Remembering Annie Ramday

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I knew Annie as a sister and even now carry in my being her scent, her touch and her love. Her arguments and her laughter in all her shrill and force still ring in my ears. Her imprint on my life is deep and everlasting while my mother tended to my younger brother, Annie tended to me. She was my sister, a companion and a friend, a bond that lasted her lifetime and its feel and flavour still lingers on.

She was free spirited who held her own, spoke her mind and kept a low profile. She cared for no lordly title, nor was she a slave to any worldly possessions and positions. And when her time came, she quietly slipped away into the unknown world leaving behind a handwritten note in the hands of her husband who sat by her asking him to assume hereto the responsibility of taking care of her family.

When faced with a situation where her husband was deprived of his title and his job, without salary and cut off from the rest of the world, I found her steadfast and supportive.

A year later, alone with me, she wished once, that the President should have known better than to block the outpouring of people’s protest. He would be so bound and shackled that he would suddenly find himself denied of space, of sympathy and of shelter, alone, a wonderer, with the burden of his worldly possessions on his back, bitter and lamenting, until he melts away. And when it comes her time too, she would face him and ask what had the young Registrar done to be so murdered and what had her son done to be so hounded, and what had her husband done to suffer so, and what had she done to bear the year’s house arrest with her family.

She was proud of the Lawyers Movement but reflected once, “How can I not be reminded of the stuff most men are made of?” When in the future, the battle would be won, and passion would cool and there would be time to reflect as always, hunger for recognition and greed will overtake the nobility of cause visible in the movement. Most of these would shrink in their size, driven only by their desire for possession and power. These lofty ideas, only a few would retain in their bosoms. She hoped she did not live that long to see the lofty names groan under their own weight. Surely, she lived but not long after restoration of her husband. But her foresight and her forthright expressions endeared her to all in the family. I still remember her warmly with affection as a sister and a friend; its an imprint that will last my lifetime. For others?

SEEMA ZAHID

Lahore