Five years after his passing, my father’s voice still echoes—in lessons, in silence, and in the quiet strength he instilled
As the calendar turns to July 03, 2025, it marks five complete years since my beloved father, Abdul Rehman Khanday, left this world. Yet, not a single day has passed without his presence being felt—in our thoughts, our conversations, and the silence of our hearts. His voice still echoes in my mind, his words remain etched in my soul, and his presence feels so fresh that sometimes I catch myself turning, expecting to see him. Truly, some absences are so profound, they begin to feel like a sacred presence.
My father was not a man of pomp or noise. He was quiet strength, firm resolve, and infinite compassion wrapped in simplicity. There was a nobility in the way he carried himself—dignified, humble, and deeply grounded in values. But among the many things that made him unique, one quality stood out with vibrant clarity: he was outspoken but clean-hearted. He would speak his mind, never afraid to call out the truth, yet there wasn’t a speck of malice in him. His heart was pure, unburdened by deceit, and open like the sky. People sometimes misunderstood his words, but never his intentions—for those who knew him well knew he meant no harm, only honesty.
As a father, he was also a mother. He didn’t just provide—he nurtured. During exam days and long study nights, he would make tea for us at midnight with his own hands and bring it with love, just to keep us going. He would sit in our reading room silently, often without a word, just to give us strength by his presence—and he would not leave until we slept. That quiet companionship, that subtle support, was the purest form of love. How many fathers embody such care? How many carry both roles with such grace?
He was a man who started from zero—no privilege, no shortcut, no ready-made path. Every inch of success, every respect he earned, every step of stability in our lives was the result of his tireless struggle, unbreakable will, and deep reliance on Allah. From a humble beginning, he carved out a dignified life, and in doing so, he didn’t just build a home—he built a future. For us, his children, he became the ladder upon which we climbed toward competence, nobility, and self-respect. He raised us to be upright, educated, and thoughtful members of society, and that, to me, is nothing short of legendary.
I was shaped in his lap—not just emotionally and morally, but intellectually. He had a deep love for international politics and was always eager to understand the shifting contours of global power. His interest in geopolitics was contagious, and I found myself drawn to the same world he observed so intently.
In Kashmir during the early 2000s, amidst the turbulence of conflict between India and Pakistan, credible sources of news were rare. Yet, our evenings and mornings were anchored in one source of truth: the radio. The Urdu service of the BBC, known as Sairbeen, became our window to the world. I remember vividly—at 7:00 AM and again at 9:30 PM, I would sit beside my father, listening intently. Those moments weren’t just about news—they were about understanding the world, building awareness, and nurturing a deep curiosity that would grow with time. In those simple but profound moments, he unknowingly laid the foundation of my inquisitive and observant mind.
That period, with its political instability and atmosphere of fear, could have crushed the will to learn. But for me, it became the beginning of an intellectual journey. My father’s passion was the spark, and Sharbeen was the flame that kept it alive. He taught me how to think beyond what we see—how to connect events, analyse motives, and appreciate the complexity of global affairs. He didn’t hand me answers—he gave me the tools to search for them.
He was a man of deep faith and noble character. In times of difficulty, he never crumbled. Even when life tested him with hardship, he bore it with patience and trust in Allah. He would often say, “Jo Allah kare, behtar ke liye hota hai.” And now, it is this same faith that comforts me when the pain of his absence weighs heavy.
My father’s true legacy is not in any wealth, but in the dignity of his children, the principles he left behind, and the countless lives he touched through quiet compassion and unwavering integrity. He taught us to live with grace, to speak with kindness, and to walk humbly on the earth. We are his legacy—his living testimony.
Five years may have passed, but his presence has not faded. His thoughts, his wisdom, his laughter—even his silence—they remain alive, as vivid as ever. He was not just a good father. He was a legendary one. One whose love, sacrifices, and dreams continue to shape our lives every single day.
As I remember him today, I don’t mourn just the loss—I celebrate the life he lived. A life of purpose, piety, humility, and love.
My heartfelt wish and prayer to Almighty Allah is this: O Allah, when my time comes, reunite me with my parents. That reunion will be my Paradise.
I pray that Allah grants him the highest place in Jannat-ul-Firdous, forgives his shortcomings, and envelops his soul in eternal mercy and light.
My dearest father, AB Rehman Khanday—your physical presence may have left this world, but your light will forever shine in mine. Thank you for everything. I miss you more than words will ever say.
Inna Lillaahi Wa Innaa Ilayhir Raaji’oon!
Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Him we shall return.
Er Umair Ul Umar
um***********@***il.com