You never called yourself a hero. But I always saw you as one.
There was nothing you couldn’t fix, nothing you couldn’t solve.
And no problem seemed too big when you were around.
You hid your worries, always calm and always composed.
And somehow, you made sure I had everything I needed, even if it meant putting yourself second.
Sure you were tough sometimes and awkward too with your words.
But somehow, your love always reached me.
The way you’d ask “ghar pohanch gaye?”
How you’d smile whenever I did something right.
I noticed more than you think. The silver in your hair, the gold in your heart.
And all the love you gave without ever asking for anything in return.
You were, and will always be, my first Muhafiz.
Muhafiz Odhni for the fathers and the father figures who gave us more than we’ll ever know.
