This year the 14th of July didn't haunt me like it always did.. I didn't feel scared when I woke up this morning. Infact, I felt pretty normal when morning dawned upon me. I did not get that feeling of fear, anxiety and hopelessness. I did not break into tears. As I fumbled around with the newspaper I noticed the change in me, I felt grown up enough to understand that time lessens the pain, time definitely heals. I thought I am finally brave!!!
But I was wrong. As the moon lurks outside my window and the stars shine down upon me, I realize I am not through, I am still petrified what tomorrow morning might bring for me, what will be your situation, what will the doctor say, when will you come out of coma, when will the virus leave. All these questions ran through my mind when I left you in the icu and head towards a home without a mom, what's a home without a mother. I had to go home that night, I could not stay in the hospital lobby, you told me to go. We were in the car. As I rested in the passenger seat, in the car without the a/c, windows down, the cool breeze slapped my face in such a beautiful way that I remember so well. That thirty minute ride every night to home was the only peaceful time when my mind got a break, i wished that ride never ended bcx my self could not think more, could not ......
I still miss you, writing gives me a satisfaction nothing else can give. It makes me feel that I am sharing it with you..
7 years down, I wonder how many more I have to spend without you.
By Anjum Niaz There’s a dog in our neighbourhood that nobody wants. Actually it’s a bitch. Her litter is on the way, I suspect. The big patch of green bordering my home and the busy road in front is no man’s land (read the CDA) but the lucky homeowners have been gifted the land and told to develop it as best as their aesthetic sense permits. Gardens are abloom all around my garden (says who Islamabad will run dry?) which stands out for its pedestrian look, only because my landlord cares not a whit for the patch. But the dog does. She has dug a cradle under the tangled bushes and lies there unobserved by passersby on the street. I worry. What if the puppies — God knows how many — invade my space and arrive uninvited in my garden. Their mother may not live to feed them. She’s doing poorly. When she’s not sleeping, she’s scratching herself all over to get rid of the ticks and fleas that infest her body. The vicious summer heat has parched her. The sun is relentless. Down the road, I watch...
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