Previously known as Querencia.
Poets, as often as they say, they said the truth. Love cannot be controlled or planned. It comes like rain on a sunny day; an unseasoned downpour. Like a gust of harsh wind on a heated day. It comes with a painful epi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
اتنے گھنے بادل کے پیچھےکتنا تنہا ہوگا چاند
***
Present
At night after everything was finalized she lied with her mother, in her lap. Her mind curious with so many questions and no answers once again. Her pain had subsided and now she was a bit better but still torn apart.
She finally questioned her mother. A question which was better left if unspoken but she spoke out loud.
"Ami, hum din se kyun nhi darte? Jabke maiyatein toh din mein hoti hain, kabrein toh din ki roshni mein khudti hain, insan ko toh din mein dafanaya jata hai... toh hum raat se kyun aur din se kyun nhi darte?"
(Mother, why are we not afraid of day? I mean funerals take place in the day, graves are dug up in daylight, the human is buried in the day... so why are we scared of the night and not of the day?)
Her mother sat there shocked at the intensity of the question, the profoundness pained her, not because it was deep but because it was asked by her. Her, who was so lively and colourful. Her asking this question hurt her. But nonetheless she answered it in her own motherly way.
"Beta, insan Jab mar jata hai toh woh andhere mein chala jata hai, toh sirf uske andhere ko kam karne ke liye din mein maiyatein hoti hain. Uski kabar tak mein andhera hota hai, isi liye din mein maiyatein hoti hain. Hum na hi din se darte hain na hi raat se. Ye sab hamare dilon mein bachpan ki kahaniyoun ka khof hai."
(Child, when a human die he instantly is robbed of the light and goes into darkness, so just to lessen his darkness we arrange funerals in the day. Even his grave is filled with darkness, that is why funerals take place in daylight. We are not scared of the day nor any night, these are just some made-up stories of childhood birthing fears into our hearts)
Her mother's words brought a strange sense of peace to her but her mind filled questionable thoughts again asked a question.
"Okay, but mama why do we always blame the disease and not the death angel. Isn't he the one who comes and takes our loved ones away?"
Her mother amused at the question lightly chuckled and wisely chose not to answer her.
"You need to sleep now, come today I'll sleep here with my daughter."
Not arguing she closed her eyes, with her mother's arm around as if a shield was put on her to keep her protected, she closed her eyes. Sleep was something she needed dearly to stop her mind and her paining heart. The fog of grey needed to disappear from herself but she knew it will take time, a lot more than she thinks. She needed hope, a flicker of light that will give birth to some kind of hope which will keep her strong and alive. As the night passed they both slept, rather uncomfortably and sad but still sleep found its way in both of their systems.
