Rest in Peace, O Sanama

Phir kuch iss dil ko beqarari hai….Seena zoya-e-zakhm-e-kari hai. 

I wretchedly mourn the latest tragedy in the air, precious lives lost and the complete destruction of my country’s once finest institution – PIA. May Allah give strength to those left behind for theirs is the toughest trial – to bear, collect, reconstruct and prosper against all odds. Not for the fainthearted is Sabr-e-Jameel.

But I mourn more. As I sit here listening to “O Sanama” for the nth time, the deepest sorrow grips my heart and the tears flow with abandon. I mourn the death of perhaps my last connection to youthful, romantic times – Junaid Jamshed. I could not imagine that the passing, no matter how tragic, of a man whose “conversion” I never fully reconciled with, whose sometimes thoughtless televangelism exasperated me, who somehow was no more Uncle Jamshed Akbar’s son as I knew him nor the handsome young lead singer of Vital Signs as all of us knew him, could evoke such deep melancholy in me. But here I am, feeling cheated and affronted that JJ was taken from us in the prime of his life.

I needed more time to digest his transformation, I wanted to confront him some day and ask what drove him to make the driving remark, I wish he knew that “O Sanama” reminds me of Razi, that I believe “Multazim pe Dua” was his heart’s voice, that his “Qaseeda” is the most heart touching of all, that I beam with pride when I see a J. shop anywhere in the world, that his phenomenal accomplishments are too many to encompass in a short note. Now that I have taken some time to think through Junaid’s extraordinary life, I am overwhelmed by all that he achieved at such a young age. How much more could he have done were he given some more time. Damn PIA!


Yes yes, I know, JJ would say that this is Allah’s choice and he goes a grateful, humble “Ashiq e Rasool”. Regardless, someone somewhere has GOT to ask the obvious question; why are compromised flying machines with questionable maintenance so often the carriers to such destiny?


For the past several years I, like most Pakistanis, have been preoccupied with his transformed avatar, the religious evangelist. Whether on this side of it or that, we have had much to say about what we love or hate about JJ. One thing has never diminished in his life; the following. Handsome young musician, gifted and business savvy designer, imposing and opinionated televangelist – he has had us eating out of his hands one way or the other. 

Along the way, we seem to have put his original music aside, which is regretful. He probably preferred this, certainly he seemed happy with his newly acquired audience, equally devoted to him as were the earlier lot whom he abandoned. I cannot imagine a Pakistani whose life events are not connected with one or other of JJ’s songs. Memories come flooding back, of happier times with “Aitbaar” playing on repeat as we drove along the motorway, of full throated “Dil Dil” chorus with little Muns and Mur, of “Amreeka ke na Japan ke…Hum to hain deewane Multan ke” becoming a slogan of sorts, of “Tumhara Aur Mera Naam” being the original breakup song, and – for me, most of all – “Teri tasveerien, teri tehreerein…Ghar mein mere phaila hua hai yehi samaan” that transcribed my broken heart. Here come the tears again.

As I sit here, now moving on to “Ilahi Teri Chaukhat Par” and “Mere Dil Badal Dai” - JJ’s life-songs, I am grateful for the appreciation I feel for these gems equally as much as I did his earlier music.  Indeed Allah was generous with this golden child for granting him the opportunity to remain connected with his beloved music despite the choice he made to abandon a particular kind. JJ was ubiquitous; TV, social media, designer clothing, accessories. But as I write this fangirl memoriam, all his other personas recede into the background and I recall only the Junaid of my youth, the PAF brat whom the Air Force was so proud of, who was king of our music world and whose songs Razi, our children and I loved. This is how I will always remember him – guitar in hand, brown eyes sparkling, tall and handsome, soft voice urging me along “Kyun na chunein woh raasta…Jiss per nahin koi gaya”. How many of us he inspired to take the path less travelled!

Go with Allah JJ. There was much I disagreed with you on, but there was more I appreciated about you, and yet more I should have given you credit for.  I am grateful for the music you gave us as well as the spiritual lessons you so earnestly and expectantly delivered. More than your words, the pathos in your voice convinced me that you were Ashiq e Rasool, and I pray that you may be received with love by the one whom you adored.

In this world, the transitory one, I hold your words to my heart, with tears; “Aitbaar bhi aa hi jaey ga, Milo to sahi….Raasta koi mil hi jaey ga, Chalo to sahi”.

Keeping the faith.