The Great Unravelling

 

It struck me on 27 Sept 2024. 7PM to be exact.

That my habit of going completely silent when I am upset with someone, is akin to that of Abbu's. 

He would often do that. He never spoke bad words for anyone. If somebody hurt him much he would go silent. Plain and Simple. No shenanigans. No tantrums. No absolute dramas. At All. And then he would also not talk about it. You'd never know what hurt him unless 1) you're a keen obeserver Or 2) he lets you in. With 02 being rare. I think out of us 04 I am the one who has had a glimpse of what he felt about certain things. But then I was told not to say it out loud....Ever!

It is funny that I never did dig deep to my personality ....it just dawned on me, out of nowhere, that I am his version of deep emotions (sorrow, love, anger, being a backup for someone for ever). What else dawned on me was: all 04 of us have something, some peculiar traits of Abbu.

Hiba has abbu's love for photography, Sarah has his 4D vision, she can assess life and situations in general in a split second. 

Wardah is all abbu. Her mannerism and public dealing is all Abbu. She has that softness for general masses, careful selection of words, analytical and logical reasoning. She will pump you up when you are at your lowest. Just like him!

Plea of a daughter

 Qurrato aini bika ya Rasool ALLAH s.a.w

17 Sept 2024/Tuesday/12 Rabi ul Awwal

Salawaat Ya Khatam un nabiyen

Salawaat Ya Rahmat al lil Alameen

This year....I can only offer salam and request 02 things. 

Nobody knows better than you....life of a orphan....A lifeless life... Aam ul huzn....this year has taken away my soul. The life has suddenly become void. Nothingness has sucked the soul right out of me. I am bound to say I am raazi in GOD's will. But I am only human. Ya Rasool ALLAH (s.a.w) my father has taken good care of us. Four daughters. Please do take care of him. Abundantly. Till qayamat is upon us and hereafter begins. And even after it. Give all the credit of our good work to my father and do not hold him accountable for any of my wrong doings. He recalled you as being the reformist, economist and the kind-hearted soul in the rigid climate of Arab. Please take my plea into your kind consideration and be his kind-hearted guardian till akhirah Ya Rasool ALLAH s.a.w.....your one look can change the dynamics of this world and the hereafter for us. You are Imam ul Anbiya, Rahmat ul lil Alameen. You are Mahboob e Rabb ul Maghraben and Rabb ul Mashraqen.

Qurrato aini bika Ya Rasool ALLAH s.a.w

Life of a Phoenix

 Q: Why do I have skin lax on my face?

Ans: Because I live a life of a phoenix.

I die everyday. Death is gifted to me by people who surround me and people who love me.

I didn't choose this life. 

I will never again choose this life.

I will never choose the same set of people I have met in this life.

My skin can never recover from scars and stress I have endured.

I was focused on survival. 

My life is a gift in itself. A wrapped wrinkled gift.

Dreams are made of whatever you're lacking in life

 

I don't think we wish for things we really dream of. We wish for things we are deprived of or want back in life. That is what makes us crazy and go gaga about stuff.

While I was reading "Tuesdays with Morris" I wondered that how fantastic the idea was. I wondered how to execute such an obscure wish of mine and how to go about it.

Little did I know I will regret everything from the past 05/06yrs for all the wrong reasons.

I regret not recording Abbu's conversations with our trip to Banni. I regret not saying enough. I regret not journalling back then. I regret not photographing him enough. I regret not hugging him enough.

I dream of having a dream rendezvous with my father dearest repeatedly. I want to have endless conversations with him only. I miss the wit and I miss the sarcasm. I miss everything about you Abbu. To the point that it gets difficult to breathe.

To the wishful thinking!

To anything which makes dream true!

Forever and beyond.....

Xoxo

Asif ki beti

I might be okay but I am not fine at all

 

Abbu!

Every day is a struggle if I tell you the truth. 

You are not visiting me often.....I can't breathe. I miss you every second of every day. There are things....things which I need to tell you, discuss with you.

I miss your wit, your sarcasm.....your everything. The very end of bohri bazar, Haji shah dargah takes me back in time and I long for your company. People are weird. I wondered how you survived. You didn't tell me any of it....except for the very lil part during last yr.

One thing which keeps me going is that ALLAH gave me You as a father and I enjoyed every bit of it. I wish we meet sooner and in happier times. I am paralyzed by the time. Can't wake up in morning only to not find you and come back later from work only to stop myself from running to your room.

I don't watch funny reels on Instagram now. I can't share with you now so I have stopped watching also. 

Miss you abba!

More than what you can imagine.

Never knew that breathing is a struggle other than Asthma....but even that was short lived for me.

Sept 11, 2024. Wednesday.