Remembering Turkey

Published November 27, 2020

THE Dawn supplement on the National Day of Turkey (Oct 29) struck a chord with me and took me down the memory lane, and I would like to share an anecdote with the readers.

The year was 1956. The Pakistan Air Force (PAF) headquarters issued an operation order to transport a Pakistan Army pipe band which was to take part in the Turkish National Day parade at Ankara. The transport squadron at PAF Lahore detailed two Bristol Freighters for the task, and I was captain of one of the planes.

The main event of the parade was our pipe band, and it received a standing ovation.

We were feted at the public reception held later in the evening. The Turkish Air Force took over and we were requested to be their guest for another week. Istanbul, Konya and Bursa were included in our itinerary. Bursa is the capital of ancient Turkey and is famous for its roses and towels. What happened here is forever imprinted in my memory.

The whole city was bursting with a riot of colours and fragrance because of the roses.

At about 4pm on the day that we arrived there, I received a call from the hotel reception that someone wanted to talk to the PAF ‘captain’. I proceeded downstairs wondering who would be visiting me.

I saw a middle-aged person holding a parcel waiting for me. With the hotel receptionist acting as the interpreter, he narrated a story.

The man was part of the Turkish army contingent that had participated a few years earlier in our Independence Day parade held in Karachi.

He had fallen ill and was admitted to a military hospital. There, Khudadad, a Pakistan Army soldier who was in the bed next to his, befriended him. Before he left Pakistan, Khudadad took him to his home where he was treated as a family member. Now he wanted me to take this parcel containing the famous Bursa towels to Khudadad.

I explained to the gentleman that without proper information about his Pakistani friend, I would not be able to locate him. Upon hearing this, he picked up the parcel, thanked me and left, and I went up to my room.

When I came down for dinner, the receptionist stopped me. She told me that when I had gone to my room the person returned and handed the parcel to her, asking her to give it to me later as a gift. He left without giving any contact or address. I was overcome with emotion.

After returning to Pakistan, I got in touch with the GHQ to inquire about Khudadad, but did not succeed in finding him. Needless to say, my family adored the gift and it remained with us for many years!

Aijazuddin
Karachi

Published in Dawn, November 27th, 2020

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