Writter: Salam Noor
A Conversation with Raza!
Raza often visited my brother, sometimes for political gatherings, but more often out of affection for him.
I had only heard about him: that he was from Teertej, affiliated with BSO Azad, and engaged in political activities—delivering speeches and performing organizational tasks. I had never met him, though I had seen his pictures and heard stories. And now, all that remains is this story. In the end, we all become stories.
Whenever Raza came to our house, I was usually not there—sometimes at school, other times out playing. Often, he was near me, yet I remained unaware of it. If I say he was hiding in plain sight, I wouldn’t be wrong. I now see this as both an unfortunate coincidence and a reflection of the political foresight of the martyr Raza Jahangir. Back then, I was young, and both Raza and my brother chose not to involve me in their conversations.
Yet, Raza often inquired about me. “How is Warna (the young one, me)? Where is he studying? What is he studying?” He would always send his greetings through my brother, along with a message: “Tell him to study hard.” Every time I received his greetings, I felt immense joy. I would smile for a long time, amused and happy. Beyond being a political leader, Raza was a gentle and kind-hearted man.
The first time I saw him was on the roadside near our home. I don’t remember the exact date, but it was sometime between 2010 and 2013.
One evening, I had gone to buy groceries. On my way back, I saw a man standing beside a motorcycle. The engine was off. I passed him, then paused, questioning myself: “Who is this man? What does he want? Is his motorcycle broken? Maybe it’s out of petrol?” After a moment, I turned back, walked toward him, and greeted him.
Me: “Hello, why are you standing here? Do you need help?”
Raza (laughing): “Ah, you came back, huh?” He smiled, then kissed my forehead and hugged me.
I was shocked. “I’m sorry, sir—I didn’t recognize you!”
He replied, “The most distinguishable feature of a human being is their eyes. A person can always be recognized through them. When you passed by, I lowered my gaze to avoid being noticed. That’s why you didn’t recognize me. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault; I did it deliberately.”
Me: “Come with me, sir. There are many passersby; someone might see you. That wouldn’t be safe.”
Raza: He smiled softly and replied, “I’m waiting for Kamash (my elder brother). Once he arrives, we’ll continue our journey. You may go now.”
Me: “Okay, sir.”
He hugged me again, and we exchanged goodbyes. To be honest, in that moment, I felt a brief anger, why had he hidden from me? But his behavior reflected the wisdom and discipline of a true political leader, a man of intellect and awareness.
Raza, you are and will always be missed.
He was a lover of knowledge, humble, and deeply connected to students. He symbolized struggle, consciousness, and the essence of being Baloch. He was truly alive, fully human.
That brief encounter was both our first and last meeting. As long as I live, I will remember it. Now, I can only lament: If only I had spent years and decades with you.
Red Salute to the Martyr.
