Death of Marlborough Man

Standing tall at over six feet, clad in a black jeans, and denim shirt, hair in a great state of disarray, a Marlborough lit in his hand...That's how I'll always remember you, Mr. Tahir Saleem, The Marlborough Man...

I would like to call you Sir (but you asked me not to, hence the name Marlborough Man), as you would always be the greatest teacher I ever had, and never do I want any teacher to be better then you...for you deserve this distinction, if anyone ever deserved it! A good teacher teaches you his subject with honesty and dedication, you went beyond that and taught me life. You weren't just a teacher of Physics and Mathematics, but you were the professor of humanity, humility, morality, sanity...

Let it be known to all that this post is dedicated to a person who dedicated his life not only to his loved ones but all those he didn't even know. A person who would get late for work and take all the bullshit in the world, to help a stray dog who got hurt. His everyday was a new definition of sacrifice. Though the ones he loved never were able to love him back. Oh I want to climb up on rooftops and scream...shut everyone up...stop everything...burn it all to the ground. I want at this very moment my existence, and all existence to end, and end in salutation to the end of what was the definition of pure human thought in this era of inhumanity...

I don't even know how you died...why you died. Why does a 30 something man, strong and sturdy, die? I will find out, or find as much as I can...

Oh how I wish I could have made that trip to meet you. A trip I planned so many times, but always delayed it, for how could you go anywhere! But gone you are! And curse myself, I always will for not making it...


I would always treasure that notebook you gave me, with all the little tidbits of wisdom you gathered, and probably wrote yourself.

I would never forget you saying "I was too far out all my life, not waving, but drowning".

I would never forget you singing "Babuji dheeray chalna, pyaar main zAra sambhalna" (Mister, walk slow, in love watch your step), with that knowing expression...O that knowing expression...I can see you now...

I would never forget the omlettes you made for me in butter, whenever I went over to study at your place. Professing that I need all the energy I can get...

How can I ever forget that your door was always open to my stupid bickering, about loves lost, hurdles faced, ambitions lost and found...your smiling face and words and actions of encouragement. Making sure that I was 100% all over again before you let go...

How can I ever forget the day you came over on your new Motorbiike that you loved and cherished! And then how can I forget when you sold it in a instant when your younger brother asked for a car. I can never forget you smiling that knowing smile when I couldn't make sense of your actions...

How can I ever forget us grooving to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, cigarettes lit, books spread about in complete disarray, completely exhausted after a series of most complex mathematical problems...

I'll smile everytime I think of your explanation of wearing two pairs of socks in the death of the summer. "Yaar dau juraaboan kay beech main cigarette kee dabbee rakhee jaayay to kharaab naheen hotee..." (A pack of cigarettes would always be safe if you place it in-between two pairs of socks)

Remember the time you let go of the girl who was your life for the sake of your brother and father, so that you may be able to support them and fulfil the promise you made to your mother! (I said this is so damn filmy) O so stupid of you!

How can I forget the time you showed me the picture of her kid (married and settled while you yourself were still nowhere)...My heart still breaks to bits as I move back into that moment of 11 years ago, just as it got shattered then...

But then all the time that I spent mesmerised by the person that was you, I remember feeling that you must be from another world, whose root was based on innocence of thought and not on basic childish selfishness, as ours...

But you are gone now...I wish I could accompany you on this new journey...for everything feels lifeless to me since this morning that I got the news that you're dead...

How can you have died and not let me know...How can your death not be the biggest tragedy of this millennium...How can life still function...

How can I write about you and be satisfied that I expressed myself about the loss that I feel! How can I ever comprehensively talk of you the person, the teacher, the guide, the friend...


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.