~ With Love From Me to You ~

It wasn’t our first rain together, nor was the last one; we hoped. Its just a new sensation abridging our freedom of expression. 

It was a long… long - longing to have it, to hear that some clouds took passage through my city.
I was yearning to feel every droplet falling on my body and mesmerizing my soul. It comes with coolness of mind and strange affiliation with the past.

Remembering every ordeal occurring right out there … there did you see? Where the lightning overlay…exactly there. 

When the lightning flashes, it blossoms forth all the hidden objects, it unfolds a chapter of my heart so clearly, right out there where the lightning overlay. 

Here I was trying to act like a teenager, covering my petite appearance in the shawl made up of threads and diamantes over the border. 

There exactly there! I was jumping like a manic in water, assembled over the ground and I roughly started hoping with joy to engulf my extreme excitement. And sometimes i will sit on the damp stairs placing my feet over the ground to see drizzle rubbing them off peacefully, also a new pond in making . 

There at the top roof of the other house, walks a girl who was crying … crying in the rain, memories helped wiping off her tears. And I had my eyes, searching for her, measuring her moments so very carefully as if I will bat my eyelash; I will lose the game and will be stoned forever.

Suddenly a voice choked down this stargazer and I am sitting over the bench with her.  Her body language seems different this time as if she had to say a lot, as if those babbles were not just only driblets, they were the desires, passions, apprehensions, thinking and truth that I disliked the most, that one day I will leave her, this real peace of mind and this solitary me; sometimes confining myself to her to be taken care of, not to be sabotaged, giving a new look and fresh me, back to me.

She was my mother as she happened to sit with me to the right, I  felt something missing on my left.

She has a unique way to transcript her emotions. She makes you feel young in no time and cast you off her tribe that soon. I could look at her hands, the hardest look may be, the softest touch ever. When I try to place my hand to catch up with her finger tips, she smiles and sneers ‘You are not on me’. She will praise herself first and then all her projection will be towards my father that ‘he was really handsome ’.

And then she tells all the stories, she is a perfect story teller. My elbow touched hers many times as if escorting all the illness,oscillating for few moments and reassurance and that we love each other clueless. 

Without thinking about anything I seek her help, to look after me, know me more every day, and pacify me, my courage. And interestingly she never disappoints. 

We had a long lasting discussion. That’s how we socked our backs completely in rain , it was then we realized it was raining like cats and dogs.

This is my humble prayer for all mothers out there living or living peaceful forever, to have a beautiful sojourn here in this unpredictable world and have a most blissful eternal life there. Where someday, all of us will catch up with each other, sooner or later.

May Allah give them peace and put them in ease with all the tough occurrence of life. 

Your smile or memory made hugely pressurized days like chewing a chewing gum. Your presence is a peaceful sea facilitating everyone, your memories is the gush of air making us breathe.

Tujhey sab hai pata haina MAA!