Redemption

Mysteries and Milestones

Mysteries and Milestones

The warmth of searing hot tea sponged into my palms, as I wrapped my hands around the ceramic mug. I gulped down the drink mother had prepared for me. The night air was crisp and the darkness was dense and heavy as it spread across the night sky of Peshawar.

I buried myself in a cocoon of blankets as I flicked through my favorite book; GLASSWORKS by Arahaan Ayub Alam. My lips traced down the words on the pages as I studied and analyzed the writer’s emotions.
My head, dipped into the mysteries of the bound pages in my hands. I read:
“His hands were always pierced and wounded-The old man; the one that labored at the local glassworks. I recalled all those nights from my childhood days. Masterfully, he cut and shaped all those intricate ornaments. He skinned his hands, every time but he did it nevertheless.
I cut glass and polish crystals. Every day I pick and rub stones with numerous cleansing lubricants. I sit for hours to caress the hardened cases of blackened rocks. I polish them and engrave them, and I hurt myself every day, do you know why? He asked in a patchy voice.
Why?
There are people willing to exchange their riches for these rocks. Rocks that don’t even shine, rocks that glitter despite the fact that they’re covered in cloudy blood stains from within. He spoke.”

Sighing, I pushed myself straight back up, and walked towards the dresser. I pulled out a comb from one of its compartments and thoughtlessly brushed my locks. I glanced back at my reflection-My face as tear-stained-I felt as if every ounce of energy had been soaked out of my body, I felt lifeless and drained out after a day of chores.

 I pulled up my dusty, brown waves and coiled them back up in a chignon. A few cut, fringes fell out messily and slid behind my ears. Squirting some coconut liniment onto my palm, I massaged it onto my facial skin which glistened under the thin film of lotion. As I stood there, the baking lights, planted along the crown of my bedroom flickered and died out.
The room was darkened and only faint wisp of moonlight filtered through the blinds. A thunder roared to life as the raindrops trickled, splashed and raced down the glass panes.

Rain-it had been years since it rained like this in Peshawar. And the last time it did, it washed away every single desire and wish that had pooled within my heart.  

The clouds had sealed the sky completely and the thunder echoed within the cavern city of Peshawar. The sky let down its burden and everything was dull. The air, the fog-I can still taste the salt and shadow from that day. Every time I think about those hours, my knees fall weak and an ocean of tears; that I’ve withheld for so many years threatens to inundate.

I felt like someone reached deep within me and mercilessly pulled out an ounce of flesh from my body, leaving behind a void; a dark hole. He lay there; still, like he was sleeping. His hair was raked up and his cheeks were red, cold and tender. That was the last time I saw him; my dear father. He was an honest, just and noble man but he left us alone, my mother and me. He left us alone in a world of injustice to muddle through life and survive on our own.

I remember that day like a fresh scar that came from an old wound. I remember crying to my mother, I remember how we held each other, how we knit ourselves in a fragile threadwork which kept us from crumbling.    
“The cosmos glitters and spreads out, like dust. The sun rises up and goes back to sleep. The world; wobbles and tumbles down with every ticking second.
-And we’re all alone. She sobbed. We’re like a tiny drop in an ocean; ever-expanding. So, I wake up every day and fight my demons-I push through the pain, just to see you smile. I keep loving you, even though you’re just a shred of glass that’s slicing through my soul.”
A tear rolled down my mother’s cheek as she spoke. Her voice came out, rough and raspy-broken.

Mother….I can’t lose you.

I rubbed my palm against me cheek to wipe off the tears and inhaled deeply and let out all the heat pooling within me, for so long in a lengthy, muted, puff of air.