The Last Bath

my eyes are filled with tears, it is hard for me to put into words how this made me feel,,,
i know this is not fiction, no way, it is too real.
i have experienced the deathof someone close, and it is ugly, and sad, and your writing captured so much,,,
i would like to talk to more, so if u want e mail me please do
love mya

myastone2000@yahoo.com

A very deeply moving narration.It is written so emotionally that i was completely engrossed in it,felt so real n true.It broght tears to my eyes thinking how hard it is on a person to go through with the inevitable,the reality which seems would never happen to us but alas,it does n when it does it takes you totally by surprise.

Last year my nana(grandfather) died and we were very close to him,when it happened it seemed like we would never be able to deal with the heart breaking pain but Allah The Almighty eased the pain with time. Hope Allah(Subhanawatala) gives your father a place in the highest of the paradise i.e jannatul firdaus Ameen

Keep praying for him in your prayers n remember that one day we will all be reunited with our dear ones inshallah in Jannat

You`re a beautiful writer. You`ve described many people`s worst nightmare, i think.

That -- was beautiful.

Very touching story, very movingly written. I liked your unusual choice of subject matter. Something no one ever really talks about, much less writes about. Your writing style is very effective.

The story should be powerful enough to make the reader see instead of merely read. ``The Last Bath`` surely has that strength and ambience.

I accidently placed a post for this article in ``Glass``. I am sorry for the confusion.

Riazi,

This is very powerfully written. Very emotive. In this case I didn`t feel the need to know - fact or fiction. The feelings expressed at the loss of a loved one came through plain and simple.

So much of life, we take for granted. Separated from aging parents - every phone call in the middle of the night is a nightmare re-lived. The time when the phone rang in the middle of the night, and it was my father-in-law, and he wouldn`t talk to me - he wouldn`t say anything except that it didn`t look good for my father, that I should come right away... waiting the interminable hours to buy a ticket, get on a plane, the long flight, the polite small talk with other passengers, all the time not knowing.
I made it, just in time. I don`t know if he recognized me.

Anita

Yousufi refers to some of his work as faction.

Fact + Fiction = Faction

This article is an example of that.

However, there is more from facts than fiction in this.

Thank you everyone, Wasiq, bg, Uzair, Aliya, Ras, temporal, Zehra, RR, mansoor, Saima, Random. You guys are such good writers and comming from all of you, trust me, it means a lot.

Temporal, I used `he` because that night I heard my father, I felt him come up the stairs as he usually did to convince me that it was too late. It was late that night too. I do appreciate your taking time out for any kind of comments, critical or otherwise. I say, destroy it, because if you don`t, you may not enjoy my next effort at all.

Beautiful and very moving. Wonderful and memorable.

My condolences for your loss and may Allah grant peace to your father, you and your family.

Beautifully written and very well expressed. The more I read it the more pleasure it gives me. I`m just waiting to know if it`s fact or fiction.In either case it`s a wonderfully written article.

Encore! Encore!

I realize that knowing whether this is fact in the sense that a close relative (father-figure) did actually die would make the reader feel validated, but truth depends on the readers` sense of agreement. I don`t think a good writer has to be factually honest or a wild manipulator. Just sincere will do for me.

The thing that strike me as a little too much about death rites is the wash-up. I feel very sympathetic for the 13 year old who had to do this for a beloved person. I did the same thing for a relative, once. It was pretty awful and I wonder at the necessity of the elaborate bathing ritual. I wonder if I can ever go through this again for anyone else. Worse, I actually worry about who will have to do this for me when I die.

A great read.I look forward to more from you.

my god that was powerful...it was like eating a york pepermint patty...the shivers just wont stop running down my back. very nicely done. also...i like temporals comments, its nice to be able to get feedback like that.

do let us know..fact or fiction.

rizvi.

Great writing, hope to read you again on chowk.

regards.

It can`t be fiction. I know so...the truth finally hits you when its all over. Then, all there`s left is memories and more memories. Tears and more tears. Pain. The sense of helplessness and then realization of it as a part of life. Then...the questions of its necessity. Finally, acceptance. But it never goes away completely. You have dreams where everything is the way it always was. You wake up with a feeling of void and then must continue on with the chores of life. But it stays with you on a subconcious level. And then... it begins to fade away. You try but in vain. One day, when you are blessing all the souls on Shabe Baraat...it all feels very normal. You go about your business. And then you come across this article and it all comes back to you. Thank you Riazi for the memories. Do keep writing. You indeed did write from the heart. I know so. Thanks.

Rehan.