At 3 am I am putting back the lamp that toppled over. The glass on the floor that didn't shatter. Wiping the water from the iPad. The suitcase he flung out the room has been put back. The pack of printing paper flung across the room is resting on the laundry bin again, now upright. I've picked up my clothes and the blanket he threw in the ground, and washed the mascara and eyeliner staining my cheeks. My wrist is a little swollen again just like a few days ago where you grabbed it to get my phone out of my hand. My gold chain is broken because it got caught in the tussle, that will take longer to fix.
Don't worry about my heart. It's been broken so far past repair it doesn't even need to be considered anymore.
..........
You get more and more violent.
Today all this because I hid your keys so you wouldn't drive drunk.
We grappled over my phone and then I had to push you out of my way so I can flee the apartment.
A few days ago you punched my cereal box down for...I don't even remember now.
A few days before you grabbed both wrists so hard they were sore for days, because I said to you I wish your mom taught you some manners when you had cursed me out again.
This is all after that time you had dragged me by the feet out of the car a few months ago and begged for forgiveness afterwards because you couldn't believe you had lost control.
..........
I don't even flinch anymore when you call me fucking idiot or fuck you or bitch or chutiya.
I've become so desensitized to it after 6 years of such drunken love talk.
..........
Tomorrow we wear our smiles and go about our day again.
Be a good daughter a good sister before die trying to be a good wife.
Seems we never learn our lesson.
I promised I wouldn't let any man lay a finger on me after what happened to my mom but here we are.
Keep swimming,
E
Sunday, November 25, 2018
Monday, November 5, 2018
Sunday, November 4, 2018
Where are the men
Where are the men?
The ones who won't hold my wrists tightly in theirs
And ignore my silently agape mouth while
Trying to find their way to my young breast
The ones who won't ask for my mind and my soul and my body
At their disposal, convincing me of soul mates and connections
And then remember, after having me, promises, parents, others
And forsake me in the cold
The ones who won't gather my wrists, despite knowing of my nightmares about them,
And hold me against my will to silence my anger
Punching the wall being my ear and later say
Why are you angry?
I never hurt you. I never raised a hand at you.
The ones who won't make my mother cry
Disrespect her, subjugate her, remind her of her inferiority
And yet tell me, their daughter, I should not take shit from no man.
Where are the men
The ones who won't take anything from me
Where are the men
The ones who won't suck the life and soul out of me
Where are the men
The ones who won't leave me barren and dry
Where are the men
Who are tender, who love, who give, who cause no pain
Perhaps this is why they call this limbo I'm in
The in between places...No man's land
Where lost souls go to roam
Where are the men?!
There is none.
In no man's land.
The ones who won't hold my wrists tightly in theirs
And ignore my silently agape mouth while
Trying to find their way to my young breast
The ones who won't ask for my mind and my soul and my body
At their disposal, convincing me of soul mates and connections
And then remember, after having me, promises, parents, others
And forsake me in the cold
The ones who won't gather my wrists, despite knowing of my nightmares about them,
And hold me against my will to silence my anger
Punching the wall being my ear and later say
Why are you angry?
I never hurt you. I never raised a hand at you.
The ones who won't make my mother cry
Disrespect her, subjugate her, remind her of her inferiority
And yet tell me, their daughter, I should not take shit from no man.
Where are the men
The ones who won't take anything from me
Where are the men
The ones who won't suck the life and soul out of me
Where are the men
The ones who won't leave me barren and dry
Where are the men
Who are tender, who love, who give, who cause no pain
Perhaps this is why they call this limbo I'm in
The in between places...No man's land
Where lost souls go to roam
Where are the men?!
There is none.
In no man's land.
Monday, October 22, 2018
I used to wonder what it would feel to be in the headspace of someone who committed suicide. But I know now. If it wasn't for religion making it prohibited I might have done it myself.
The resources people give you are terrible. You call help lines and counselors and they ask for your personal safety. If you tell them yes you get a cop and really with current climate, are they any sympathetic to a female of color?! Or you get an ambulance to take you to the most depressing place in the world...a hospital.
If you say no you'll get a generic counselor saying Im sorry that must be hard, how did that make you feel? Over and over again over thirty and if you're lucky, sixty minutes, with a follow up email suggesting you reach out and call an appointment with a counselor or psychiatrist and a promise to follow up.
You're asking a person whose hysterically crying and telling you they have no desire to even get out of bed and eat to scan a list of counselors and try making an appointment?
Have YOU tried making an appointment?
Over two hours of calling later one lady picks up who said S would never be able to leave his problem and his mom died due to her own fault.
Great counseling.
If by chance you are lucky someone returns your call, 9/10 times they won't accept insurance.
Wait they accept insurance? They can only see you in the middle of the workday five weeks from now.
Forget the medical system. When things got really rough for me I reached out to who I thought were my good friends who promptly started ignoring me. Most people will keep you at arms length and why shouldn't they?! Compassion is time consuming and time is money. And people are too strapped with mortgages and car loans and credit car debt to care for you.
Those that don't have that don't have compassion..
Either way. In short. You're fucked.
Even your best of friends will check in occasionally until life consumes them. Life consumes everyone. So what if it consumes you too?
No one truly cares at least on an ongoing basis until you're truly gone and then the I didn't see it Coming and not her starts.
Really?
Didn't see it coming?!
I've been fighting with myself and reaching out to numerous people openly saying I'm in a bad place I need help and. You get a short time band-aid and that's it.
I've been masking and masking and masking for so long I've truly become dysfunctional. A walking zombie going through the motions of my day waiting for it to be over, 1 more day closer to death or relief.
Kia dua karun?! Ay Allah swt enough? Tried that. This is more than I can bear. I'm broken and I have nothing left to give. I'm losing my mind. Relief? Tried that.
There's nothing but darkness and I'm lost in it. I get maybe a day or two of light and then it'd back in this hole where I literally can't manage to stand up. I.
Did I ever mean anything to anyone enough that my life was worth saving?
For how long would it destroy parents and siblings, my loss? Is that a lesser time than what I currently have the energy and courage to endure?
At times the answer is yes. Those are the times when you pull the trigger or tighten the noose.
Spinning in ashes.
E
The resources people give you are terrible. You call help lines and counselors and they ask for your personal safety. If you tell them yes you get a cop and really with current climate, are they any sympathetic to a female of color?! Or you get an ambulance to take you to the most depressing place in the world...a hospital.
If you say no you'll get a generic counselor saying Im sorry that must be hard, how did that make you feel? Over and over again over thirty and if you're lucky, sixty minutes, with a follow up email suggesting you reach out and call an appointment with a counselor or psychiatrist and a promise to follow up.
You're asking a person whose hysterically crying and telling you they have no desire to even get out of bed and eat to scan a list of counselors and try making an appointment?
Have YOU tried making an appointment?
Over two hours of calling later one lady picks up who said S would never be able to leave his problem and his mom died due to her own fault.
Great counseling.
If by chance you are lucky someone returns your call, 9/10 times they won't accept insurance.
Wait they accept insurance? They can only see you in the middle of the workday five weeks from now.
Forget the medical system. When things got really rough for me I reached out to who I thought were my good friends who promptly started ignoring me. Most people will keep you at arms length and why shouldn't they?! Compassion is time consuming and time is money. And people are too strapped with mortgages and car loans and credit car debt to care for you.
Those that don't have that don't have compassion..
Either way. In short. You're fucked.
Even your best of friends will check in occasionally until life consumes them. Life consumes everyone. So what if it consumes you too?
No one truly cares at least on an ongoing basis until you're truly gone and then the I didn't see it Coming and not her starts.
Really?
Didn't see it coming?!
I've been fighting with myself and reaching out to numerous people openly saying I'm in a bad place I need help and. You get a short time band-aid and that's it.
I've been masking and masking and masking for so long I've truly become dysfunctional. A walking zombie going through the motions of my day waiting for it to be over, 1 more day closer to death or relief.
Kia dua karun?! Ay Allah swt enough? Tried that. This is more than I can bear. I'm broken and I have nothing left to give. I'm losing my mind. Relief? Tried that.
There's nothing but darkness and I'm lost in it. I get maybe a day or two of light and then it'd back in this hole where I literally can't manage to stand up. I.
Did I ever mean anything to anyone enough that my life was worth saving?
For how long would it destroy parents and siblings, my loss? Is that a lesser time than what I currently have the energy and courage to endure?
At times the answer is yes. Those are the times when you pull the trigger or tighten the noose.
Spinning in ashes.
E
feel like writing but not sure of what.
maybe I need to focus on the article I read yesterday about self-forgiveness. Find all the excuses for the mistakes I made, write them out, air them out, face them square, stop grovelling with myself for their acceptance, let my rationality stare them down until they hide in the shadows, and then maybe then... i can embrace the quivering little girl for making the huge mistakes she made.
maybe that's the first step out of this sticky spider web.
i can't help this girl crying in the mud right now because i too, am judging her, am mad at her, disappointed with her choices... i can't self-love if i'm so busy being so very very angry with my self.
self-love when it comes to crepes, sleep, netflix, reading books, swinging on a swing, retail therapy, beach, water, air, sun, is all just bandaids. self-love is when you help the struggling you stand up on her feet, wipe the tears and the grime, and nudge her back towards to her path.
stumbling but at least moving. harkat mein barkat.
this for the newnew. this for the 444. this for. holdingonandlettinggo.
eeda
maybe I need to focus on the article I read yesterday about self-forgiveness. Find all the excuses for the mistakes I made, write them out, air them out, face them square, stop grovelling with myself for their acceptance, let my rationality stare them down until they hide in the shadows, and then maybe then... i can embrace the quivering little girl for making the huge mistakes she made.
maybe that's the first step out of this sticky spider web.
i can't help this girl crying in the mud right now because i too, am judging her, am mad at her, disappointed with her choices... i can't self-love if i'm so busy being so very very angry with my self.
self-love when it comes to crepes, sleep, netflix, reading books, swinging on a swing, retail therapy, beach, water, air, sun, is all just bandaids. self-love is when you help the struggling you stand up on her feet, wipe the tears and the grime, and nudge her back towards to her path.
stumbling but at least moving. harkat mein barkat.
this for the newnew. this for the 444. this for. holdingonandlettinggo.
eeda
Monday, October 15, 2018
middle
Sometimes we wish to sleep so
we can forget.
Sometimes we wish to forget so
we can sleep.
I can't sleep
and I can't forget
E
what it feels like/losing my mind
anxiety feels like having too
many tabs open in your mind with jammed scripts
it feels like giving the dials to radio transistors to a child, multiple frequencies and voices blaring in your mind at different volumes at once
it feels like a tightness in your chest like having an invisible rubber band around your upper ribcage
it feels like a 30lb stone sitting in the middle of your lungs
it feels like breathing deeper and still feeling like you're drowning because you don't have enough oxygen
it feels like a migraine
it feels like a taut smile
it feels like forgetting a 10:00am call is actually at 10:30am
it feels like waking up after a night full of rushed worried stressful dreams only to realize that reality is no relief either
it feels like running a marathon in your sleep and running one while you're awake
it feels like rolling up a boulder with both shoulders up a steep incline, only to have it roll down again when you stop to take a breather
it feels like inadequacy
it feels like disorder
it feels like things being out of array
it feels like lack of control
it feels like wanting to crawl into a blanket and not coming out because of sheer muscle exhaustion
mental and emotional and physical
it feels like wanting to smile but not having the energy to
it feels like wanting to cry but not having the energy to
it feels like today
right now. this minute.
it feels like isolation. it feels like loneliness
it feels like being in the middle of a desert without a map at night
-eeda
it feels like giving the dials to radio transistors to a child, multiple frequencies and voices blaring in your mind at different volumes at once
it feels like a tightness in your chest like having an invisible rubber band around your upper ribcage
it feels like a 30lb stone sitting in the middle of your lungs
it feels like breathing deeper and still feeling like you're drowning because you don't have enough oxygen
it feels like a migraine
it feels like a taut smile
it feels like forgetting a 10:00am call is actually at 10:30am
it feels like waking up after a night full of rushed worried stressful dreams only to realize that reality is no relief either
it feels like running a marathon in your sleep and running one while you're awake
it feels like rolling up a boulder with both shoulders up a steep incline, only to have it roll down again when you stop to take a breather
it feels like inadequacy
it feels like disorder
it feels like things being out of array
it feels like lack of control
it feels like wanting to crawl into a blanket and not coming out because of sheer muscle exhaustion
mental and emotional and physical
it feels like wanting to smile but not having the energy to
it feels like wanting to cry but not having the energy to
it feels like today
right now. this minute.
it feels like isolation. it feels like loneliness
it feels like being in the middle of a desert without a map at night
it feels right now,
like me.-eeda
garbage
There are butterflies circling
my head
Yellow and blue likeTermites from my dreams. There is
Blackness by my ears the
Ringing inside the curtains inside
My head. Echoes are like
Looking through seaglass. Muffled my memories
I am living, loving in darkness again.
In shadows and secret no one
Will embrace me no one
Is proud to wear me on their sleeves the way
I wear everyone on my heart, yellow blue
Termite jewels in the blackness.
.....
Ode in pieces
You, honey words enough
To balm my aching heart spewing
Tar. lets hold off one night I don't
Have to dream of my clinging to your arm threading
Myself nimbly tenderly into your fragile
Fingers you push me roughly away from yourself
Glaring, honeyblack eyes I
Just need you to see to see to see me.
Just need to be seen.
.......
Pretty smart girls are seen
but not heard.
.......
This hole I have been in
before. Welcome back friend.
Haunted eyes I am the haunted
and the hauntingNightmare in my sleep nightmare
Awake.
.......
Choking
Letting go of summer sticky
sweetness, take
My fingers out of the poison
pot, greenLurid like vomit I have been licking
Like heaven food killing
Myself inside but convinced I am
Breathing here just fine.
......
Hollow madness this
Is what that looks like......
I will always have more love
to give than I get and that
Is my life's biggest tragedy
and myUltimate undoing.
....
-eeda
firsts
Aaj bhi khud se lardh leye
Aaj bhi tum ko yaad kiyaNa chah ker bhi is dil ne
Bhool jane se inkar kiya
Na subh tulu hona rukti hai
Na waqt kabhi tham jata haiMujh se bade ziddi aur bhi hain
Azma ke yeh jaan leya
Na Tum kabhi yeh samjho gay
Is zid mein kaise haar gayeAj phir tum hi jee gaye
Humne phir khud ko maar leya
Kia yaad karogay, yeh jeet bhi lo
Apne mein magun, khush rahoTum jahan ishq ke jhande gardh gaye
Hum ne waheen dafn hone per israr keya
-eeda
29
I have a tradition. Every year I write down the number of
things I learnt over the last year I want to remember the year ahead. Better
late than never, here's 29 at 29.
-eeda
1. Going through the loss of a loved one, planned or
unplanned, is the most traumatic thing you will ever experience. Death is a
part of life but loss doesn't get easier the more you lose.
2. I will never get used to sing goodbyes or walking away.
It is the most profoundly disturbing thing I have or will ever deal with.
3. You can fall in love again, but be careful who you fall
in love with.
4. There is no limit to how many times you think your heart
can break. Break it will.
5. Everyone you love will disappoint you at some point. You
have to learn to minimize expectations.
6. On that note, expectations are premeditated
disappointments.
7. For better or worse, life will continue to surprise you.
8. My hardest battle is fear, and of that, fear of
abondonment followed by fear of entrapment (in closed small spaces or held
against my will) followed by fear of failure.
9. Success does not guarantee contentment. Success does not
guarantee contentment.
10. Be careful of what things suck the soul of you. Because
everything you give yourself to, takes a bit out of you. Be careful of the
price you pay.
11. Don't ignore the red flags. Don't ignore your gut
feeling.
12. No matter what the world says, taking off your rosy
sunglasses that make it easier to cope, won't make things better.
13. Loneliness is the worst thing in the world (see fear of
abondonment)
14. Learning to selfsoothe is a very very very important
survival skill.
15. Self care does not equal selfishness. It does not come
naturally but you absolutely need it to survive.
16. To Love does not mean to have.
17. Yes there will be others who will have it all. Have ask
the love. All the family. All the success. All the friends. Kids. Houses.
Wealth. Deen. IT.DOES.NOT.MATTER. You are not behind. You are not late. Be
grateful.
18. Cherish your parents. No one will ever love you like
they do. No one will ever support you like they do. No one will ever forgive
you like they do.
19. That battle inside yourself? Stop fighting it. Forgive
yourself. Perfection is unattainable.
20. There is no knight in shining armor.
21. Learn to set clear boundaries around yourself. Do not
tolerate everything because of your fear of confrontation.
22. Stop letting fear rule your life.
23. It is not your job to fix everyone you love.
24. True happiness is in being loved without doubt.
25. No matter how dark or gets, always find a reason to
live. To keep going.
26. Things worth holding onto : your sanity, sense of
humor, generosity of spirit, softness of heart, kindness, honesty, Imaan,
optimism, ability to love unconditionally.
27. Things to let go off: fear, anger, betrayel, lying,
impatience, holding onto stress, inability to let go
28. You are more than the sum of all your problems
29. Your life isn't over yet. It is just beginning. Chin
up.
-eeda
E
lately
We accept
the love we think we deserve
Love is not
supposed to hurt.
I have spent
my life seeking love that hurt or making love hurt me because that was the only
way I knew for it to be real. Is it really love if it doesn't hurt?
Is there
anything in this world that doesn't hurt?
Everything hurts. When it doesn't hurt it terrifies me. I wait with
bated breath for it to break because.
Well
because.
Revelations
…………………
Wad duha.
There is darkness but you are not foresaken.
Two people today said to me today I exaggerate things. Worry too much. Care too much about everything. Too much "in" everything.
I don't take criticism well but I need to hear it because I'm so off balance. I need a break to literally find myself again.
I've been hear before when I lost myself. It took forever to come back to myself. It took getting down to the deepest part of the black abyss to realize I needed help coming back up, and that is when I had sought professional help.
I'm almost at the bottom again. I can see the depth through the black water reflecting my fear back at me.
I know I need help. Badly.
Which is why I'm latching onto every temporary band aid I find. People. Things. Food. Music. Sleep. But regardless into that blackness I must go to come out the other side. No point dragging hands and feet trying to climb out of it pleadingly.
Lets see where this goes. Spirals, skinned shins, sinking, senseless.
Facts. Let's stick to facts.
…………………….Two people today said to me today I exaggerate things. Worry too much. Care too much about everything. Too much "in" everything.
I don't take criticism well but I need to hear it because I'm so off balance. I need a break to literally find myself again.
I've been hear before when I lost myself. It took forever to come back to myself. It took getting down to the deepest part of the black abyss to realize I needed help coming back up, and that is when I had sought professional help.
I'm almost at the bottom again. I can see the depth through the black water reflecting my fear back at me.
I know I need help. Badly.
Which is why I'm latching onto every temporary band aid I find. People. Things. Food. Music. Sleep. But regardless into that blackness I must go to come out the other side. No point dragging hands and feet trying to climb out of it pleadingly.
Lets see where this goes. Spirals, skinned shins, sinking, senseless.
Facts. Let's stick to facts.
It's easier
to be numb.
I'm doing
all the things I do when I get into this mood.Push everyone away. Stop talking much. Stop eating.
Take sleeping pills and sleep alot. Started smoking again (0 nicotine ecig) and the relief was a amazing.
Listened to tiesto blaring. I remember when this happened in college and I went to that underground club and had danced all night.
Want to go dancing again. Want to close my eyes and lose myself and not think for a change. This is what this is. I want to put my life away on a nice little shelf and take a second to just breaaaatheeee. Process everything and everyone.
Self
destruct? I don't know what this is.
Liberation
or destruction.I don't know. I'm just dancing with my eyes closed. Spinning until something stops me.
Clouds and cliffs and smoke.
Chan kithan?
………………………..
It is not
easy this
Breaking
apart of things, relationships, people.………………………….
Maybe the
reason for this turmoil is just that. I need to find my way back. From the ram
to the doe.
……………………..
Aise berehem hogaye ke afsos-e-alvida na raha.
Eeda
disconnected
Something is really really off with me. I think this time I've pushed myself way past my limits.My sleep is off. My head hurts. Migraine. Nausea. My brain will not shut off no matter what I do or how tired I am. I'm anxious. Restless. Ears ringing. Head on fire. Scared something bad will happen any day now because I haven't had such a long peaceful stretch in a while. Vivid dreams that are leaving me confused. Feeling out of it. Disinterested. Unhappy. Crying alot more than usual. Don't want to continue living because don't see any reason for it. Don't want sex. Don't want to be touched. Don't care if anyone cares about me. Don't want to care about anyone either. Void. Limbo.
this time really feeling like crossed a new dimension.
-Eeda
this time really feeling like crossed a new dimension.
-Eeda
Saturday, July 14, 2018
wrapping up these pieces of me
This the room.
I had entered, newly wed
Starry eyed, 23
Uprooted everything, repainted
The walls, the doors, the siding with
My sweet innocent dreams.
Laid the laminate floor
Panel by panel like building
Blocks to my soul, interconnected
Mine with his
We
Hugged here and danced
On these floors while cooking
And making
Food, memories,
Love. I still
Remember the sweet hot
Summer nights we laid in each others
Arms and spoke of the future
Children. Careers
Travel. Us.
How you had hugged me
That one time the basement flooded, how
We got rid of the fleas the cat
Bought in. And the dead
Bird. How
I set my first living room with $550 and
How I proud I wad of the warmth it bought others
And to my own heart.
I've forgotten the bitterness, the tears
The feeling of being caged, some
Cages are better than others. My
Adult heart and old eyes look
Fondly now at the nest we had built
Now crumbling. I miss
The tender naivete I can still
Sense her presence walking around. Building
Hopeful
Optimistic
If only she knew what was to come.
If only she knew one day she would be sitting here
Wishing for simpler days
Wishing for the happiness unlike any she had ever known
Wishing for the love unlike any she had ever felt
Wishing for her youth, her sweet tender eyes
And his sweet tender hugs
If only she knew.
Eeda
I had entered, newly wed
Starry eyed, 23
Uprooted everything, repainted
The walls, the doors, the siding with
My sweet innocent dreams.
Laid the laminate floor
Panel by panel like building
Blocks to my soul, interconnected
Mine with his
We
Hugged here and danced
On these floors while cooking
And making
Food, memories,
Love. I still
Remember the sweet hot
Summer nights we laid in each others
Arms and spoke of the future
Children. Careers
Travel. Us.
How you had hugged me
That one time the basement flooded, how
We got rid of the fleas the cat
Bought in. And the dead
Bird. How
I set my first living room with $550 and
How I proud I wad of the warmth it bought others
And to my own heart.
I've forgotten the bitterness, the tears
The feeling of being caged, some
Cages are better than others. My
Adult heart and old eyes look
Fondly now at the nest we had built
Now crumbling. I miss
The tender naivete I can still
Sense her presence walking around. Building
Hopeful
Optimistic
If only she knew what was to come.
If only she knew one day she would be sitting here
Wishing for simpler days
Wishing for the happiness unlike any she had ever known
Wishing for the love unlike any she had ever felt
Wishing for her youth, her sweet tender eyes
And his sweet tender hugs
If only she knew.
Eeda
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
As things go from bad to worse Eeda.. I want you to remember this
There is no knight in shining armor.
There is nobody who will come for you in the middle of the night to save you because you are terrified.
Nobody who will surprise you because you are scared
Or alone.
Pity me doesn't work.
Need you definitely doesn't work.
Stop expecting people to do things the way you would in their shoes.
YOU are your own knight in shining armor.
You are the knight, the gold the silver the brass of the armor, the savior the salvation the hope and the dream.. Its just YOU that needs to save yourself when you are alone or terrified or broken or sick or exhausted.
Don't you DARE depend on anyone.
Ever again.
You silly child. You were born for greater things than relying on men.
Let the drowning man drown Eeds.
Save yourself.
No one's coming.
There is no knight in shining armor.
There is nobody who will come for you in the middle of the night to save you because you are terrified.
Nobody who will surprise you because you are scared
Or alone.
Pity me doesn't work.
Need you definitely doesn't work.
Stop expecting people to do things the way you would in their shoes.
YOU are your own knight in shining armor.
You are the knight, the gold the silver the brass of the armor, the savior the salvation the hope and the dream.. Its just YOU that needs to save yourself when you are alone or terrified or broken or sick or exhausted.
Don't you DARE depend on anyone.
Ever again.
You silly child. You were born for greater things than relying on men.
Let the drowning man drown Eeds.
Save yourself.
No one's coming.
Monday, May 28, 2018
Anguish
My heart my heart my heart I left behind.
I'm screaming on the inside. Just ask me once. Are you ok?
No I'm not.
Do you need help?
Yes. Yes I do.
Mein kia karun?
Mujhe bacha lo. Yahan se le jao.
Bus.
Screaming screaming screaming on the inside.
Help
Help
Help
I'm screaming on the inside. Just ask me once. Are you ok?
No I'm not.
Do you need help?
Yes. Yes I do.
Mein kia karun?
Mujhe bacha lo. Yahan se le jao.
Bus.
Screaming screaming screaming on the inside.
Help
Help
Help
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
Yes you can
Breathe
Remember the glimpse of him you saw when he hugged you and held you at the beach
Breathe
Remember all is not lost
As you stick your head out the window and sang, what is it that you did in gulps and lung full, embracing the moment? You
Breathed
When he poured his heart out to you in the car and you finally remembered what it felt like to love him even fleetingly? You
Breathed
When you drove to the house and remembered driving up the first time and throwing up at the curb and late night walks and remembering how it was you smiled at him and he smiled too you remembered you used to
Breathe
When he kissed you like he meant it and you felt it like you used to
That is how you had, all those years ago, learnt how to
Breathe
So now when he says the words about you and his dad and the heartache so deep it takes your breath away, when he curses and cries and you have to get your own iftar after driving 2.5 hours and cleaning and chores and cooking all day yesterday and sehri and his drunk behavior at night and how you just stormed out of the house heart in your mouth heartbeat in your lung but not much else and you want to scream for it to stop because you can't breathe
Remember Eeds
Its just the moment. You know how to breathe. Remember you know how. Remember the love. Remember that you can and that you have and that you will. Remember this is just a moment and it is not invincible, You are.
Breathe my jaan. Inhale. This too shall pass.
Breathe.
I can't breathe
I can't breathe
Yes you can
Breathe
Remember the glimpse of him you saw when he hugged you and held you at the beach
Breathe
Remember all is not lost
As you stick your head out the window and sang, what is it that you did in gulps and lung full, embracing the moment? You
Breathed
When he poured his heart out to you in the car and you finally remembered what it felt like to love him even fleetingly? You
Breathed
When you drove to the house and remembered driving up the first time and throwing up at the curb and late night walks and remembering how it was you smiled at him and he smiled too you remembered you used to
Breathe
When he kissed you like he meant it and you felt it like you used to
That is how you had, all those years ago, learnt how to
Breathe
So now when he says the words about you and his dad and the heartache so deep it takes your breath away, when he curses and cries and you have to get your own iftar after driving 2.5 hours and cleaning and chores and cooking all day yesterday and sehri and his drunk behavior at night and how you just stormed out of the house heart in your mouth heartbeat in your lung but not much else and you want to scream for it to stop because you can't breathe
Remember Eeds
Its just the moment. You know how to breathe. Remember you know how. Remember the love. Remember that you can and that you have and that you will. Remember this is just a moment and it is not invincible, You are.
Breathe my jaan. Inhale. This too shall pass.
Breathe.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Rage
silent screaming yellowredhot rage curling
inside from intestines intertwining with
reason rationale morality sanity
everything is lost
in a burning fire that rips
me to shreds i
don't know who i am is this
how burn victims feel when
they see trauma, nightmares of
burning houses screams and
no water no relief no one
to save them?
i want to scream
and scream
and scream i feel like i left
a child in the house that
burned down
(the child was me)
i'm
knee deep in ashes, quicksand i
cannot get up, cannot get out, cannot
do not cave
in, still and frozen, Medusa's
wrath i am goddess
victim, slain and
spared
which do i be grateful for?
what (who) do i mourn?
.....................................................................................
someone please light out the fire
it's consumed me.
-Eeda
inside from intestines intertwining with
reason rationale morality sanity
everything is lost
in a burning fire that rips
me to shreds i
don't know who i am is this
how burn victims feel when
they see trauma, nightmares of
burning houses screams and
no water no relief no one
to save them?
i want to scream
and scream
and scream i feel like i left
a child in the house that
burned down
(the child was me)
i'm
knee deep in ashes, quicksand i
cannot get up, cannot get out, cannot
do not cave
in, still and frozen, Medusa's
wrath i am goddess
victim, slain and
spared
which do i be grateful for?
what (who) do i mourn?
.....................................................................................
someone please light out the fire
it's consumed me.
-Eeda
Monday, April 2, 2018
Friday, March 30, 2018
Rollercoaster rides
Empty parking lots at 2am, panicked drives down main roads and voices voices voices
Voices from a dream voices whispering relief.
.......
A distraught father blocks my car, peers through my window. 2 am. "I'm sorry, I thought you were my daughters friend. I was going to call 911 on you, I'm so sorry"
Wandering souls in empty spaces, destroyed by selfish love, blood.
We are all just prisoners here, of our own device.
........
Words. Easier to imagine there's no face behind the voice, no beating heart beating in tune to yours. Easier to disconnect disassociate, than to cave in and surrender. Restraint becomes harder, cooks up misguided vitriol, spewed in guilt and shame. Yes I like this. Yes I need this. Yes. But not you.
........
Straining restraining bonds of leather love cut equally deep in soft skin. "How are your fingers so soft?" Some fresh bruises, raw, scab hard, some scab soft.
............
Vodka kisses, this
Is familiar, unwanted and
Wanted (when sober). Have
Your way with me, my life
How much of this is grief how
Much
An agenda for self
Annihilation
............
Neck shoulder back whispers whimpers spirals.
My lips are raw I bite
Down hard to keep this inside. Where to begin
Unravel
Ling.
............
There's so much more I want to write but I can't make sense of it amidst the noise in my head turmoil in heart guiltily remembering words that make my happy and yet break me apart. Senselessly spinning in circles, I'm always dizzy all the time but
Keeping perfectly still.
.........
-f
Voices from a dream voices whispering relief.
.......
A distraught father blocks my car, peers through my window. 2 am. "I'm sorry, I thought you were my daughters friend. I was going to call 911 on you, I'm so sorry"
Wandering souls in empty spaces, destroyed by selfish love, blood.
We are all just prisoners here, of our own device.
........
Words. Easier to imagine there's no face behind the voice, no beating heart beating in tune to yours. Easier to disconnect disassociate, than to cave in and surrender. Restraint becomes harder, cooks up misguided vitriol, spewed in guilt and shame. Yes I like this. Yes I need this. Yes. But not you.
........
Straining restraining bonds of leather love cut equally deep in soft skin. "How are your fingers so soft?" Some fresh bruises, raw, scab hard, some scab soft.
............
Vodka kisses, this
Is familiar, unwanted and
Wanted (when sober). Have
Your way with me, my life
How much of this is grief how
Much
An agenda for self
Annihilation
............
Neck shoulder back whispers whimpers spirals.
My lips are raw I bite
Down hard to keep this inside. Where to begin
Unravel
Ling.
............
There's so much more I want to write but I can't make sense of it amidst the noise in my head turmoil in heart guiltily remembering words that make my happy and yet break me apart. Senselessly spinning in circles, I'm always dizzy all the time but
Keeping perfectly still.
.........
-f
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
Monday, March 26, 2018
the most difficult thing is disentangling reality from fantastical romance.
there's been no roses. there was no proposal on one knee.
things are not how u imagine them in romance movies...the love is there, but in ways you wouldn't expect, and ways you can't see.
the difficulty is letting go of grudges about expectations, and to learn to love the other in the way they love you, not in the way you love them....which quite often are very distinct from each other.
a lesson in time.
there's been no roses. there was no proposal on one knee.
things are not how u imagine them in romance movies...the love is there, but in ways you wouldn't expect, and ways you can't see.
the difficulty is letting go of grudges about expectations, and to learn to love the other in the way they love you, not in the way you love them....which quite often are very distinct from each other.
a lesson in time.
Thursday, March 22, 2018
Monday, March 19, 2018
longing
aspirations.
voice over the shoulder, breeze below the wrist, touch on the arm, face next to cheek.
dreams.
i smell the sea salt in the shaker, the sea salt in the turquoise of the sea. i am gulping breaths of seaweed and salt and the sky and the golden sun, on the green hill, rolling towards the sand. the scene is imprinted behind my eyelids, alternate universes tattooed in the crevices we don't see but can't unsee. spaces between the fingers, pink under the nails, the flesh inside the elbow, the yellow of the inner arm.
hiraeth.
i am in longing for somethingsomeone of which i know not. running in my sleep, weary when awake, question marks in my soul.
poetic torment always inspired by a want so powerful it becomes need, wrings your soul and leaves you wanting, like sex, like food, like air. gasp,
fill your lungs and your toes with salt.
salt in my tears, salt in my tea, salt on my tongue, salt of the sea.
voice over the shoulder, breeze below the wrist, touch on the arm, face next to cheek.
dreams.
i smell the sea salt in the shaker, the sea salt in the turquoise of the sea. i am gulping breaths of seaweed and salt and the sky and the golden sun, on the green hill, rolling towards the sand. the scene is imprinted behind my eyelids, alternate universes tattooed in the crevices we don't see but can't unsee. spaces between the fingers, pink under the nails, the flesh inside the elbow, the yellow of the inner arm.
hiraeth.
i am in longing for somethingsomeone of which i know not. running in my sleep, weary when awake, question marks in my soul.
poetic torment always inspired by a want so powerful it becomes need, wrings your soul and leaves you wanting, like sex, like food, like air. gasp,
fill your lungs and your toes with salt.
salt in my tears, salt in my tea, salt on my tongue, salt of the sea.
Friday, March 16, 2018
he was sitting on the edge of the white headboard and as i leaned against it, my head nuzzled his left knee. his hand toyed with loose tendrils behind my right ear as i typed into my laptop, fresh white sunlight gently grazing through the window.
.....................
the scene shifts. we are walking on the pavement near the Mediterranean in Regatta. His hand is in the small of my back, guiding me down. I blink and I'm at the hospital corridor in LI. Mom's in the ICU. Blink and again by the sea.
His hand rubs my back, grabs my right arm preventing me from collapsing.
About my height, maybe an inch taller. messy black hair. round face with a pointed sharp jawline. goofy side smile usually but now, pursed lips.
......................
he shows me a black car. is it red? hazy, i can't recall. it's his car, his ex is selling. his eyes are red.
.....................
Blink
........................
A few months ago, he had waited by the dark stormy sea in his black leather jacket.
Grinning, smugly. Private joke he had made of me. All i knew was I had to get to him and I couldn't.
Hands in the pockets of the jeans, swaying with the breeze. Alone by the edge of the rock. Smiling.
.......................
Why am I having these dreams?
.....................
the scene shifts. we are walking on the pavement near the Mediterranean in Regatta. His hand is in the small of my back, guiding me down. I blink and I'm at the hospital corridor in LI. Mom's in the ICU. Blink and again by the sea.
His hand rubs my back, grabs my right arm preventing me from collapsing.
About my height, maybe an inch taller. messy black hair. round face with a pointed sharp jawline. goofy side smile usually but now, pursed lips.
......................
he shows me a black car. is it red? hazy, i can't recall. it's his car, his ex is selling. his eyes are red.
.....................
Blink
........................
A few months ago, he had waited by the dark stormy sea in his black leather jacket.
Grinning, smugly. Private joke he had made of me. All i knew was I had to get to him and I couldn't.
Hands in the pockets of the jeans, swaying with the breeze. Alone by the edge of the rock. Smiling.
.......................
Why am I having these dreams?
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
we think we are mountains of strength, moving with self-assurance between office corridors, head held up high on the street, conviction with which our feet pound the gravel, urban warriors, war-painted, shoulders back and pride in every step.
hold your fingers up to the sun and see your fingertips glow pink. nailbeds orange. our very fibers so translucent, a burning star millions of light-years away can illuminate right through the fragile tissues that make up, you.
so fragile, and yet so self-assured.
does it not make you fearful?
have you no fear?
what makes up your mountain that makes you so?
mountain my heart,
rocks where my soul used to be
hold your fingers up to the sun and see your fingertips glow pink. nailbeds orange. our very fibers so translucent, a burning star millions of light-years away can illuminate right through the fragile tissues that make up, you.
so fragile, and yet so self-assured.
does it not make you fearful?
have you no fear?
what makes up your mountain that makes you so?
mountain my heart,
rocks where my soul used to be
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
#thingstonotforget
AD:
you've got a gift. don't
lose it
in fact
don't lose that part of
you
eeda:
it gets buried down after
days and days of shi*. its been a lot of those kinda days.
i dont even know where to
start now
AD:
no matter how much shitty
days and how many days, there's always the person in you inside crying to be
free. i just dont want that person to be silenced like that. i do believe that
bringing back that eeda will help a lot
eeda:
ur right. i thought it
was easier to silence her entirely than to listen to anything she had to say.
it made things more
manageable when you have one less voice to cater to.
AD:
in my opinion, there are
other voices you can silence instead of her voice. like the voice that tells
you this is all neverending, or the one that tells you nothing's going to get
better, or the one that stops you from traveling or shopping or doing other
things you like
eeda:
ive honestly never
thought about it like that
Monday, February 26, 2018
Ode to my saas.
Ma.
i've been wanting to write this one for a while but everytime i felt close to, i would unravel in pieces of heart and mess of tears and the pain in knowing this was real.
so here's to you Mom. here's to knowing you for 5 and a half very short years. i will miss everything about you. i will regret everything about not having you here. i will regret that your grandchildren will never know the love, so much love, you had to give. i want to write every thing i remember about you, as clear as I can, so they never forget...so I never forget.
i'll miss the way, the very last time i hugged you and said 'kaha suna maaf?', as I always did, you looked at me pretend angry and scoffed. you couldn't be mad at me. and you gave me a long long hug.
you always had the best hugs. i wouuld bend at the knees to get to your shoulders, but you were warm, and soft, and you would draw me back in for a longer hug everytime i pulled away.
i will miss kissing your forehead at night before saying goodnight.
i will miss your small, size-6, feet. your anne klein peep toes with the platform heels in 3 shades. the only close heel shoe you ever wore. the fact you hated socks, and wouldn't let me touch your feet.
'humaray haan betiyan pair nahee chooti'
i will miss 'kidday juli aen?' my first 3 word punjabi sentence that would have you in fits of proud laughter whenevre i said it.
i will miss you griding your hand on your palm, saying 'chut chorsan', everytime you were mad at S forgetting to throw the garbage out. (and promptly forgetting evrything and hugging him the minute he walked in through the door)
i will miss you wanting challi (corn), your absolute favorite, and us driving around in Suffolk in winter looking for farms. butter and steamed, or red mirch and salt and pepper.
Chowkandar gosht (which you hated to peel), arvi (which gave you a rash), rajma (which you loved), ultay taway per roti and gol loyee wale parathay (your small beautiful white hands) lo mein (your absolute favourite) Chinese from Fatima's (beef on a stick), getting me hooked onto creme brulee (i will never be able to have again without thinking of you), wings (everytime, all the time, any kind), veggie pizza (must have broccoli), lal mirch flakes, lassi (only for days you couldn't get the food down), bubble tea (so many late nights looking for it..always the taro) coffee (only french vanilla), paan (meetha), chaat (papri and samosa, both..but not really a fan of gol guppe), falooda (tooso wala was best), kulfi (eik munh men eik hath men for later), mashed potatoes, butter pecan ice cream (protected it with your life, more pecan the better), bananas (the green kind only), kala namak, chai (doodh wali, 30 minutes ubal ke, two tea bags), tobbaco (''meri purya kahan rakh gayee ho''), no chicken, no tomatoes (''yeh larki har cheez mein timatar dalti hai''), and of course, 'kabhi koi sabzi phal kha leya karo'.
i will spend my life regretting i didn't do more when i could have, and lord knows i did the most i could have.
lilies. pink blossoming ones.
all kinds of fake flowers. small ones usually.
planting cacti in glass bowls and small planters (the multicolored one that sat on your windowsill)
pastel colors. lights blue. baby pink. cream and white.
no brown (dark brown, light brown, mustard, yes, even mustard) or dark colors. occasionally black.
linens and lawn. no georgette, maybe some chiffon. never band gala (collar neck), always dupatta. never trousers, and though she would joke about wearing jeans and being a modern saas, always shalwars.
people watching. for HOURS ('mujhay is banday se achi read nahee arahee hai') eye of the detective and literally, being a witness to a crime witnessed out from the kitchen window, a man being beaten by a baseball bat. watching out the small window that looked to the backroad and the car park and the garage, the first thing i used to look at as we pulled in, to see you waiting for us. intuitiveness. curiosity. courage. a poetic heart. verses for every moment. songs (noor jahan) lat uljhi your favourite, and kaghaz ki kishti. nusrat fateh ali's mai ni mai and saddan chiriyan da chamba (the original) always made you cry, and heave in pain (haey babula, itna pyar kiun kitta?) the pain your kids heave with now.
('tum hamesha aisa ganay kiun lagati ho mujhe eik doosri duniya men lejate hain')
late night walks on the boardwalk. holding my hand and resisting, but walking into the water with me, pretend angry as always while i laughed. S took a picture of us, holding hands and our shalwars/jeans, feet in water, summer night sky and the smile plastered on my face.
kahan kahan nahee yaad karungi apko Ma.
'paidi shakal' (my cat). Beds-toyee-vesant boulevard in New York (S and you had laughed for a long long time on that one). telling us stories. so many many stories. Tui ne kameez kha li. falling off a canoe in Minnesota. the dastarkhwan of your baday Taya. Pappu, your first love. your laugh.
you are not just a person. you were so much much more than that. there is so much we have lost, are are losing.
your duas. sitting with you by your jaanemaz as your prayed. on your bed with my head in your lap watching tv. taking you to doctor's appointments. having you check my blood sugar (which I hated. the needle prick), checking S's and saying 'haey bubby! itna meetha na khaya kar'. promptly having meetha yourself.
phone calls. late night phone calls to vent to you when in a fix. your consel. your duas. your green janemaaz. your namaz ka dupatta (one of which my prized possession now). your tasbeeh clicker, always on your right hand pinky.
gardening. your plants. raat ki rani and the rose bush. tulips that came every year. the persimmon tree two houses down (you loved them,both flower and fruit)
pride. your fierce pride for who you were, your family, and your kids. your overwhelming, enveloping love. even your ghussa was like you, contained, at worst, silence, at best, a quick loving word and you would melt.
firoza. your favourite stone. your many rings. your hands. you loved it when i grew my nails, you held my hands and told me to keep it that way. you said Pappu liked girls hands to be well-kept, and nails to be painted. your insistence i wear chuddiyan (of course, gold) and your happiness when I did.
your hair. always a little unruly and tied into a small bun at the back of your head, put up by two or three black hair pins. we would take turns tucking the loose strands from your face behind your ears. filling in your eyebrows, doing your eyeshadow (pale golds), light pink lipstick.
selfies. more with me than with any of your kids. not knowing how to smile and looking grumpy in all your pictures. then not liking your pictures. the massomiyat on your face. doe eyes. hasmi kajal, or surma.
telling sheerin that i was like a daughter, and had been more than a daughter to you. how much you loved me. the hordes of people at your funeral, telling me how much i was loved, how much you complimented me, how lucky i was.
Mohs's 'there's a special place in heaven for you bhabhi, for everything you did for her'. No, there's a special place in heaven for her, for all she did for me.
i cannot imagine. absorb. understand. comprehend. in any way fully grasp, i will never see your face again. the thought if it pierces my heart, searing like an arrow. nothing had prepared us for this. no version of alternate reality in which we imagined for a slight second you wouldn't be here. every permutation of my reality held a vision of you, with us, reading to your children, making chai and hugging me goodnight, and good morning, like we did.
nothing prepared me for the abyss. for the void we are wallowing in.
i miss you so much, in between the slivers of my heart i hold you close. i cannot say a word lest he breaks. i cannot say it to anyone because saas? who cries for them. i do. everytime i think of you and my loss. i do. i cry and i pray for you and for Allah swt to give you the mercy and love you showed me when I was young and vulnerable.
Ameen.
So much more to say and not enough words to fully grasp what has happened.
Rest in peace Ma.
I miss you.
i've been wanting to write this one for a while but everytime i felt close to, i would unravel in pieces of heart and mess of tears and the pain in knowing this was real.
so here's to you Mom. here's to knowing you for 5 and a half very short years. i will miss everything about you. i will regret everything about not having you here. i will regret that your grandchildren will never know the love, so much love, you had to give. i want to write every thing i remember about you, as clear as I can, so they never forget...so I never forget.
i'll miss the way, the very last time i hugged you and said 'kaha suna maaf?', as I always did, you looked at me pretend angry and scoffed. you couldn't be mad at me. and you gave me a long long hug.
you always had the best hugs. i wouuld bend at the knees to get to your shoulders, but you were warm, and soft, and you would draw me back in for a longer hug everytime i pulled away.
i will miss kissing your forehead at night before saying goodnight.
i will miss your small, size-6, feet. your anne klein peep toes with the platform heels in 3 shades. the only close heel shoe you ever wore. the fact you hated socks, and wouldn't let me touch your feet.
'humaray haan betiyan pair nahee chooti'
i will miss 'kidday juli aen?' my first 3 word punjabi sentence that would have you in fits of proud laughter whenevre i said it.
i will miss you griding your hand on your palm, saying 'chut chorsan', everytime you were mad at S forgetting to throw the garbage out. (and promptly forgetting evrything and hugging him the minute he walked in through the door)
i will miss you wanting challi (corn), your absolute favorite, and us driving around in Suffolk in winter looking for farms. butter and steamed, or red mirch and salt and pepper.
Chowkandar gosht (which you hated to peel), arvi (which gave you a rash), rajma (which you loved), ultay taway per roti and gol loyee wale parathay (your small beautiful white hands) lo mein (your absolute favourite) Chinese from Fatima's (beef on a stick), getting me hooked onto creme brulee (i will never be able to have again without thinking of you), wings (everytime, all the time, any kind), veggie pizza (must have broccoli), lal mirch flakes, lassi (only for days you couldn't get the food down), bubble tea (so many late nights looking for it..always the taro) coffee (only french vanilla), paan (meetha), chaat (papri and samosa, both..but not really a fan of gol guppe), falooda (tooso wala was best), kulfi (eik munh men eik hath men for later), mashed potatoes, butter pecan ice cream (protected it with your life, more pecan the better), bananas (the green kind only), kala namak, chai (doodh wali, 30 minutes ubal ke, two tea bags), tobbaco (''meri purya kahan rakh gayee ho''), no chicken, no tomatoes (''yeh larki har cheez mein timatar dalti hai''), and of course, 'kabhi koi sabzi phal kha leya karo'.
i will spend my life regretting i didn't do more when i could have, and lord knows i did the most i could have.
lilies. pink blossoming ones.
all kinds of fake flowers. small ones usually.
planting cacti in glass bowls and small planters (the multicolored one that sat on your windowsill)
pastel colors. lights blue. baby pink. cream and white.
no brown (dark brown, light brown, mustard, yes, even mustard) or dark colors. occasionally black.
linens and lawn. no georgette, maybe some chiffon. never band gala (collar neck), always dupatta. never trousers, and though she would joke about wearing jeans and being a modern saas, always shalwars.
people watching. for HOURS ('mujhay is banday se achi read nahee arahee hai') eye of the detective and literally, being a witness to a crime witnessed out from the kitchen window, a man being beaten by a baseball bat. watching out the small window that looked to the backroad and the car park and the garage, the first thing i used to look at as we pulled in, to see you waiting for us. intuitiveness. curiosity. courage. a poetic heart. verses for every moment. songs (noor jahan) lat uljhi your favourite, and kaghaz ki kishti. nusrat fateh ali's mai ni mai and saddan chiriyan da chamba (the original) always made you cry, and heave in pain (haey babula, itna pyar kiun kitta?) the pain your kids heave with now.
('tum hamesha aisa ganay kiun lagati ho mujhe eik doosri duniya men lejate hain')
late night walks on the boardwalk. holding my hand and resisting, but walking into the water with me, pretend angry as always while i laughed. S took a picture of us, holding hands and our shalwars/jeans, feet in water, summer night sky and the smile plastered on my face.
kahan kahan nahee yaad karungi apko Ma.
'paidi shakal' (my cat). Beds-toyee-vesant boulevard in New York (S and you had laughed for a long long time on that one). telling us stories. so many many stories. Tui ne kameez kha li. falling off a canoe in Minnesota. the dastarkhwan of your baday Taya. Pappu, your first love. your laugh.
you are not just a person. you were so much much more than that. there is so much we have lost, are are losing.
your duas. sitting with you by your jaanemaz as your prayed. on your bed with my head in your lap watching tv. taking you to doctor's appointments. having you check my blood sugar (which I hated. the needle prick), checking S's and saying 'haey bubby! itna meetha na khaya kar'. promptly having meetha yourself.
phone calls. late night phone calls to vent to you when in a fix. your consel. your duas. your green janemaaz. your namaz ka dupatta (one of which my prized possession now). your tasbeeh clicker, always on your right hand pinky.
gardening. your plants. raat ki rani and the rose bush. tulips that came every year. the persimmon tree two houses down (you loved them,both flower and fruit)
pride. your fierce pride for who you were, your family, and your kids. your overwhelming, enveloping love. even your ghussa was like you, contained, at worst, silence, at best, a quick loving word and you would melt.
firoza. your favourite stone. your many rings. your hands. you loved it when i grew my nails, you held my hands and told me to keep it that way. you said Pappu liked girls hands to be well-kept, and nails to be painted. your insistence i wear chuddiyan (of course, gold) and your happiness when I did.
your hair. always a little unruly and tied into a small bun at the back of your head, put up by two or three black hair pins. we would take turns tucking the loose strands from your face behind your ears. filling in your eyebrows, doing your eyeshadow (pale golds), light pink lipstick.
selfies. more with me than with any of your kids. not knowing how to smile and looking grumpy in all your pictures. then not liking your pictures. the massomiyat on your face. doe eyes. hasmi kajal, or surma.
telling sheerin that i was like a daughter, and had been more than a daughter to you. how much you loved me. the hordes of people at your funeral, telling me how much i was loved, how much you complimented me, how lucky i was.
Mohs's 'there's a special place in heaven for you bhabhi, for everything you did for her'. No, there's a special place in heaven for her, for all she did for me.
i cannot imagine. absorb. understand. comprehend. in any way fully grasp, i will never see your face again. the thought if it pierces my heart, searing like an arrow. nothing had prepared us for this. no version of alternate reality in which we imagined for a slight second you wouldn't be here. every permutation of my reality held a vision of you, with us, reading to your children, making chai and hugging me goodnight, and good morning, like we did.
nothing prepared me for the abyss. for the void we are wallowing in.
i miss you so much, in between the slivers of my heart i hold you close. i cannot say a word lest he breaks. i cannot say it to anyone because saas? who cries for them. i do. everytime i think of you and my loss. i do. i cry and i pray for you and for Allah swt to give you the mercy and love you showed me when I was young and vulnerable.
Ameen.
So much more to say and not enough words to fully grasp what has happened.
Rest in peace Ma.
I miss you.
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