Raja Gidh

Saeed was the only son of probably the richest man in our village. His father was called Baboo, a title given to the educated and wealthy people in our village those days. He was not the best friend of mine but being the class fellows, we were very close; we studied together sitting in the same room (sometimes on the same desk) from 4th to 10th grade. Despite of being so close and together for so many years we could not become best friends, I think the reason behind this was the wealth of his father which exposed from his physique, dress and confidence.

Our high school was at a distance of 8 KM from our village, so we have to travel by foot for more than an hour daily. Saeed had an umbrella which was given to him by his parents to use in extreme heat or rain. But he never used it in either the scorching heats of June or heavy rains of Sawan. I guess he did not want him to alienate him from other fellows or he felt guilty for having something which we had not. The life separated us when I got passed and Saeed including many other fellows failed in SSC exams and quitted the studies. I could never talk to him for more than hour or two afterwards because of my study engagements and some domestic problems. He enjoyed his life playing cricket, backpacking and attending marriage, magni ceremonies with his friends.

His father was a rich man who was known for his generosity and wealth. One day I heard from a cousin that Baboo Aslam was back from Saudi Arabia because of some serious illness. He was admitted to a hospital in Islamabad; afterwards doctor diagnosed him with cancer. He was given the best available treatment but of no avail. Later he was shifted to UK for further treatment but he could not survive and one day we were informed that Baboo Aslam had died. After the death of his father Saeed had to take his father's responsibility and find some work as their wealth had been finished by the expensive treatment. He had to go to Saudi Arabia to run his family. I was amazed by the change in the attitude of Saeed after his father's death. He took the responsibility of his family, worked hard and was quite content with his achievements. I met him when he was in Pakistan for his wedding, this was first time I found an old friend in him. I felt guilty for not helping him in times of distress and misery during the days of his father's illness and death. Soon we were very close again; I attended his marriage ceremony before returning to Karachi. He went back to Saudi Arabia soon after; we remained in touch with each other.

He used to tell me about the deteriorating relationships of his mother and his wife. His mother, sisters and wife were at loggerheads with each other for most of the time. He loved his wife very much and his mother did not want him to continue his marriage. I was very confused whether what to do to help him out. He returned back on annual leaves to meet his family when we talked to each other for the last time, he was depressed a lot. I was in a class room of my school when someone informed me that Saeed had committed suicide. His suicide buried me under the guilt of knowing the cause of his suicide still not doing anything for him. I can still feel that, but still do not know what should have I done? Last year I met Saeed's mother at her grand house, she talked to me for a long time about her lost son and Baboo Aslam. She loves and respects me a lot for being her lost son's friend and class fellow but she never liked Saeed's wife for being her grandson's mother, do she really love anyone?

(Note: This is a true story , names and titles have been changed, so please do not blame me for discussing only the people committing suicide because I feel sorry for them. The title may be disturbing but I love this a lot. Also ignore the grammatical and spelling mistakes as I can't concentrate on them)