Azhar’s Tragedy is Our Tragedy

Marriage brings a change in some people, much more than they expected. But the event that completely transforms almost everyone is when people become parents. This sudden and drastic change is not difficult to understand. The day one becomes a parent is the day there’s another life you are responsible for. Out of this responsibility grows a fear, a fear that seizes every parent from Day One. It is the fear of losing one’s child. It is this fear that is top most in every parent’s mind overriding every other fear, even one’s own death. It is this fear that leads us to do or not to do a lot of things. This is the fear that gives the sort of nightmares that the parent wishes and prays does not ever come true. So when another parent goes through that nightmare, one involving the death of one’s child it is hard not to feel the grief.


There were quite a few occasions when I’ve been moved to tears on learning about the death of strangers, especially children. But this was the first time I found it difficult to stop the tears. Last Friday when I learnt that Azharuddin’s son had died I couldn’t help becoming terribly depressed. There was something about that tragedy that affected me very much. I don’t know Azharuddin personally and I had not seen any picture of Ayazuddin, his son, until last week. But I followed the news about the youngster in the hospital anxiously. Like everyone I hoped he would come out safely. More than anything I hoped he’d survive, that he’d live. But he didn’t, and it was hard to accept.

Usually, for parents it is common to feel sad when something bad happens to other children of their own kids’ age. As a parent of a thirteen year old kid I am not different. The sorrow and the grief arises from imagining what that young boy must have gone through all those days when he was in hospital unable to talk with anyone, trapped in a fearful darkness he couldn’t understand. I shudder to think how he must have tried to communicate his terror to those who were around him, hoping he’d somehow live. I feel very sorry for the two kids who died too young.

If a total stranger like me is unable to come to terms with it I really do not know how Azhar’s family will live with it. Not only will Azhar find it difficult to come to terms with his tragedy there will be another thing he might have to deal with- guilt. When something goes wrong with one’s kids the first thought that the parents have is ‘am I responsible in anyway for it?’ It will be tough for the families to live with the grief as well as the guilt all their lives.

But I wish all of us parents with young kids realize certain things. I hope we make our kids realize that they mean more than anything to us. I hope we tell all our kids the truth about alcohol, drugs, and the risky behavior that goes with it. It isn’t that we should not trust our children but one is not sure what will happen the next moment. I hope we make them realize that until they come back home we live in a state of fear. I hope we teach them that life is more important than anything, more important than going at high speeds. I wish we could teach them to stop and listen to what the traffic cops tell you all the time that ‘speed thrills but also kills.’

I hope we realize our responsibilities as parents and say no to certain things that our kids demand. I hope we know what they are and tell them where we draw the line.