I Am My Father's Daughter

If there is one thing that I have learnt in my twenty years of life, it is that life does not turn out the way you want. And you have to learn to be okay with it. Otherwise, you just stand in the middle of the road going nowhere. 

Somehow you have to find that one essential thing in your life that makes you happy. One song, one movie, one ice cream flavour, one person to talk to etc. And stick to it. 

You have to understand that things might not go your way. They might take a slightly different path to your original destination. The routes sometimes differ because even Google earth makes mistakes. And life might take you through the longer route. You just drive a little longer and get to hear the new Imagine Dragon album. 

I stood on the spotless marble floor of Hamad Hospital for 23 days, waiting and praying that Abbu is conscious once again. I stood there for 52 days in order for him to be shifted from the dreary ICU into a less dreary general room. In that time span, I could not do anything to help him except pray. My big mouth, my confidence, my pride etc, it lay on the floor being stomped over by doctors and nurses. Because there was literally nothing any of us could do. 

Even if we were doctors, we could not help the one person who means the world to us. So you see, you are forced to be okay with it. In the grand scheme of things, somehow it makes sense going through it. 

Now, I care less about the society, petty issues and daily issues. I smile and think of that helpless moment on that cold floor. I remember my head, bowed down to Allah, praying that my dad be okay. 

Nothing else matters to me. 

Nothing. 

How could it ? 

You see I am spoiled. Because he spoiled me. 

I have had a five star life. Because he made sure I got everything I wanted. 

I am my father's daughter. Only because he is my father. 

.............. 

Life Goes on

This life that we live waits for no one. It's like a train that never stops, whether you are on it or off it.

It's been 33 days since Abbu's accident and everyone seems to be living their lives. For us, everything has become a before and after of the accident. Bought Maybelline Eyeliner before the accident. Moawiz got in a huge fight after a week of the accident.

At first life just stops. You forget what time it is, let alone what day it is. You look at your phone's time to check the visiting hours of ICU. Everything else just stops mattering. It does not matter that you needed new summer clothes. Or the youngest sibling has exams.

Your existence becomes a cycle of getting updates from the doctors, than sharing all that information with the rest of the world, praying as hard as you can while you stand straight supporting everyone else. You still eat. You still sleep. You still drive a car. But now you eat Criossants without tasting it. You sleep when you cannot stay awake any longer. You drive because you need to get to the hospital.

Everything becomes a need.

If you look around, you will see that the rest is still how it was. People are still shopping in malls. They are going on vacations, celebrating birthdays, giving exams and living their lives.

How do you live yours ? Do you just wake up and go to the gym like you did for the past 3 years ? Do you still eat Pizza on Thursdays ? Does life still make sense ? Does anything matter ?

While you sit and stare out of the window, the train moves on the tracks like it always did. It stops nowhere for no one. Because that is what it does.

The weirdest part is that we are also forced to live our lives. We still make sure to check facebook, meet friends on holidays, celebrate other people's victories etc. We still buy presents and even wrap them. We make pasta and share it with the neighbours. Updating people becomes a normal routine like getting your teeth polished every six months.

In reality, nothing is the same. Abbu is always on my mind. It does not matter what I do or how I do it. Life has become this weird phenomenon where you do everything out of necessity. And people still do not leave you alone.

Make no mistake my friends, this life does not stop for the likes of you or me. So whether we like it or not, we have to live it.

Letters To The Moon

Dear Moon,

I am thankful. I am very very thankful. Gratitude is a very small word for what I am feeling right now. I am down with a really bad cold and flu, so I was banned from the hospital. I did not see Abbu today. But I knew that he was okay.

Have you ever imagined a life without your parents ? I am a typical South Asian kid who has spent half of her life living by holding her parents hand. There are dozens of times when I have had to ask their permission to go see a movie or meet a friend. I have argued over clothes and begged for more pocket money. I have made faces at the food cooked by Amma and laughed at Abbu trying to sound cool. That is pretty much my life.

Yes, I was also that kid who broke all rules and regulations in the house, who did not used to talk to her mother for days over a stupid argument. I have slammed doors and walked out on my parents. I have disagreed and disobeyed them. There have been times as a teenager, when I disliked them. I have done it all. But that is because they are my parents. They are my brick wall. The one I can always drive nails in or hammer at.

So the fact that my father is doing okay means a lot to me. It means everything to me right now. Someone said to me that after awhile, your parents house starts seeming like a stranger's. And you consider it a "Meka." That is a very typical notion. One supported by many of our women. But I disagree with this statement. I said that I don't feel like that. I was told that maybe its because I have not spent enough time in the house I live in right now. That is not the case.

People form a house. Not beds, dressers or bookshelves. For me, home has always been associated with the people living there at that time. So regardless of where I live, my parents house will always be like a home to me. It will always make me stay up all night eating ice cream and binge watching Nikita. It's that feeling where you take off your shoes and release your sucked in stomach because you are home.

Hence I am very grateful for my parents, for the fact that they are here for me. I am glad that I grew up in their household, with their values and habits. Because I do not want to loose that sense of home, that warmth of hot chocolate or freshly ground coffee.

That is all for now. I hope that we always carry that sense with us where ever life leads us.

Yours always,

S

It Becomes A Burden

It's been almost two months since I studied a thing. And now it's scaring the hell out of me. I have a bad habit of leaving everything to the last possible minute. I never seem to learn from my mistakes and study on time if not ahead of it. I should have learnt it considering I got married which basically means juggling a thousand things at one time. Unfortunately I did not.

So now I sit with laptop in my hands, staring at the date which says May 3 and I have to give exams in exactly a month. Good luck with that !

I think I have done about five chapters of one paper and nothing of the other two. I could give you a million excuses and justification for why I am not prepared at all. But here is the thing, whether your exam is tomorrow or a month later, justifications do not matter. No one remembers the tight spot you were in when you did what you had to do, except you yourself.

To be very honest, studying was just not on my mind the past month. Nothing really was. My life hung in the middle, dangling from a very thin rope in front of my eyes while I stood and stared at it. But now that Abbu is a bit better and things have calmed down, I think its time to get a grip on myself and study.

One of the biggest reason is that I have paid for it. Well, I did not. But someone did. And its not my fathers money that I can waste without a giving a second thought. Its a huge gesture that I need to fully take in consideration before I make any more mistakes.

That is one of the things about someone else paying for your fees. I do not mean to sound ungrateful but it starts feeling like a burden. I have enough on my plate already then dealing with people making remarks on this thing as well.

I have always studied because I love it. Not because I am forced to. Here is the thing, if I had ever studied by force, I would not have definitely cared more about my 12th grade marks. But I don't. Its because I love getting lost in a problem and getting frustrated at it, then feeling like I found a gold mine on getting the answer. Its a great feeling. One that endorses me to study.

I am going to do it. I am going to open those damn books and get at it. Not for anyone else but me. I need to because I have to pay everything back. Otherwise, it will become this huge stack of bricks on my head instead of just a stone. And its better to throw that stone at the first chance. Otherwise, the bricks are only going to require more hard work and tire those arms out.

..................