Amma loves you Ali Farzan

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Looking Forward to Your List

Nine birthdays together and five separately. I still celebrate. I remember your excitement on getting birthday presents. Please accept the gifts you get from the Quran khwani with the same excitement. You always wanted a big party. I remember how much I had to convince you for a small party for 2nd December 2013 – the party which never took place. We were new in this city so did not know many people. The list of invitees was short. I promised that the list will get long next year – the year which never came. What came was that road accident.

Ali Farzan, this year I tried to stay away from the memories on your birthday. I did not go back to the pictures, the school bag, and the cloths. I forced my eyes to gaze over pages, I engaged my thinking with academic debates, and soothed my emotions with the foresight of  “Dr. Ali Farzan”. And the day came. I defended my dissertation. The journey which started with attaching your name to mine reached another milestone. I am not one of those lucky mothers who attend the convocation of their sons. But I am looking forward to the time when “Dr. Ali Farzan” will be called from the podium on my graduation. DSC_0781.JPG

This picture is of my defense meeting, you can see us smiling on the success. Since the departure, I get no clue of your successes. You were used to sharing your achievements with the excitement in the voice and the thrill reflected in the movement of your hands. Now amma is telling you of her attainment. Where is your list of achievements? Amma will not compromise this time too. She wants to listen to an extensive list of tasks she thinks cannot be accomplished. The delay in that sharing does not mean that you can stop working on that. Looking forward to your list, amma ki jaan. Looking forward to the birthday celebrations together. Till then, Sayonara!

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Mothers’ day-No regrets

Here comes the day again but it is different this time. With you, it was a carefree day with a flower or two from you and a card which your teacher taught you to make. It was not that special. I was never sentimental as take these celebrations as cliche. Then you were gone. And the cliche became a stone too heavy for me to hold. This is the fourth mothers’ day I am not in your company. Somehow the feelings are not that bad. I think I am out of that state of mind when losing you was unbearable. The sense of completion in having you, even for a brief time, has become far superior to the loss.

Let me not say more, let me stay calm, let me remain composed. Now I don’t get any idea of what you are doing. Maybe I have got in the world too much. I know why I am doing this; it is an assurance that you are also in your world in the same manner. I want to stay with these fancy ideas till we meet.


May you personify love!

The first thing I wanted to do this morning was to hug you. Hug you so tight that no beam of light or puff of air can pass in between. While enjoying the celebrations of love around I do want to hold your hand. I want to walk in the streets and on the untrodden paths and share the cheer with you. Besides these wishes, I am not having emptiness. That is a surprise for me. Maybe Razia Auntie is right and the travel from the womb to the heart has taken place. You exist in your fullness but within me. That emptiness is getting replaced by gratitude. I take every joy of life as a sign that you are happy at another location. The belief that you are enjoying other things at some other place keeps me calm. I see every smile on my face as a signal of you smiling far away. I take my care taken by Allah Mian as a message that He is you attending to you. I pray that the belief stay with me till we are not together.

You were not good in giving hug. Your resistance to it was obvious but this is how all the kids are in our house. I do not blame you for that. Your display of love was not in your hug but in your concern for others. Your cousins do not play in the same manner now. Whenever they meet, they play in groups of two or three. Their leader is no more with them to instruct and resolve their disputes. I am sure you keep doing these things but with others.

Now I have realized that every mother loves her kid with intensity. While we were together, I thought that our love was unique. In fact, it was! Which mother trust her son like I did? I did believe when you told me that you finished the Kangaroo test earlier because two questions were incorrect. Me, known in the assessment field, trusted the judgment of a mere child. I did believe when I said that you will buy a Ferrari within a year of getting the job. I did believe that you were pure and was going to remain the same. My trust in you was too idealist and Allah Mian has made a perfect arrangement to retain that.

How can our love be compared to other loves in this world. There was no pre-requisite, no calculation, no interpretation, and no negotiation. It was perfect with all the imperfect attributes of both of us. It should have been part of the greek mythology-your favorite engagement in the last one year in this world. If not, at least it should personify pure and unconditional love. Stay cherished and delighted. Amma is looking forward to all the stories of love from you.

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Panting with your love

It is that time of the year when I delve deeper into your love. When I recall the time we met for the first time. When I cherish your company.  We are no more together but it does not take away your aroma. It is only that I inhale that while panting. Ali Farzan, the little yoga master, is no more around to tell amma how to longer the breath-span. Worry not; amma is trying her best to remain how your mother should be so will improve on this.

I am recalling the morning walk I imposed on you in the last summer vacations. The ten rounds of the park were a pain and your complaints of waking up early were not getting any shorter. Every day in those two months I thought you will stop in the middle and will make me walk on my own. You-the pure heart-did not know any way to protest except to walk in the opposite direction. Whenever we crossed each other on the track I could see the grim on your face, but you continued. You did not come to know how to refuse any thing amma asked.

Now I have no clue if I will enjoy the same authority when we meet. I have no idea of the accommodations I will need to make due to the arising maturity of my hero. This year you would have turned 13. I did not wait for anything more than this time to come. I wanted you to come out of childhood so I can open my heart more to you. You always thought that you were my adviser and you were right. But secretly amma was playing games and was keeping the serious things away. I longed to declare on your 13th birthday that now we will act like two elders. I wanted you to be more into the crime partnership. I wanted to hand over more power to you. I have to wait more for that time to come.


Panting with your love

It is that time of the year when I delve deeper into your love. When I recall the time we met for the first time. When I cherish your company.  We are no more together but it does not take away your aroma. It is only that I inhale that while panting. Ali Farzan, the little yoga master, is no more around to tell amma how to longer the breath-span. Worry not; amma is trying her best to remain how your mother should be so will improve on this. 

I am recalling the morning walk I imposed on you in the last summer vacations. The ten rounds of the park were a pain and your complaints of waking up early were not getting any shorter. Every day in those two months I thought you will stop in the middle and will make me walk on my own. You-the pure heart-did not know any way to protest except to walk in the opposite direction. Whenever we crossed each other on the track I could see the grim on your face, but you continued. You did not come to know how to refuse any thing amma asked.

Now I have no clue if I will enjoy the same authority when we meet. I have no idea of the accommodations I will need to make due to the arising maturity of my hero. This year you would have turned 13. I did not wait for anything more than this time to come. I wanted you to come out of childhood so I can open my heart more to you. You always thought that you were my adviser and you were right. But secretly amma was playing games and was keeping the serious things away. I longed to declare on your 13th birthday that now we will act like two elders. I wanted you to be more into the crime partnership. I wanted to hand over more power to you. I have to wait more for that time to come. 


What matters is a pure heart

What do people notice; big eyes, fair complexion, soft skin. I found all those attributes in you.

What I was used to notice; shinning eyes, broad smile,  eye-contact, confident gestures. I found all those in you.

I was used to notice how people sit. How they place their legs, how they move their hands, how their neck is positioned. You were used to keep the legs straight while sitting on the sofa, twist them while sitting on a low chair, and bending while lying on the carpet. You were used to put the ankle sometimes on the table and I had to correct that. Many times I found you putting both hands separately on the table-perfect. Didn’t you have all the signs of a star.

You have told me that what matters is a pure heart. What remains is the memory of the warmth in the eyes, sound of laughter, and sprinkle of joy over the face. This world is a fake place. Here glitter is produced in the factory and confidence comes from the status. I feel relieved that you do not have to notice all that. You left when your laughter was pure and your smile was reflection of what you felt. You did not have to pose that you like something. I was disappointed when before coming to Memphis we were buying the quilt cover and you paid no attention to my choice of car theme. I was disappointed when you gave a shoulder to the new phone I bought one week before the accident. I looked for features which can please you and you did not care. You were more keen to get the parcel from nani with your birthday gift. But this is how I should live; look for joys in small things, in the things that matter to me. I think I am trying to match you, my son.

 


Here comes spring

I saw a rose tulip today and thought it will bloom in a day or two. The trees across the road are getting new leaves and give the most fresh look with those tiny, light green attachments. They will grow bigger and stronger, get brown and dry, and will fall down. Sometimes I do miss your blooming but that is not what I can change.

I try to find you in the moments of happiness and then pray for even stronger happy moments for you. I have noticed the list of ‘to do’ is getting longer and longer and you know it gives me satisfaction. Allah Mian can make me busy, why dont I believe that He is doing the same to you. He can give me moments of fulfilment, how can he spare you from that.

Have no clue how you spend the time. I am getting perfect in timelessness. The new thing is the addition of play music on the app page you created. You remember showing the page to me with some fear that I will dislike. I bothered the least as thought you have done it for yourself to save the games. It is in my use now. So I am taking advantage of everything  you have done for me. I am  making sure that I can justify utilization of each of your favours to me. Keep holding the hand. Keep laughing.

by Sukaina 4 years