When The Sky Cried by Aateqa Hashmi

by - Sunday, March 19, 2017

Her headscarf flickered in the evening breeze. By the sea, she was sitting on a bench with the woman who bore her. Just a little later, she would at last get to know him. He who had abandoned her before even letting her greet him. With enquiring eyes, she watched her mother. She, in response, could only swallow. She had wished she would never have to tell her daughter this.
It was he and I and nobody else. Really. I could see nobody besides him. He couldn’t, too, he said. We got married then. Oh! What a transition it was! We would talk and talk,our hands in each other’s.  I couldn’t deflect my eyes away from his face. And I didn’t. He was beautiful; I felt it more intensely with every dawn.
Our days full of humour, our nights full of stories. It was wondrous. It was more than I could ever dream in my dreams. And as my heart was accustomed to knit no expectations, I felt it all a dream. Just a dream. I feared to wake up in the same old, colourless, meaningless world. But no, it had really happened. It had had to happen.
And then, we got the news. How happy we two were. My lips trembled telling him and his eyes blurred. Then, that hug! It lasted longer than any.
It was getting dark by then. She, listening to her, let her feet rest on the damp bench now.
I was lying still on a hospital bed, like a sea at peace after a grand storm. Yet, I was unmindful of the upcoming catastrophic happening. The door opened. Finally the wait is over, I thought smilingly. I turned my head to quieten my heart. Yes, it was he. I extended my hand. He spat on it. I grabbed his sturdy arm. He slapped on my face. I was crying. He was roaring. Letting hot iron in my ears couldn’t hurt more than that word. 
DAUGHTER? he had said. And he went. For good. This time with no goodbyes, no ‘take care’. He left me with nothing but you. It happened, as I told you, because it had had to happen.
LOVE MAKES TIME PASS. TIME MAKES LOVE PASS.
I was devastated.
Her eyes had grown curious, excited and then dead. Her foot slipped and got still in the air. It happened the moment when her mother’s lips, drenched with water, started trembling.
So this is how it hurts to breathe. She wondered, in a detached way, why the green sea facing her remained so calm, so peaceful.
I joined a school as a teacher. I flourished there. You brought great luck with you, my dear. It benefited me, too. You were growing and I focused all my attentions on you. You were my new love. I found the shadow of him in you.
Her eyes had grown dry by then. So this was what her mother had always hidden from her. 

I found the world cruel that night. 
They say the hungry wolf is just a metaphor, but I found it to be true. They say that love is blind, but my brain rejected it. They say that life is not a bed of roses, I affirmed it. They say cruelty overwhelms good, but I stood up. For you, I stood up.
So she stood up too. For the acclaim she deserved. For the value she needed. For the dignity she desired. For all that she was deprived of before. She made a promise to each dark raindrop that made its path from her mother’s face to hers that she would stand up and be silenced no more. 
No more.

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