"How the Unseen Became the Scene: A Tale of Invisibility Cloaks and Compassion Glasses" - A Fathers day tribute......

No, I'm not here to share spooky tales or unravel mysteries of the invisible world. I'm here to talk about a different type of invisibility. Now, if you were expecting tales of the paranormal, don't worry - this is not that far off. It involves everyday magic and a very special magician - my father.

You there, do you know the name of the person who cleans your office or your apartment building? And you, do you know how many children your postman has? Or perhaps, the dreams and aspirations of the lady who serves you coffee every morning at your favourite café?

Most of us don’t. We pass these people every day, benefiting from their services, yet they remain invisible to us. But there was someone who saw these "Invisibles" clearly, someone who not just saw them but appreciated and respected them. That someone was my father.

He was a professor by profession, yet his syllabus extended far beyond academic boundaries. His classrooms were the streets, the hallways of his institution, the markets, and at the heart of his lessons was Respect. Respect for everyone, regardless of their job titles.

I remember a time when I was calling for our caretaker – let's call him Mir Azam Kaka – and I became loud, forgetting my father was sitting in the garden with some guests. Suddenly, his voice sliced through my shout, "Khurram, come here". His stern face indicated I was in trouble. He asked me why I was shouting. I tried to explain, but he cut me off with a question, “How old is he?”. Realizing my mistake, he commanded me to apologize to Mir Azam Kaka. It was a simple yet profound lesson in respect that I carry with me to this day.

My father was the man who would buy food and a warm blanket for a street seller during a cold winter night, not merely giving money but acknowledging his existence and needs. He was the person who'd spend hours listening to a musically inclined wanderer, who sang the soulful Kafis of Shah Hussain. To him, everyone had a story worth knowing, a song worth listening to.

But perhaps the most touching story comes from my younger sister's school gatekeeper, who remembered her because she addressed him with respect. When my father went to pick her up one day, the gatekeeper recognized him as her father. Surprised, my father asked him how he knew. The gatekeeper replied with a smile, "She is the only one who addresses us as 'Kaka'". That was the moment my father shared with me, brimming with pride for my sister, months before his own final farewell.

I recall my father, the head honcho of his institute, not secluded in his corner office but out in the wild - amidst the fauna and foliage. Here's where he could be found, amidst the gardeners and landscapers, completely at home in their down-to-earth company.

He'd chew the cud with them, diving into the nitty-gritty of their lives, while sharing meals and soil-stained work gloves. As they pruned roses and he pruned their skills, they became more than mere employees of the system - they were the heart and soul of the institute. They were a part of his world, as much as he was a part of theirs.

You see, my father knew something we often forget - that there is more to people than meets the eye.

And this brings me to the essence of my talk today, dear friends. In this fast-paced world, let's pause and look around. Let's SEE the people who help us daily, let's acknowledge their existence, let's appreciate their efforts, and let's show them respect. Let's cater to the Invisible.

Because, at the end of the day, everyone has a story, everyone has a song, and everyone deserves to be seen. And who knows? The act of seeing might just unveil a whole new world of untold stories and unheard songs right in front of us, enriching our lives in ways we could never imagine.

So there it is, the illustrious inheritance left behind by my father, a legacy that I, with all the fervor of a knight in shining armor, vow to uphold. Oh, and Abu, in case the universe has cosmic Wi-Fi, I hope you know - you're profoundly missed down here!

#fathersday #invisibility #beinghuman