On vacation in a village, like any 15-year-old boy, he was having fun swimming around in a canal. Unaware of the depth of the canal, he dived and hit his head where the depth was no more than two-and-a-half feet. Sarmad survived miraculously, but the fateful accident left him paralysed waist downward; restricting his life to a wheelchair.

But Sarmad had the fiery spirit of a sportsman, always willing to fight, ready to contest; the accident may have bound him to a wheelchair but could hardly constrain his tremendous willpower to test and compete against his own fears and limitations.

He became a world record holder for driving a hand-controlled car non-stop for 33 hours (covering a distance of 1,847 km from Karachi to Khyber); the first wheelchair bound athlete to participate in the Lahore Marathon (completing it in 7.5 hours) and hence qualifying to represent his country in the New York Marathon 2005 (and bagging a finisher’s medal). Sarmad Tariq showed to the world that a real sports person excels not because of just a fit body; but because of the fire within. He truly inspired the world not only with his motivational talks but by being a role model, rightly earning himself the status of a spirited trail blazer and remained the ultimate fighter till the very end.

“He always said (and I second that) he was ‘just a tough act to follow’, but he was my whole life …”

Zehra Kamal, Sarmad’s life partner for so many years, sharing his suffering and joys, his smiles and sighs, his struggle and achievements stayed with him till the very end.

“His last days were tough but he was a true fighter,” Zehra says softly.

The ever smiling ‘chairman’ (as he was lovingly called) who would give you a smile and a thumbs up sign even when he had a branula in his neck, a ventilator going through his trachea, a tube in his nose, a catheter in his bladder, another tube in his right kidney, an abscess in his liver, a bed sore on his back …

But even then, bearing the heights of pain and agony, he would welcome you with the most radiant of smiles and when enquired how he was feeling, would always respond with, “Zabardast!” or “First class!”

“He wanted to be a boxer (in his younger days and before the accident) and would secretly, without the knowledge of his parents, go to a boxing club. He would often recall how it felt and what a challenge it was to face punches from the opponent, especially close to the nose, without losing your grip and keeping your feet steady.

“Standing at his bedside, seeing him deal with unimaginable suffering with utmost dignity, I felt like he was in a boxing ring, facing all the punches without letting his grip go and remaining steady.”

Zehra lowers her moist eyes but a faint smile quivers on her lips.

“His reactions as he put up with the day to day complications surprised the doctors and nursing staff, as one of them remarked, ‘In my entire practice I have only seen two amazingly surprising minds, first was Mr M.M. Alam’s, and the second is yours’…”

Who was Sarmad to you?

I asked Zain Sahi, one of Sarmad’s closest buddies.

“I don’t have the vocabulary to answer this.”

He blinked a number of times as if collecting his thoughts, wondering where to start from.

“Sarmad was a brother, my best friend, my staunchest support, my harshest critic, my guide, my inspiration, my guru, my motivation, my cushion, my teacher. And what was most amazing was that he meant as much, if not more, to scores of others as well. He was Superman!”

Ask anyone who had had the chance to know or was linked to Sarmad in any capacity and you would get a definite endorsement.

“He was so clear about everything and had the best solution for everyone’s problems,” says Usama Zafar, one of Sarmad’s cousins.

“There was always a clear cut, stark, black and white way charted out by him; no greys, no muddled corridors, no ifs and buts with Sarmad Bhai. He would listen to you like you and him were the only people alive on earth, and then advise in such a convincing manner that you really couldn’t think of any other better option; and there really wasn’t any other better option; his was the best, always!”

Zehra nods in confirmation. “Yes. He always had time for just about anyone who wanted advice, ideas, or just wanted his company no matter how unwell, tired or exhausted he was at any time in his life. Everyone who knew him or had met him even once had a special connection with him.”

Sarmad valued and loved Zehra. On her birthday (Jan 15, 2014) he wrote:

‘When I am weak and need strength; when I feel lost and need a guide; when I am confused and need to find some sense in life; when I am scared and want reassurance; when I am alone and need company; when I am sad and need to smile; when I am about to give up and need encouragement; when I am close to falling and need support; even when I am having a great day and need nothing more than a partner to share it with; in all these times I find you and it is always enough.

Happy Birthday Zehra! My strength, my guide, my sense in life, my reassurance, my company, my smile, my encouragement, my support, my partner! May you live a long and blessed life.”

Zehra smiles as she remembers.

“He was my true soul mate, friend and someone I am truly proud of. He was always there to encourage and support me to do things that I had always wanted to do. He taught me how to face my fears and he took great pride in the fact that I did overcome them. He respected me as an individual and would always make sure that his physical limitations did not limit my own professional growth in any way …”

She paused for a while, and spoke again.

“He had a thing for all wheels; be it bikes, cars, jeeps, anything! And then he was always so excited at getting new gadgets and to get new gadgets even for me!”

She closes her eyes for a moment as if secluding herself from the world to be with his memories all by herself.

“I often told him that when I see him go through so much physical pain and challenges, it amazes me every time and makes me love and respect him more with each passing day …”

True, Sarmad was an embodiment of fortitude and positivism which was undoubtedly God gifted, but on meeting both his immediate and extended family, one could not help but notice that they shared a rare trait of love and mutual bonding, which you hardly come across these days. So it is not difficult to see where Sarmad got his inner strength from.

“A selfless love for people and a welcoming nature was a part of the entire family and Bhaiya himself,” says Zahra Saleh Ahmed, Sarmad’s maternal cousin.

“And that ability to love was passed on to all three of these children.

“My mother used to say that khala (Sarmad’s late mother) only knew how to love people. She was all about pure, unadulterated love, nothing else.”

Sarmad’s mother passed away four years ago. Zain, his friend disclosed. “In his last days when Sarmad would become delirious with medicines, he kept calling out for his mother for hours. ‘Amma, Amma, Amma’.

“And a couple of days before he left us, he said he had a feeling that this was the end. His wife asked him, ‘But are you fighting?’

“He nodded his head but gestured that he had a feeling that his life would soon be over. He had so much courage, belief and faith in Allah that one felt it overflowing into those around him.”

A dear friend of ours said at his funeral, “I want to cry so hard, but I have to control myself because Sarmad wouldn't like such weakness!”

This was his legacy. He motivated people to stay strong even when he was being lowered into his grave …”

In his last blog (dated March 18th, 2014), Sarmad had said:

“Dear God, I know you don’t give anyone more than he can take, I know you wouldn’t let me break, you wouldn’t let my belief shake, but if it isn’t too much to ask, I really really need a break!”

He was a cheerful optimist who not only dealt with his own issues head on but also propagated optimism in whatever capacity he could reach out; to whosoever he could extend his views, his strength; his spirit. But more than that, he was a diehard fighter; never submissive or giving in to weaknesses and oddities that life handed over to him.

I remember once noticing a shade of disappointment (may be that sounds too alien a word to be used in reference of a man who was hope embodied) in one of his remarks on Facebook about two years back, and could not help wondering if his buoyancy had reached a saturation point.

He had said:

“As a writer you tend to see the ‘romantic’ side of things. So yes, some of my posts might appear somewhat depressing and not conforming to the ‘all magical’ motivational talk that I am supposed to deliver. But facts are facts and should be taken on merit. Especially I feel it would be very unfair to lure the young ones into a fantasy world which is but a fantasy world; so my intent would be to prepare them for reality; to think, feel; live without any illusion ...

P.S. My life and spirits are high as ever dealing with reality ... and that’s what I mean to relay to the world also.”

As his wife Zehra says, “I will miss everything about him. From his affectionate smile to the naughtiness in his eyes to the depth with which he spoke to the way he viewed life to his crazy ideas.”

I would let the ‘chairman’ have the last word:

“Do all of us sooner or later realise that we are going to die? Yes.

Do all of us eventually realise that we are alive? No.

It is tragic but true. So many die without ever knowing that they were alive ...”

You lived life as it is meant to be lived; and you passed on to scores of people whom your magical persona touched in one way or the other, a legacy; A legacy of sanguinity, fortitude and willpower that will live on and on till the end of time.

Rest assured, Sarmad Tariq, through that legacy of yours, you would live on!

Pain is temporary — pride is forever

— By Asif Jehangir Raja

“I can handle my problems very well and can face the pain; please proceed with the treatment,” Sarmad politely told the nurse, lying straight in his bed, as Zehra (Sarmad’s wife) smiled softly while Brig (Retd) Arshad Tariq (Sarmad’s father) stood firmly and gracefully, as he always does. With the door wide open, curtains partially raised, flowers and magazines spread on the table, this was Sarmad Tariq’s room at Combined Military Hospital (CMH), Rawalpindi, a few days before his sad demise, where I met him for the last time on a fine afternoon of April 2014. “Aap iss koo janey kiyon nahi deite, iss nay aur kaam bhee karnay hoon gay (why don’t you let him go, he must have other jobs at hand),” Sarmad asked his father who was busy in a discussion with me about health issues. As I left his room, he smiled, as he always did, while I saluted him back, not realising that we weren’t destined to meet again.

Yes! it was him — a quadriplegic athlete who became disabled in 1991 at the age of 16; a motivational speaker; a world record holder of the longest non-stop drive by a quadriplegic, covering a distance of 1,847 km from Khyber to Karachi in 33 hours in a ‘special-hand-controlled-car’; the first ever and only wheelchair bound athlete in Lahore Marathon who finished the race distance of 42 km in 7.5 hours on Jan 30 2005; a participant of the world’s largest marathon, ‘ING New York City Marathon 2005’ in USA; a happily married person who led a challenging life in Islamabad until he died peacefully on April 30 2014 due to multiple organs failure leading to cardiac arrest.

My acquaintance with Sarmad began in 1988 while we studied together in a school at Kharian Cantonment. A healthy, tall and quiet Sarmad was always unnoticed until he spoke or acted; so sensible and determined was he that children and teachers would equally get amazed by the colours of his personality. None of us had an idea of what he would turn out to be for his family, for the society and for the people with disabilities in the years to come. He moved to Quetta due to his father’s posting and, although I heard of the accident that led to his disability in 1991, I couldn’t get a chance to meet him. It was in January 1996, when commuting with a friend, Ahmed Nadeem Bajwa, from Pakistan Military Academy Kakul to Rawalpindi, I got a chance to meet Sarmad again who had come to receive Ahmed Bajwa in his ‘car’ at the bus stop. I was happy to meet him; was shocked to know his ordeal; and was amazed to watch him driving, laughing and charged with energy. “I will try to be useful for society till I live,” were his words when I asked about his future plans. Easy to say, but for a person who couldn’t even move his all fingers properly and who, till death, used a computer keyboard with his knuckles, it must have taken a lot to lead an independent life. But that is how Sarmad was, an individual with the ability to face down challenges, eyeball to eyeball.

Known as ‘Chairman’ in his circle, much has been written, said and told about Sarmad in the media. Everyone now knows that he was brave and talented. But more important is to know about his message: to remain useful as a citizen and to face things in life as they happen. Sharing his experiences of New York Marathon, Sarmad narrated to me and my colleague, Najia Rabbani, during an interview for Pakistan Armed Forces magazine Hilal: “Few days before the race, I fell in the washroom of a hotel and got my hip muscles ruptured. But I decided to participate in any case. People at the start point were amazed to watch a wheelchair borne athlete with the Pakistani Flag. Their good words for Pakistan encouraged me. After the initial few miles, I started to spit blood and thought to quit on health grounds. But a crowd nearby was repeatedly raising the slogan, ‘pain is temporary — pride is forever’. That was the time when I decided to reach the finish point in any case. The sounds of the crowd and their slogans still echo in my memory. I completed the marathon and came back with a participation medal.”

Sarmad Tariq has left behind a legacy for others to follow. He never bowed down in front of problems and was a source of inspiration for others. He will always remain alive in our hearts.