9 March 2020
why can I still hear the chord echoing through again and again at 1:09 and 1:32? because I always will, because I want to.
This morning, I woke up after watching you smile and laugh in amusement at our efforts at trying to be home in a way different from what you had foretold. That gleam in your eyes, dancing with a secret only you are privy to – that really made me happy, Nani Jaan. And you know that because I think that’s why we met today. Haina?
I’m just so grateful now… I look back and I’m terrified to feel the fears hiding behind that facade of bravery; those shivers running down my soul, my own breath choking me. Very much like how I feel when I’m walking to the female cardiac ward on the third floor to see a patient who has been accomodated there because of lack of space in the surgical general ward; the low-lying, slopy railing making me look away. Always. Do you see the similarity? Walking to a make-do place, hesitantly, unwillingly.
But you were right back then! I know that now, deep down. And even though I’m swimming in a slow current of uncertainty, I’m at peace because I’m waiting for good and wonderful things to happen, the kind of happiness I’ve been longing and praying for. The difference is that this time, I’ll be more patient.
Back when I was just a little girl who loved to read, I bought this book from the annual book-sale at Paramount. I forgot what it was called. But it was about this family who ran a circus and travelled all over the country in colourful caravans. One day, as the show was running, a young girl was spotted watching the show from afar. There was a longing on her face, a sparkle only children her age can afford to have, a desire for simply being happy and clapping her hands. Now years later, I can feel that same longing: standing far away from it, wishing it success, waiting for some Divine intervention to magically make me a part of it. It’s a little funny, I know. But it’s the truth. It probably seems like a cowardly thing to do but you and I both know that for me, it’s probably more courage than I have ever given myself credit for.
I’m just happy to be free from that fear now; that crippling fear of writing with a new ink, of learning a new language. I don’t think I’ll ever complain to Him about anything ever again because it’s the biggest hug from Him to be able to see the wisdom behind our story. Alhamdullillah always.
We’ve missed you. Thank you for not giving up on me ever and for being our guardian angel.