THE Irreplaceable SOUL: Dedicated to my mother
TUM KYA GAYE KI ROOTH GAYE DIN BAHAR KE
(YOU LEFT TAKING THE GLORY ALONG)
By: Afroza Rather
Though writing in ink I am, I would love to turn every drop of my blood into ink for expressing what my mother means to me. A complete pall of gloom descended upon us and me in particular the day we came to know about the fatal ailment my mom had contracted. Not even in the wildest of my dreams had I thought that she would leave me in this abyss so soon and early. I was shattered and broken to the core. It felt like my nerves were shrinking as do the streams when winter arrives and of course it was the winter of my life approaching me. The news was brain choking and suddenly every fair looking thing turned ugly for me. I began imagining what would happen to us especially me because my relation with my mom was akin to that of the flesh and bone, the breath and the life. She was more than a friend to me, a true mentor around which my whole world revolved. For me my mother was my inspiration, an embodiment of a blooming soul. Every other thing in comparison to my mother is secondary. I relish every moment spent with her and she is no far from me nor will she ever be. Her fragrance still scintillates me and her words still reverberate in my ears. I feel her everywhere she has put her sacred feet over. Her shadow walks with me and not even for a moment I feel she is distant from me. The very fact that she is not here to hold my hand and the very truth that there was still a lot to talk, discuss and learn from her sends shivers down my spine. But courage, tolerance, endurance and forbearance is what I have inherited from her. I remember the days when we did not have the house of our own and how successfully during those tiring and testing times, she reared us is worth praise and inspiring and I know that these traits are actually the weapons that she has left for me to fight with what I have lost.
The day my mom closed her eyes to set out on the voyage from this transient cosmos to the eternal world was a complete black out. It was fifth day of the eighth month of the unfortunate year 2020, barely four days after Eid ul Azha that my mom left us in a whirlpool of tragedy and sorrows. The moment she closed her pearl eyes froze me and there was complete darkness around. All greenery around turned pale and all glitters fused out. How could I convince my heart that the whole of it was leaving it forever, never to return. I wept, I cried, I shrieked, I sobbed, even stretched my throat out to call her to come back. But it was as if my voice was roaring in the vacuum. My mom was taken away from me shrouded and laden in a coffin and all I could do was nothing. Three months are about to pass and I still remember that silence of hers. I felt like she would wake right now, turn to me and descend before me to embrace me and kiss me on my forehead which has developed dough now exactly where she used to put her lips. But death is such a painful separation that one can’t even make the regrets reach the person who passes away. I through this tribute believe that she is with me, looking at me and has forgiven me for not doing enough for her.
I love you my mom. You shall ever remain a guiding star to me.
(The author teaches at Budding Bloom Experimental School Baramulla)