Growing up days was really hard for all of us – the flock of three sisters who hurdled and messed up things, sometimes wondered the society must be taking us burdens. We were not all the same, but yes, there were few similarities. Cursed, hampered with life and sharing the same unfortunate circumstances to be raised without a mother beside. And here I stop like that a summer migrated bird, flying in the relentless sky reticently- does it make sense? Birds don’t fear, not the height is fright; they fear inhumanity that can come and touch them making lives hell to breathe. I believe adventure is likely not that pointlessly amusing; but threat looms all around even in the blue and bluest seas.
So this is how my life starts entering the invariable misery and suffering- I was not killed or tortured ruthlessly by some military camp, jihads or something nor there was money crisis; what lacked was the proper attention of love that one needed. The bread for stomach can be left behind instead which is the soul food: love, affection, affirmation, someone to live for, a purpose underestimates it all. Left in the middle of nowhere to walk such a big path, unless, sorrowfully for two 6 year old kids and a just grown up teenager is really a big dilemma to the young minds. They look for the same unlike faces but do they reckon any? Long ago, a day, luck played this futile game when life turned a nightmare for me, for us.
But such feelings from my part no longer exist, not that I can hug her and rub my hair off her cheeks, she doesn’t pray prayers for me to pass exams clear, nor she ties my hair into bun as I may reminisce. Life without her is meaningless and how do I carry on with it? But they say life has a way deeper meaning that just ‘death’. The going of a single person doesn’t stop you from living, it always goes on, and mine here. But some lacking always stays and no longer do you have the urge to resist, because you lose touch from your life. This is what happened to me at first. It came like a howling storm in my life and torn everything apart in its crimson love….
A murky afternoon with the sun set high above the mountains reflecting a grey daylight shadow in the skies. It was 29 June, 2000 when I happily sung out my lungs in my musicals forwarded at school hoping to tell mom I was selected for the annual function. She would really burst into laughter and hug me tight. The school day ended and as everyone got out in serial according to class teachers and met their parents\guardians on gate. I waited very long when our car finally buzzed and the ‘darowan bhai’ took my bag from the usual place it was positioned and yelled ‘hurry up car’s here’. (Of course he said that in Bengali but I translated it, slightly lets say modified). Mommy wasn’t there waiting maybe she had some work needed to be done.
Then it all came so uncertain and shock that it almost took three hours sitting under the Air conditioner freezing the room and working out two jugs of cold water on our heads; finally she left us. We hadn’t been on the prospect and seen the luggage being packed and unpacked times, how they smashed and she knocked him down and went away, very far. But everything was a mere blur. My dad no longer smiled useless nor he had this broad grin and I understood what it meant to be living without your same-old queen. It never seemed to matter to anyone. People came and showed sympathies knowing we had almost lost our mother, no one really felt the pain like we did. They just came and overheard us with taunts that we learned all these as motherless daughters. Then man can’t ever just you properly; they are unjust, but God is just and someday you’ll have your justice. If you keep judging people you have no time to love them.
Today after the long race of 7 years, its 2007, when we stand almost changed: all grown up faces, faded pains (or unladed) and searching that we built something and flashbacks come as a big force flashing everything that had once occurred…with the same hearts sore. We may laugh some time say that beat the blues, it never really happens this way. One who suffers this way only feels the pain; others just only compare it to their luxuries and most importantly the support they have from ‘rue buds’ and ‘life partners’ that make life rather soothing. I’d like to also mention that ‘pain is for some moment, but life is another era’ just in the quest of my mother, that I undoubtedly miss her so much even today, she is not that farer, but in that every rippling aches of my heart thrown on terrible nightmares sweating my worst most fears and when lumps after lumps follow the silent figure in distinctive rays. The readers won’t have any idea what you mean to me by reading this; you are making lives connect and putting a smile in the distressed cheeks. As kazim Ibn Sadique (writer Daily Star) says ‘This is what you feel inside not what other people feel and say you feel’. You are always there in my heart, until this daughter is alive, even when I die, you just belong.
A murky afternoon with the sun set high above the mountains reflecting a grey daylight shadow in the skies. It was 29 June, 2000 when I happily sung out my lungs in my musicals forwarded at school hoping to tell mom I was selected for the annual function. She would really burst into laughter and hug me tight. The school day ended and as everyone got out in serial according to class teachers and met their parents\guardians on gate. I waited very long when our car finally buzzed and the ‘darowan bhai’ took my bag from the usual place it was positioned and yelled ‘hurry up car’s here’. (Of course he said that in Bengali but I translated it, slightly lets say modified). Mommy wasn’t there waiting maybe she had some work needed to be done.
Then it all came so uncertain and shock that it almost took three hours sitting under the Air conditioner freezing the room and working out two jugs of cold water on our heads; finally she left us. We hadn’t been on the prospect and seen the luggage being packed and unpacked times, how they smashed and she knocked him down and went away, very far. But everything was a mere blur. My dad no longer smiled useless nor he had this broad grin and I understood what it meant to be living without your same-old queen. It never seemed to matter to anyone. People came and showed sympathies knowing we had almost lost our mother, no one really felt the pain like we did. They just came and overheard us with taunts that we learned all these as motherless daughters. Then man can’t ever just you properly; they are unjust, but God is just and someday you’ll have your justice. If you keep judging people you have no time to love them.
Today after the long race of 7 years, its 2007, when we stand almost changed: all grown up faces, faded pains (or unladed) and searching that we built something and flashbacks come as a big force flashing everything that had once occurred…with the same hearts sore. We may laugh some time say that beat the blues, it never really happens this way. One who suffers this way only feels the pain; others just only compare it to their luxuries and most importantly the support they have from ‘rue buds’ and ‘life partners’ that make life rather soothing. I’d like to also mention that ‘pain is for some moment, but life is another era’ just in the quest of my mother, that I undoubtedly miss her so much even today, she is not that farer, but in that every rippling aches of my heart thrown on terrible nightmares sweating my worst most fears and when lumps after lumps follow the silent figure in distinctive rays. The readers won’t have any idea what you mean to me by reading this; you are making lives connect and putting a smile in the distressed cheeks. As kazim Ibn Sadique (writer Daily Star) says ‘This is what you feel inside not what other people feel and say you feel’. You are always there in my heart, until this daughter is alive, even when I die, you just belong.
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