A composition
cannot express the pain of the scribe, albeit words have tremendous power. Still mankind tries to soothe the sufferings through words. The proverb is wrong. Time does not heal all wounds. It merely softens
the pain and blurs memories. At times, a petite and banal object brings
back torrent of memories. Brings back all the pain and turns old wounds green. Especially when
it is about a departure, about a separation. The epiphany is
overwhelming. A soulful dirge plays in the ears. Tears roll down the eyes. Heart beat drops. Hands shake a bit. Body feels a cold. The shivering head lifts towards the sky, tears-filled eyes see a vague face of the departed smiling in the Heaven. And a blink of eyes to clear the fuzzy image of the gone, takes away everything again, just to give more pain.
Just days back I lost you. We might not be good friends, as many would say, but I
know that it was because of your toilsome life. I know you loved your
swagger of an aficionado father and businessman but towards the end of
your life, you was a wry person. Pain shapes a man into a warrior. Three
coronary stents, two angioplasties, bearing four heart attacks,
numerous angina attacks and several emotional bruises from your loved
ones, you didn't stopped jesting and actively participating for our
dreams. During your last days but you were too expressive during these days. You feared everything although you had been a warrior throughout your life. You calculated too much during these days. I know you were a risk-taker in your time. I saw tears in your eyes just because of some lyrics of a daughter to her parents. You always had been extremely pragmatic in your youth. You cried because of your loved ones. I never saw you cry before this. May be Almighty wants you to bear all your pain in this ephemeral world.
I
know it is too late to confess but you are my legend. I know we always
debated. You never liked my driving and I never trusted your driving
skills. You never cherished my music list but I always played it. You
wanted a simple drive and I wanted to alter our vehicles. You wanted me
to be a doctor and I disliked this field to the extent of extreme hate.
You wanted a conventional approach towards your business and I always
wanted to upgrade it. And many altercations on different topics which
ended by you on your key note of "tenu mere nalon zayada pata???". That
is not all. We might not agree on many topics but we did share the same
blood. We both loved my cooking. We both loved books. We both loved
driving. We both had a craze of new shoes, new shades and clothes. We
both wanted Ikhlas (my elder brother) to get married. Above all your last week, in an ICU, on a stretcher, torn with wounds and bruises of your surgery, with a varicose body, still you were a prismatic person. We talked about everything. From your nurses and doctors (fucktards) to establishing a new library in our house, to your new business venture. And then the last day,,, I cannot forget how you held my hands me to stay with you but I, alas I, I did not realized it was the last time you were asking for something. When I came back to you, your eyes were closed. I tried but you did not hold my hand. Now after I had lost
the" both" part of my avocations, I really want to feel that gentle pressure of your wounded hands again on my hand.
Dad, I know you
must be reading it in the Sheol. Be happy there!!! Your ladaa is down
here to take care of your Queen, your princesses and your crazy prince.
May Almighty shower his blessings on you as He did during your life time
here with us.(Amin) and just to let you know, your watch is safe with
me and it exactly fits my wrist. Hope you don't mind me wearing it.
With a lot of prayers and tears!!!
Your Ladaa.
