Her Vocation

25. Her Vocation

1 YEAR & 4 MONTHS LATER

"You were calling out his name in sleep, again." I looked up from my knitting at Haadi's voice to find myself at the receiving end of her full attention. Looking away momentarily, I tried to collect my thoughts and after putting away my incomplete sweater, I turned to her once again.

"I am sorry—I don't know why—" Try as I much, I just couldn't meet her eyes. I knew who she meant. There was only one person haunting me. Even after all this time, every single day, not even leaving me alone in my dreams.

"Aasi—Maybe, you should see them now. It's been a while. Things have settled at your end Alhumdullilah and by now, they would have come around too—" Instead of looking at her directly, I tried to focus my attention on her hand covering mine sympathetically. With a sigh, I tore my gaze away from it, listening to her with my face turned away.

"—your parents must be worried too—" I took this opportunity to break in.

"I highly doubt that. My mother was especially eager to get rid of me. The only thing she could be worried about is her social status that must've gotten a blow after I ran out on them—" I couldn't keep away the venom from my voice even after trying. I looked up to find Haadi shaking her head at me with a small sad smile which made me avert my gaze with a frown.

"We both know that's not true." She paused but I didn't acknowledge her statement.

"Aasi. Look at me, sweetie." She cooed as she turned my face to her by softly tugging my chin to herself. I kept my eyes down which were brimming with unshed tears. Even after being away from them for so long, even after telling myself day after day that I didn't need them—I didn't care for them anymore—I still felt my heart breaking with pain at the thought of them. No matter where I went, how far I tried to get away from them, they still managed to hurt me with their memories.

"I know you miss them—and you're wrong to think that they don't care for you." At Haadi's words, the tears broke loose and streamed down my chin, dripping onto my hand on my lap.

"She is your Mother and her way of expressing it might be lacking in some regards—but as far as I remember her, she always had the right intentions for you. Her every decision was in your best interest. Whether it was pulling you out of Madrasah, sending you to Pakistan after Samar made your life difficult in school or getting you married to Naveed—she only ever thought she was doing you good—" Hadi explained softly but I couldn't get a single word out because of the lump of tears blocking the words in the back of my throat. My voice broke with sobs as I began, quietly.

"—she—she told me—I was no good to her alive—what good would I be—dead—I know—Haadi—you don't know her—she doesn't care—She never—cared—" The wound that I had tried to conceal with a bandage without ever giving it proper care to heal was finally stripped bare. And staring back at me was a damage worsened with time.

"She must've said all that in rage without even meaning it. That's why our Prophet PBUH advised us to speak good or stay silent." Her voice was low and gentle like her.

"Aasi. Maybe this time apart may have brought you both closer. Time heals all wounds Aasi—It may leave a scar behind but if you don't treat it while you still have a chance, then it will always keep on hurting you until it spreads and becomes your handicap—" At her words, I pulled back suddenly.

"Yes! And that's why I need to amputate it—cut them off from my life—because they are no good to me—" I remarked furiously while rubbing away my tears with the back of my hand. But seeing me change all of a sudden, somehow amused Haadi and with a chuckle she patted my cheek.