Its incredulous how things just
happen and you’re thrown from way up to all the way down, smashed into a wall
with such force that leaves you reeling, or plunged into an ocean so deep that
you sputter for air. And then its equally incredulous when howsoever battered
and bashed you are, you inch, you climb, you lick your wounds and you draw that
agonizing rattling breath, but you do.
Everything written and said about
life seems so cliché that nothing seems to strike a chord anywhere now. But
having experienced the single biggest tragedy one could face, my perspective on
a whole lot of things has changed. Seeing your mother pass away right in front
of your eyes when just a moment ago she was having a Sunday morning like any other,
chatting, bundled up in a quilt because of the freakish cold, well yes, to say
that my world turned upside down is quite an understatement. Permanently etched
into my being are those life-turning, chilling moments: my brother’s yell when
she suddenly collapsed, her wide-open eyes, the pulse I wildly tried to feel
but couldn't, my plea, ‘Amma, can you hear me?!’ over and over again, her head
nursed in my hands and her eyes locked with mine while we rushed her to the
nearest hospital, the desperate prayers uttering from my lips as I promised
Allah everything in return for her life, the hope till the last moment that she
would be fine, she’d get through this. But the second the flat line on the ECG
monitor appeared my anguish multiplied manifolds. I could feel my prayers
getting wasted and I fought with Him, why her? WHY? She was good, she was the
best, then why take her? Why make us suffer? Each second felt infinite. The
world just vanished around me and my family. All I could perceive was the ER,
my mother.. my rock lying there needles stuck into her arms, intubated,
vigorously being resuscitated; my brother and me who could not in the world
understand what was going on; my father trying his best to hold us
together, saying words of hope over and
over again. But there was little solace. For the hour had silently crept upon
us and she was declared. In a matter of an hour, everything as I knew it,
changed.
And then came the phase of utter,
numbing disbelief. The one where you actually feel the world collapsing around
you; the single wave of overwhelming hopelessness that wipes out your every
will to live and where I actually questioned everyone around me, ‘She was my
everything. How can I now live?’ The tears halted after hours, but then again a
waterfall would gush. I felt I was punched deep, excavated somewhere in my
chest, crippled. Every shoulder was one to cry on. I craved for a soothing word
from anybody. I wanted her alive and breathing, oh Allah knows how fiercely I
wanted that.
But seeing Death so closely
changes you. Changes people. Changes behaviors, beliefs, priorities. Somehow,
He fed ever so strongly in my heart not to be ungrateful, not repel what had
befallen us. There’s a Reason to everything that happens, there’s a Time for
everything to happen, and the knowledge of both rests with Him, and only Him.
Pain tears and shears you, but you’re the one who lets it cripple you. You can
let the pain drive you, but drive towards betterment and not fall into pits of
hopelessness. You just need to keep believing. The belief should overpower any
darkness.
I’m not talking leaps of Faith
here. I’m fully aware that as long as I’d live, I’d ache for her presence. Whenever
I’d close my eyes, those last moments would run like a film before my eyes
causing them to snap open. I’m familiar with the fact that the disbelief I experienced
on seeing her lifeless would never grow old- it’d be equally tormenting as it
was on day one. I know that I’d have to learn not listening to her reassuring
voice whenever I’d feel down. Everytime I see a mother-child bonding, I’m
filled with the feverish wish to have her around. But I suddenly had to grow
up. Because howsoever cruel the timing
seemed, fact is, it was pre-destined. There was no dodging it. And to sink in
despair would just be an insult to her memory. My mother was a fighter,
upholding virtue, dignity and truth at every cost. Following her footsteps was
the least that we could do.
And I wasn't totally deprived of
love. True, a mother’s love is unparalleled. But I saw uncountable number of
hands that rose in prayer for my success. I received care and affection from my
family through means I could never have imagined. It was this love for my
mother and thus for her family that urged everybody to instinctively nurture us
and get us up on our feet in no time and then keep us standing.
Its incredulous indeed that your
world can go topsy-turvy in a matter of seconds. But the bottom-line is, you've got to believe that the One doing that, is Capable of fashioning this world
best suited to you too. You just need to not give up.
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