In a week marked by heartbreak and uncomfortable questions surrounding the death of actor and model Humaira Asghar Ali, Durefishan Saleem is creating a space for reflection.
Posting a photo of herself with a long caption, the Ishq Murshid star didn’t mention Ali by name — but she didn’t need to. Her words read like a balm for a people reckoning with loneliness, and the many ways we fail one another.
“Been thinking about life a lot lately. Not in terms of big dreams or loud success, but in the small, quiet moments that actually make life feel real,” she began. “We spend so much time waiting for the big break, the perfect timing, the ‘it’ things. But life doesn’t wait. It’s not in the ‘when’. It’s in the now.”
Her post follows days of intense, often insensitive public commentary after the news broke that Ali’s decomposed body was discovered in her Karachi apartment, months after her passing, during a court-ordered eviction.
The timeline of her death remains uncertain pending chemical and histopathological reports, and while police say they don’t currently suspect foul play, what is certain is that she died alone, and for far too long, no one knew.
What followed was a tidal wave of grief, speculation, and scrutiny, some of it well-meaning, much of it alarmingly voyeuristic. While actors like Osman Khalid Butt and Zara Tareen rightly called out the performative and judgmental nature of much of the public response, Saleem, in her post, offered a prayer for herself and everyone.
“And death, as heavy as the word is, doesn’t come with notice,” she wrote. “It can slip in while you’re asleep, while you’re eating your favourite meal, hugging someone you love, or even on an ordinary day, playing a game you thought you’d finish.
I pray, with all my heart, that whenever it comes, for me or anyone, it doesn’t come in silence. Not in loneliness. Not in an empty room. But with love in the air. With familiar hands nearby. With someone who truly knew your heart.“
There’s a weight to that sentence in light of Ali’s story, not because Saleem’s post aims to explain it, but because it doesn’t try to. It resists turning someone’s death into a lesson or a catchy clip. It simply asks us to feel, and to hold one another close while we’re still here.
“We live in a time where people shout their opinions louder than they listen…So here’s to being aware. To choose kindness, even when it’s quiet. To hold space for yourself and for others. To check in and to look beyond filters and feeds.”
Amid the flood of online “inspiration” posts and grief-as-performance content that has followed Ali’s death, Saleem’s post feels grounded in the idea that not everything has to be dissected to be meaningful. That the true antidote to loneliness and neglect is not a viral quote but quiet care.
“Here’s to a life beyond just success. A life that doesn’t need to be posted to matter. A life that feels real even in its quiet, unseen parts. Here’s to the ordinary, beautiful seconds not driven by desire but grounded in peace. Not for the world, but for the soul. Here’s to life as it is, as it comes, as it’s happening,” she concluded.
In a time when even mourning can feel curated, Saleem’s reflection reminds us of the kind of life we should wish for one another. Not one marked by metrics or media cycles, but by moments that feel real.
