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My dear children, my flesh and blood:

Hiba, Altamush and Maroof...

One day, I am sure, God-willing,

you will fathom my love for you.



It is not in my nature to praise myself,

And whatever I have done for you,

But I do thank my God Allah Almighty,

That I have done what all I could do.



I remember you my dearest first-born Maroof,

And all those good times I and you shared,

In Pindi, Lahore and then in Dubai,

Your childhood days and how your were raised.



How you used to dance when you listened to songs,

Songs shown on the television screen,

Your innocent pranks and the way you stared,

At the tubelight whenever some moths were seen.



And can I ever forget those days,

In Lahore when you played with water,

Like a baby dolphin longing to plunge,

And enjoy the feel of the lapping waves!



How you would cry out whenever you heard,

The clarion call at pre-dawn time,

And never sleep till I sung you songs,

And lull you to your grand dreamland!



And remember my dear first-born son,

How you fought with your teddy bear?

As if it was there to divide the love,

The love I had in my heart for you.



And your walks with me when in Dubai,

Altamush was ready to join us there,

How you would not let go of me,

Thinking I would leave you without a care.



And Altamush, my second son, when you came,

That was the time when I rose to fame,

My literary works were read and praised,

And wealth too God gave along with name.



You were the quite opposite of Maroof,

Mischievous, tricky and somehow more quiet,

You never cried out for milk or in fright,

You were in your own way smart and bright.



And I hope you remember that December night,

In Dubai when Hiba too decided to come,

And be my daughter and your sweet sister,

She was sent by God like a ray of light.



Her girlish ways and her lovely face,

Was always for me a comforting grace,

Blessed on me by my Creator,

Hiba and you with joy filled my days.



Yes, whatever joys that I got then,

Came from you two and Hiba only,

I was never alone when you three came,

And your happiness was my foremost aim.



And even now when several years have passed,

You three my dearest children will stay,

As one of the main reasons behind my joys,

And the cause for making me work and play.



You will never be able to gauge my love,

The fatherly affection I have for you,

Until the day when you three also,

Will become fathers and mother too.



Then, perhaps you might find some time,

To pause and ponder and recall the past,

The days and nights when your loving father,

Spent with you and what he got and lost.



Destiny is written by Allah my children,

What He writes cannot be undone,

By us mortals or even the angels,

For He alone knows His best reason.



Maybe I have not measured up to your level,

Or have fulfilled, as you three think quite often,

My role as a father who loved and cared,

And did all he could do for his moon and suns.



But I am sure that God-willing,

When you wake up in the dead of night,

And have to get up for the sake of your child,

You may recall the days when you held me tight.



And this too I believe will surely happen,

Whenever your toddlers will be stealing your time,

And complaining more often as they grow,

You will think more wisely and clearly then.