Rafiya speaks from her heart
Miss you Mom: Mothers day passed, but your memories remain
Rafiya Munshi
Some days back while managing books my shivering hands got hold of some notes written years back for me by my mother. I felt myself quite close to life, as these were the verses of care she left for me to ease my body and soul when she was not at home. Every time I read them my jerky movements and uncontrolled body collapses to the ground and makes me crawl like a child to find a darker place. No extreme art in the world is yet so defined and obvious in displaying the unutterable emotions felt on your loss and lifelong absence from the world around my Mom.
While experimenting with some words today, I can feel an unbearable pain and a blow to the fluidity of my ideas in such a manner that this piece can not justify even the slightest impulse of the emotional tide racing in my veins. Today, I have no valuable information to give nor a logical or reasoned philosophy to impart but only the few emotions of my own heart and may be of all those like me to share. Trust me; this attempt in itself is a daring one as there are no universal scales which could measure the need of a mother for a girl. Since her absence even the smallest of the trouble use to turn bulkier. She had the magic of turning the miseries in to comforts and hatred in to intimacies. She was a network connecting me to all and a binding force for all strained relations.
In every trail of narrating the extreme dearth of her presence at several occasions of my life, it became impossible for me to correct my style and selection of words. It is also true that many kind souls tried to laugh, cry and sympathize with me by turns but just with the twinkling of an eye I got attached to the harsh reality. And many times it also became difficult to manage my internal conflict and be in my best behaviors. Now I could hardly see those faces around me which cried loud enough the day u left my Mom.
I agree that all the brilliances of my wit and the depths of my sensibility if present is only because of you my Mom. And all the slips of my immaturity and doubtful tastes got developed only after you left me. Your absence has always afflicted my heart and my manner in such a way that sometimes suspicions arouse, instead of humor farce develops and instead of showing sentiments I turn sentimental, thus making the tenderness of my heart doubtful.
As to be compassionate is quite natural for a mother so it does not seem worth mentioning here that how kindly and uniformly you used to help me during my disturbed times. Rather my thoughts stand still while sensing that how perfectly and sensibly I was blanketed in your protection against the all natural sharpnesses of the world around. Every time, when I had to make the difficult choices your absence becomes quite inimical to my very existence and even in the excellent frames of my mind I start making the bargains among the choices. I often end up quite discontent and not at harmony with my heart and its feelings.
Since you left me I could not find a single face to gaze on for the understanding of the all that is unspoken, such an auricle which could feel the suffering out of my enjoyments, such a deep vision which could see the unshown and such a reliable thought which could never betray. Now as I am left with your thoughts only, they have a right over my whole heart-to divide them will be to lessen them, to expose them will be to risk them and where there is risk there may be loss which is unaffordable for me. It is only your thought that fills my heart with trust and confidence. Whenever my way becomes too rough for my feet and too steep for my strength, I could feel you around making my path velvety soft and my soul strengthened and refreshed. But sometimes I could also see your injured spirit waving her head and turning off silent at the times of my utmost miseries and dishonors. In all the painted scenes of my life I will always miss your presence and will ask myself that why I was chosen by nature to mourn for you while I was just gaining maturity. At the end I deeply apologise for sensitizing the most delicate emotions of all the tender hearts of my kind – I will miss you always my Mom.