An Epilogue For My Father

We lose , we mourn and we move forward.

This is for my father who abandoned me when I needed him the most at the peak hours of my life. The terrible situation left me in a situation similar to an orphan. With all that I could gather, I gathered myself at first. The last time I looked back, I saw I have crawled a big ocean with all my might, crawled through  hate, rejections and  with all my broken parts. You were missing.

That was not you. Or should I blame the stars for not aligning perfectly? I was waiting for a path where we can find eachother and communicate but unfortunately the path never existed. Everything is in my heart safe and sound as it should be. 

Now that you left me forever, all I can recall is the sweetest incomplete memories that could have been completed with proper good byes. Maybe we had a very long generation gap to fit our thoughts equally. Maybe I was not worth enough to be trusted in your perspectives. Maybe you were not ready to trust my approach. Well, whatever happened, there is still a child waiting for her dad to come back if anyhow and by any means it is possible just for a proper  good bye. A child is waiting  for her dad to say good bye just like he used to give good byes when he used to go at work.A child is waiting for her dad to say good bye when he used to leave her at school gate. A child is waiting for her dad to say good bye who used to leave home to go some far city. 

Because that child knows her dad will return home, pick her up from school and meet again somewhere, reconcile inside that little head. Recalling, revisiting and remembering while taking another leap in reality without her dad. That child loves her dad and she knows her dad loved her at the end of his day. He will love always.Because I believe he always did. 

Always 💔

How did the butterfly die?

How did the butterfly die?

The butterfly died because I was not available to look after my garden for a few days. I love gardening. I am not sure if there are other butterflies or not. Maybe there are moths, but I have not seen any butterflies since I came back, except the dead one. The ants were carrying it. I felt sorry for leaving this beautiful creature unchecked. 

 

A month ago, I received an invitation to attend the marriage ceremony of one of my friends, Zeenat. She is young, the eldest of her siblings, and used to be one of the brightest stars during her academic years. It was an arranged marriage. When I went to be part of her new beginning ceremony, she was gloomy. I was sure something was bothering her. And finally, I found her alone to have a one-on-one conversation to sort out whatever she was going through. I asked her if she was happy about the marriage to which she broke down and replied, "Being the eldest is difficult. Why is it that only the eldest daughter had to sacrifice for the sake of whatever was on the way?"

I was unable to give any answers right away.

I wish I could tell her anything to make her emotionally stable. This felt like a like a strange magma of emotion inside me. 

She continued, "I could not marry the man I love because he is not suitable for my family. This is rubbish. He asked for time so that he could set things right. I am marrying out of responsibility; I have no right to lead a life as per my will. My family thinks if I wait for him, I will be ageing, and what if he does not keep his promise? At that age, who will ask for my hand? What if he can't set things right?"

All I could say was, "We have our own duties and responsibilities, my dear Zeenat." 

To which she interfered and said, while her tears were screaming out in silence, "Responsibilities with compromises are suicide. Responsibilities are meant to be crowned, not imposed. I am feeling burdened for being a coward." 

I was clueless as to what I should say to calm her down and boost her energy to move ahead because it was her marriage day. It was too late to decide anything. I was with her from the Haldi ceremony until Vidaai. It was awkward to see a marriage between a broken girl and a man who might be full of life. God knows, maybe it is a marriage between two broken people. The 21st century is full of broken people and sh*t.

Her family seemed happy while she was in remorse of losing. Even though I don't know if this is too serious to discuss, I was scrolling through Instagram and found a post related to being the eldest daughter and difficulties. There was a flood of comments from various accounts, affirming that they were mostly the eldest daughters and had to go through harsh decisions in life, hanging between desires and compromises to fit in the unwanted shoe presented to them. 

 

While I was checking the dead butterfly being carried away, I was just thinking if the eldest son had to go through anything against his will to fit in the role of being an elder. 

___________________*****__________________

Thank you all for reading

Comments will be appreciated ♥️

Acknowledgement

Cover picture - Pinterest

Edit App - Canva ( Join Canva through the link and get to choose premium icon , photo or illustration for free. Also get a chance to collaborate with me)

Hear Me Out

Hear Me Out

We sink, we never move on. Last time I was happy, genuinely , when I saw the moon above going with me wherever I went. I was fascinated and bewildered with this thing that was happening. 

The realization got me paralized instead of awakening that so called "Inner self". That was just a kind of , can be said as, illussion.  I just want to go back to that me where I know nothing about realization. Fireflies were better than people. I thought, I will grow up as an adult and do whatever I want. Seems like , that was not the plan. 

I got into a pond of boundary, then I was given to go with the flow in the river, I thought sailing through sea would be best to explore the world and got forever stuck into the ocean when I tried to dive deep thinking it would be a marvelous adventure of once in a lifetime. 

Now, I am stuck like I sank into the water. If I ever want to speak, it will be impossible. It can kill me by filling up my lungs and the heaviness will drag me into the deepest trench. I just have to pretend to be a mermaid. 

A mermaid can move atleast but that is imaginary. I can move in imagination. The water in which I am right now is full of responsibilities along with judgements.  Responsibilities makes us to be reasonable and accountable while judgements of others makes us immovable. 

I cannot control the jugements but then I realized I can swim across and prioritize responsibilities to be reasonable and accountable as I should be for the sake of my own life. Judgements are going to be passed whether we valour or hide like a coward. I prefer triumph will taste better than regretting later. 

Move On

People move on.

People move on and get along with new moments, vanish like a magician like nothing happened. There can be no pretend to move on. No. 

Few wait,

wait a little in the hope,

few who were tormented to view their world falling apart,

A few gave up but could not move on.

How does it come as living with a scar?

There is no scar. Scars heal, don't they? 

I will say, "Die everyday with memories "

Memories, coming as some sort of sharp knife. Again and again.

What kind of memories break the ribs and push like a dagger through the heart? 

Aren't memories made to cherish and sooth? 

-@brewingblogging

Embracing the new Void

All I could remember is they gave me anasthesia and performed D&C procedure also known as Dilatation and Curettage process , in medical words a surgical procedure in which the cervix (lower, narrow part of the uterus) is dilated (expanded) so that the uterine lining (endometrium) can be scraped with a curette (spoon-shaped instrument) to remove remaining tissues of unborn who could not make it. In my words, it was letting go of newborn feelings of expecting and unborn feelings of post expectation. Even the void was felt as if filled with unexpressed everything that could have happened. Those instagram pages which was subscribed for tips and guide during pregnancy haunted me. The pop ups on my tracker app was squeezing my heart. We grew a feeling of something new, which turned into habit and departed leaving the numbness. 

All these are now gone and cannot be brought back. The pages don't haunt me anymore, the tracker is reset back to normal and the numbness is left with a new void that made a place to settle which was never there before. While depression held me in a cage, I realised on perspective of rational thinking, I can make a choice. A choice to embrace the new feeling that left me ajar for new beginning. 

My heart goes for those who went through such  trauma , any trauma but silently suffering. Which is absolutely fine because sometimes we alone need to take a stand to hold ourselves and no one can help in doing so.

Thank you for reading❣️

Thank you my beloved husband for all the efforts and love you shower always. 

A Part Of Mine

Edited on Canva App

Thank you for reading

If you can take time and write a feedback I will appreciate it. 

Keep reading and writing. 

Jubeda

If You Want to be You, Be.

 IF YOU WANT TO BE YOU, BE.

If you want to be a sailor,

But you are afraid of failure,

Fail, against the strongest sea storms,

Because you'll not learn to sail in the proms.

If you want to be a princess

But you are afraid to fight for fortress,

Fight, against the swords raised to bleed you,

Because you'll not learn swordmanship in cocoon.

If you want to be you,

But you are afraid of others'  hue,

Others will not be your rainbow and sunshine,

Be your own self and you'll be fine.

And so, if you want to be you , be.