Sometimes life breaks us so bad, we wonder how on earth are we going to put our pieces back together. How do we get up?
I miss my mom. The last trip she made here, on the last night of her stay, her legs hurt. I offered to press them for her. It was dark and mom was sleepy. I held on to her legs and cried. For a long, long time. Marriage. Something that separates you from the safest haven and puts you out on your own to try to build yours. I miss my mom. When I bid farewell to her for her flight, I couldn’t stop crying. I cried the whole way back home in the car. I can’t be with her, I can’t be without her.

Today I miss her the most.My heaving heart misses her today so much. But then I know, if I got to see her now, I wouldn’t tell her what’s wrong. Too many tears in my mom’s own eyes taught me so well years ago to camouflage my tears so well, she would never know. Still a hug from her, she telling me I am a good girl would bandage my hurting soul, at least temporarily.

It hurts when you are not being understood. It hurts feeling alien. It hurts feeling ignored. It hurts feeling used. But do you know what hurts the most? It hurts that when you are hurt you want to revert back in a certain way to make yourself understood, but you just can’t, because that’s now how you have been raised. You can’t follow the script you wrote inside your head, because that’s not who you are. 

Alone, humiliated, insulted, I cried while I made rotis for my kids. My soul spoke up. Spoke to my inner angel voice. Asked it, why God is silent watching me suffer inside. Pat came the reply. Because I am silently watching my time suffer. I don’t pray with the same fervour. I stopped asking for forgiveness. I went silent on God. The only one, my only constant, and I went silent on Him.

Main hi woh jo rehmat se gira

Aye khuda… gir gaya gir gaya

Main jo tujhse door huaa

Lut gaya, lut gaya…

Aye khuda…….

Aye khuda…

Kyun judtaa iss jahan se tu

Ik din yeh guzar hi jayega

Kitna bhi samet le yahan

Muthi se phisal hi jayega

Har shakhsh hai dhool se bhara

Aur phir usme hi jaa mila

Yeh haqiqat hai tu jaan le

Kyun sach se mooh hai pherta 

 Not the whole song, but these parts of the lyrics fit me right now so well. I ran away from myself. Today my natural voice screams inside me, why do I have to face all this? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to be the only one patient? Then my angel voice replies, because I prayed for this! Damn! I prayer for this, I spent nights up in prayer convincing God I could handle anything just get me here. Oh, how naive I was. I literally asked God to put me here! And you know what? God always listened to me. He still does. I always get what I wish for and what I pray for. My wishes and prayers are so messed up, that sometimes I wonder why I prayed for a certain thing. Then I fear unthankfulness, so I shut up and let my inside voices battle. That’s what messed me up. There are some things that I want to so bad. But I get afraid that what if I ask God and He gives me and I mess up again and regret. Maybe I should add at the end of my prayer, that my wishes to be fulfilled if they are good for me. 

It is such a strange cold world. Everything is so temporary, it is freaky. It took me four years to understand that nobody is mine. Everyone has a tiny role in a part of life and they all fly away. Parents and siblings. They are priority. The moment you’re married, gone. They fly away. No, we fly away. Husband. Yours but never really yours. He is himself. His own self. Friends. Always there. But not at all parts of the moments of life. Kids. Only till their childhood. Then they fly away too. Heck, even we are never our own. I can never control my physical body always. I can’t stop sickness. I can’t make pain go away. I can’t force my eyes to stop tears. I can’t ask my heart and brain to not get hurt when others say hurtful things. I am not even my own.The only one always there is God. The only constant. The only solace.

And like every time I fall, I get up, again. Because I believe in a thing called Hope. Come hail or storm, I pray to God that Hope doesn’t die in me. I just hope that I am not putting myself in a further mess with this wish though!


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