THE VOICE AND THE ECHO

egacy is etched into the minds of others and th

n his remembrance. Everyone, including Ghullah, a carpet weaver who ne

g payment. But the day he came for it sa

er in a supportive environment to mourn an

avestone. The family filled with anguish held some banquet of flowers - roses. Iqbal loved roses;

erywhere the mourning eyes looked there were no smiles. Tears stain

given anything to see that day. Besides, all of his childhood buddies, church friends, fo

minutes later, she mopped her eyes dry and in the background, faintly playing, was a heart touching hymn Iqbal used to l

s and heroic feats. He successfully carved his monument in the heart of millions. And his framed photo was raised for all to view for the l

ly joined them. He even had a tear shed, bu

one, what's next? His thoughts ceased not to perch as they flew from one ima

corner, drawing all eyes towards the dir

f St. Andrew Chaplaincy, Reverend Steve Omar. A man in his mid-twenty. His comeliness could mak

sorrow and joy Today, we thank you for the life of Iqbal. For what he has given and received.

you all!' The man of God said, str

oul!' The Christians i

mily and friends, I would like to welcome everyone as we hav

y. Thank you for being here. Although the family may not remember every word we

the family and friends of the deceased. His soft voice sank into the deep belly of every heavy

hampion of freedom and justice. A hero both here on Earth and above. A voice to the voiceless. And mos

ould live every day as though it were our last. The book of James chapter 4 verses 14 pictured life as a vapour that app

a paragraph. After each day, we write a page. After each week, we write a div

hat someday we also must step from this life into another that is without end. Have it come to your

ld not be troubled. Death isn't the end. Even Jesus passed using death into the other world and came ba

nder to the cross. Surrender your life to the spotless Lamb s

ssed and strengthened the entire family of the deceased. And every

iends in school mourned him bitterly. Ike was on an empty stomach for three nights. Sofia bro

he only voice she could hear was that of Iqbal whispering some sweet nothings. Those pleasant memories kept

, the sun was timid because of such a pleasant welcome, and the blazing face tucks out behind the mountain. And it slowly emits a

came in. It was Sofia. A bouquet of fresh flowers on

. She was so sure the door was locked. And her mum hasn't returned from where she went to. She q

owers.' S

am home.' Marg

her mother. Even the blind could see that sh

you'r

Ye

reta said, wearing a bright face. 'Pl

, mo

ta said, ruffling her

rs.' Sofia added, givi

She answered. 'It was

was still deep in thought when th

' Sofia

d inquisitively. 'Who

frie

yfri

shook he head and went to the kitchen. While Sofia was admiring the bouquet, sh

e me with your presence this evening at the chapel? I would be

qb

saw the ray of the sun right before her eyes. Iqbal

s like her tongue has swollen inside her mouth and

She helped in tidying up the kitchen and washing the dishes. The world could se

ou goin

leaving to cha

Ok

with no clad before a mirror on the wall. She was explori

ckside. It was tempting. She imagined having a soul-p

at was near the chapel. They both trudged to the top of the hill, sat there and began to play. Iqbal suddenly recoile

words electrocuted Sofia. Her dreams of cou

have your dinner.

- the voice of her mother. The chains of her thoughts were cut off - a

ter, sweet dove?'

len

she piped. 'Remember t

need some s

ng her on the forehead. 'But always know t

or slam

o the dining. While at the table, she was staring at the food with no ap

ging to the string of a wolf's tooth around her