How can she expect me to tell her how much I need her and how much I will miss her? Have I ever sat her down poured my heart out before her? No. It's just so hard for me to all of a sudden express. Kiya sawal bhi paida hota hai aisi baat sochnay ka kay how much my life is depended upon her? It's there because of her. You can't, however, just all of a sudden formulate sentences and approach. You just can't.
I am writing her a letter per day until the day of her flight, and intend to place them in her luggage without the mention; these are letters of my everyday happenings or my thoughts over some issue she has no interest in that I often [read always] force her to listen. She doesn't actually listen. Well, she hates it when I say this, so she listens, she listens to every word I say. And then she would at times, 'very rarely', walk out on my detailed version of simple occurrences. She would 'very rarely' tell me to be quiet and leave. She would 'very very rarely' even tell me to come to her later. I would babble my stories out any way, resting my head on her legs asking her to caress my hair upon which she would rebuke and question:
"Kabhi hamaray pair dabanay ki taufeeq kiyun nahi hoti tumhain?"
I would then laugh and tell her, "Aap ko hukum karna parhega us kay liye."
I have always been the rational, unyielding, sarcastic, loud, sab se ziyada naseehatain hasil karnay wala attached in a cold but profoundly deep way sort of a child. I have some peculiarities to myself that I offer my relation with her to make it just mine, but those are so diminutive, somethings she might not even recognise to be missing. On the contrary, I spend hours talking to her whether she is responding or not, hours addressing her lying beside her on her bed specially when she makes it clear she needs to rest. She is always in my prayers. I am terrible with long distance relationships. I don't want to lose this. But I can't tell her that because they need her now. I have had her for the time I needed her.
The truth is I can never stop wanting to have her around me. How can I? I have always had her with me ever since my inception. The softeness of the sound of her two gold bangles tinging. The sight of her reciting Quran in the living room. The little steel container from the paan daan of roasted fennel she keeps on her bedside. The accuracy with which she would fix the sheet on her bed before sitting on it and after getting off of it. How she would have pots with crazy-yummy food ready everyday on the stoves before we return from school. The smell of one of her rich perfumes she keeps in her cupboard. The red dust on the dressing table before evening tea. The warm blows of dumm she would bless us with after every namaz.
I have started having my 'goodbye issues' with her. And they are taking their toll. It's like I am making room forecasting the emptiness, pushing things away to let nothingness infuse in my surroundings before hand. I tell her words of how all right I am going to be, unnecessarily, in the most non-redundant way; it is so not my thing. But I am doing that. And I think she is growing concerned.
She is so beautiful, so gentle, so giving, so selfless. And my eyes are watering. I have no words and I have been short on words for quite some time now. I hope she knows I am not just a spoiled kid who enjoys being yelled at by her everyday. I love her and appreciate her more than anyone else. And my tears are running. She runs the course of my everyday life without ever faltering. She makes me feel so protected. I am never going to have this time again, I know, because this seems like the interface to a new begining, a new turn that life is assuming. And I am wiping my tears. With the speed life tends to move these days I don't know where I'll be the next second. And I feel I could have had more to my bonding with her, more from my side. I hope she knows.
Allah meri Maa ko salamat rakhay. Ameen.
She never reads my posts.
Lol.
*blows her nose in the tissue
I am writing her a letter per day until the day of her flight, and intend to place them in her luggage without the mention; these are letters of my everyday happenings or my thoughts over some issue she has no interest in that I often [read always] force her to listen. She doesn't actually listen. Well, she hates it when I say this, so she listens, she listens to every word I say. And then she would at times, 'very rarely', walk out on my detailed version of simple occurrences. She would 'very rarely' tell me to be quiet and leave. She would 'very very rarely' even tell me to come to her later. I would babble my stories out any way, resting my head on her legs asking her to caress my hair upon which she would rebuke and question:
"Kabhi hamaray pair dabanay ki taufeeq kiyun nahi hoti tumhain?"
I would then laugh and tell her, "Aap ko hukum karna parhega us kay liye."
I have always been the rational, unyielding, sarcastic, loud, sab se ziyada naseehatain hasil karnay wala attached in a cold but profoundly deep way sort of a child. I have some peculiarities to myself that I offer my relation with her to make it just mine, but those are so diminutive, somethings she might not even recognise to be missing. On the contrary, I spend hours talking to her whether she is responding or not, hours addressing her lying beside her on her bed specially when she makes it clear she needs to rest. She is always in my prayers. I am terrible with long distance relationships. I don't want to lose this. But I can't tell her that because they need her now. I have had her for the time I needed her.
The truth is I can never stop wanting to have her around me. How can I? I have always had her with me ever since my inception. The softeness of the sound of her two gold bangles tinging. The sight of her reciting Quran in the living room. The little steel container from the paan daan of roasted fennel she keeps on her bedside. The accuracy with which she would fix the sheet on her bed before sitting on it and after getting off of it. How she would have pots with crazy-yummy food ready everyday on the stoves before we return from school. The smell of one of her rich perfumes she keeps in her cupboard. The red dust on the dressing table before evening tea. The warm blows of dumm she would bless us with after every namaz.
I have started having my 'goodbye issues' with her. And they are taking their toll. It's like I am making room forecasting the emptiness, pushing things away to let nothingness infuse in my surroundings before hand. I tell her words of how all right I am going to be, unnecessarily, in the most non-redundant way; it is so not my thing. But I am doing that. And I think she is growing concerned.
She is so beautiful, so gentle, so giving, so selfless. And my eyes are watering. I have no words and I have been short on words for quite some time now. I hope she knows I am not just a spoiled kid who enjoys being yelled at by her everyday. I love her and appreciate her more than anyone else. And my tears are running. She runs the course of my everyday life without ever faltering. She makes me feel so protected. I am never going to have this time again, I know, because this seems like the interface to a new begining, a new turn that life is assuming. And I am wiping my tears. With the speed life tends to move these days I don't know where I'll be the next second. And I feel I could have had more to my bonding with her, more from my side. I hope she knows.
Allah meri Maa ko salamat rakhay. Ameen.
She never reads my posts.
Lol.
*blows her nose in the tissue
Loveliest post ever.:)
ReplyDeleteLike I said;Parents are the real heroes.:)
Beshak. Beshak.
ReplyDelete