KARACHI: For a moment you are taken aback when meeting the calm and collected couple. It has only been a little over a week since they lost their eldest son — Captain Syed Haider Abbas who embraced martyrdom while he was in hot pursuit of terrorists in a hideout near District Kohlu in Balochistan on Feb 20.

“It took us just a minute, or perhaps even less, to bear the shock. We are extremely proud of our son,” says the father, Syed Abbas Hassan.

Nusrat Zehra, the mother, gets up to prepare tea at her Gulistan-i-Jauhar apartment. When requested not to bother about such things, she smiles and shakes her head. “No, you are Haider’s guests. We must treat you well.”

An ardent reader, Capt Haider Abbas belonged to army’s elite Special Services Group

Haider’s brother Asad, younger by just 17 months, brings in some of his personal effects. There is his maroon commando beret, his khaki cap, rank insignias, shoulder patches, medals, his folded crisp camouflage uniform, his books ... Edward W. Said’s Orientalism, Noam Chomsky and C.J. Polychroniou’s The Precipice: Neoliberalism, the Pandemic, and the Urgent Need for Radical Change, Dostoevsky’s Crime And Punishment with a bookmark on page 36 ... and his last air ticket, which got his remains here. “He would let me keep his tickets,” says the brother.

“Haider had with him some 52 books in Balochistan and there are another 150 to 200 at his battalion headquarters back in Attock.

“Haider was an ardent reader. At 14, he had read all of my books,” his father informs.

But reading was only one of his passions. The others included swimming and admiration for the uniform.

He learned swimming at four. “His Montessori school had a swimming pool in the basement. Although it did not have any diving board, it could not stop little Haider from diving. He used to climb up his instructor’s shoulders and dive into the pool from that position,” his mother, a formal Montessori schoolteacher, shares. “Then his next educational institution, the Habib Public School, also had a very good pool as did his Cadet College.”

About Haider’s love for the uniform, his father shares that he used to really look up to his paternal grandfather, who was in the Air Force followed by his joining Pakistan Customs.

“We have encouraged all our five children to follow their heart when it comes to choosing a profession. It was in 2009 when Haider was in class seven at Habib Public that he aired his wish to join Cadet College Larkana. I drove him to Larkana myself to let him have an idea of what life could be like there and if he was really up for it but my son was determined.

“By 2014, after passing his intermediate from there with flying colours, he joined the Pakistan Military Academy in November of 2014 and passed out from there in April, 2016. Initially, he got a commission in Air Defence. After becoming a lieutenant, there is a six-month basic infantry course following which the young officers are eligible for the Special Services Group [SSG]. Haider opted for the SSG, which he disclosed to us later. He was one hell of a commando. He joined the 6th Commando, al-Samsaam, Battalion,” his father adds.

“Born on Oct 21, 1996, he was 25 years and four months old at the time of his martyrdom. By 27, he would have become an Army Major. Always among the top few during all exams, army exercises and drills, he had so many achievements to his name throughout his student life and brief military career, but we could tell that his aim was something else. So much so that all those achievements now seem small and dull before that aim,” says his father.

“A few of his batchmates had gotten or were getting married but when I suggested looking for a suitable match for him, he stopped me from doing so. Now I understand why,” says his mother.

In her heart, she knew something was very different about 20 days before his martyrdom.

“When they were babies, we used to let our children sleep between us on the bed. But I saw my Haider sleeping between his paternal grandparents in my dream. He was injured and trying to hide his wounds as he lay there. Then I also saw the sullen faces of my parents and my husband’s in my dreams. I prayed for all my five children but suddenly when praying for Haider I would find myself at a loss for words,” she says.

His father says: “We were getting used to his postings and missions. Often he would message his brother Asad ahead of an operation. And later, if there was any communication issue and he couldn’t message, we would check his Instagram to know that he was back safe as he would usually post there. This time he was in Balochistan for nine months but had requested a couple of days off as he was looking forward to attending his PMA roommate’s wedding. At 4.30am on Feb 20, he messaged Asad asking him to find his grey suit as he wanted to wear it at the wedding. There was no Instagram post that day, only a phone call from his unit officer ...”

Published in Dawn, March 1st, 2022