It is like a bad dream which won’t go away. How do you contemplate losing a brother? How do you get on with your life when you’ve lost a piece of it? How?
Every day I miss my little, baby brother. Just looking at the doors in the house remind me of him, thinking he’s going to walk through them any moment or just take a peek inside (he used to do that a lot, he used to stick his head in a room just to see who was in there and whether to enter or not). Or when I’m standing outside my house I think I’ll see him walking up from the park with his friends. How do I even try to describe the pain of losing the youngest member of my family? The only thing that gives me comfort is knowing that he’s in a better place, that he’s with our Prophet Sallallaahu ‘alaihi wa aalihii wasallam, that’s what gives me comfort.
Friends describe him as someone who was never interested in driving, but he was a lad so an interest in cars was a must. However, driving (and for him when he drove for the first time) cost him his life... and a piece of his family’s too.
I was woken early in the morning around 2 o’clock by my sister-in-law who was frantic, saying that Waqar had been in a car accident and was in hospital. I thought she was surely mistaken. I asked her again and she confirmed what I had heard the first time. The family all rushed to hospital. As we were driving towards the hospital I prayed like I had never prayed before. I begged Almighty Allah to keep my brother safe, and if his time was up then to grant him my life instead, to take my life if a life was required. We got to the hospital too late, he had gone. I got to hold his hand one last time; his hands were cold and his arm still warm. It was like he was sleeping and as if mum would call him any minute and tell him to get up for college. I couldn’t help but break down and cry, even though I knew no matter what I did he was not going to come back. No matter how hard I cry and beg Almighty Allah, he’s not coming back.
He had a car accident and because he was not wearing a seat belt the air bag did not inflate. He sustained internal injuries and a severe blow to the head and leg. At the age of 17 his life on Earth had ended.
Hopefully, there are lessons here for the younger generation - you may be an only child, you may be the youngest, the middle child, or even the eldest, but you mean something to your family, you mean something to your parents. So if you don’t care about yourself or anybody else just have that little care about the people who brought you into this world; your parents.
My brother’s death has had a huge impact on the people he has left behind. There is a void in my house, in my family and in our lives that will always be there now; a hole that nothing or no one will ever fill. The moment that he got in that car changed all our lives permanently. Getting in a car to go somewhere is something most of us do without much thought, but it cost my brother’s life and left his loved ones grieving.
Most of us don’t really think of death as seriously as we should. Death in reality doesn’t have an age attached to it - it can come get us, and surprise us and those around us, any time. We may not like to think death will happen to us or our loved ones but my family is proof that nobody is immune and it can strike anyone at any time. I really wish it doesn’t take a death in the family for others to prioritise what’s important to them and change their perspective on life.
The status of death is permanent. Once you die that’s it, there’s no coming back, there’s no undo button you can click, it is the end in this dunya as we know it. The person is gone but they leave behind others to whom they meant so much. Our loved ones are a part of our own lives, they make us what we are, so their loss will be felt forever.
Memories are all I have now – from the day he came into this world to the day he left. Bittersweet memories, that’s all I have.
On that fateful day friends lost a friend, colleagues lost a colleague, cousins lost a cousin, nephew and nieces lost an uncle, his brothers lost their youngest brother (the laadla of the family), and most of all a mother and a father lost a child; their youngest son.
Waqar Ahmed Alyas passed away in the same way his eldest brother did, with his hand in his father’s hand.
Truly, to Allah we belong and truly, to Him we shall return. [Quran: Chapter 2, Verse 156]
By An older brother