nights we’d stay up laughing at your quirky jokes, mornings spent with me hiding under the blanket as you covered for me being sick so I could miss another day of school.

Even when your hands became calloused, wrinkles settling into your face — you were beautiful. When your lungs were not what they used to be and your legs could not give you the support they once did — you were resilient.

How could you not be? Somehow, your experiences and losses never crushed your spirit. You always came out stronger, with the same burst of energy, selfless and unconditional love, and an indiscriminating heart that could move mountains. You believed in the bonds of kinship, in family and true friendship, in forgiveness, kindness, and justice.

It’s no wonder your name encompasses your likeness — Noor Jahan, light of the world. Your light was immeasurable. Limitless. Infinite.

And though it returned to its Source, it lives on inside each and every person you touched with your heart and soul. It lives in your children, all three of whom embody your grace, your integrity, your compassion, and the depth of your love. It lives in your siblings, your daughters-in-law, your grandchildren, and your great-grandchildren — a lineage of light that will continue long after we depart from this earth.

My heart breaks when I think of all the milestones you’ll miss — graduations, weddings, the birth of another generation. It yearns to see your smile one more time, to hear your laugh, to sit at your feet and learn everything there is to know about you.

But I know now that you longed for the world that exists thereafter. The world in which the ones you lost are alive, well, and healthy. The world where Dada waits for you with open arms. A painless, beautiful, everlasting world where time knows no bounds.

So I bid you farewell, but only for a moment.

Until we meet again. Insha’Allah.

Your loving granddaughter,

Simu