The Pain of Parting
“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” ― Kahlil Gibran
True isn’t it? You never know whether you were unconditionally in love unless you are separated from someone. Separating from anyone who remained imperative to you from your best till the worst of your life is the most devastating point. It’s a kind of a simile. While, I was young I had fallen on my knees, and the stitches I got over my wound gave me a memory to remember and a scar to hide. It’s the same here, ‘Separating or Parting’ gifts you memories and an irrevocable pain that must be hidden and dug beneath you.it is a difficult task for anyone to speak about their loss.
Well, now I am impatient to jot my views on this topic. I am suffering from mild cold and completely annoyed with a bad headache, but I can’t overthrow the will to lay my fingers on the laptop. I would defiantly want to write something new besides deliver something real instead of laying on the bed upside down. So where do I begin with? Umm…I should start with me I guess? Since my primary school days I have studied in and around 4-5 schools due to dad’s job transfers. And I have met more than 100 people of my age since my schooling (30 students In each class + 20 students from other classes knowing me). And i had around 10-12 best friends all the time to roam and gossip with. Few left, then the other walked in, no one mattered so much to me. I had no best friends. I was a narcissist. one day i bumped into a good friend in my 3rd standard , where i was nearly 9 years of age. She was a doctor’s daughter who lived in England and her mother was a nurse who stayed with her. She lived next to my flat. We spent time with each other doing homework’s, watching Britney spears, playing video games such as ‘claw ‘ on her computer, greasing our hands with ‘Nutella chocolate cream’, and talking about the future like we had a clue. I never realized that the both of us had ignored all our differences. ‘She was a Christian, I am a Muslim” ‘She was older to me and I was younger to her’ ‘She was slightly darker than me and I was fairer’. ‘She had pockets filled with money and I had empty ones’, she dreamt to become a singer and I dreamt to be her assistant’. Like thunderstorm wipes and snaps things within ,when it comes, her father’s one phone call took her away with him to where he stayed. She had to shift with her dad due to her parents’ divorce. I didn’t know what I felt back then. My father was happy, he could buy a bigger flat for us while my friend left me. Anika gave me her yahoo email address, and promised to call as she reached England. I kept on snatching the old modeled Nokia black & white phone from my parents and waited for long hours holding it. They knew that I would never get a ring from her. Because that’s how the world functioned. The next day after she left, we planned cleaning and dusting her place so as to shift our furniture to hers. My father had requested me to help him, knowing the reason behind why I was glum. I entered anikas bedroom which was mine now. I opened the cupboard she once used. It was all empty, I turned to my right, and stared at the drawings we sketched and stuck in her cupboard. That was the time I cried hard . I ran to my father grabbed his phone and deleted her number and tore the piece of paper where I had written her email address. Thereby, the time I was separated from her was the time I perceived that I loved her.
I know whats on your mind. Cheers to my ego? I should have called her, emailed her & not torn the paper into bits ? Ahem-ahem! That was the way i chose to handle a ’emotional break down’. I do google search her. More overly ‘It’s the thought that counts ‘. what if she is busy auditioning for American idol? I whole heartily wish, some bright fine boring day she accidentally reads my blog i strike her mind . Can that happen?
Every person faces that pain i am talking off. Even the animals must. They abandon their offspring’s to teach them survival. Do they feel the pain of parting away? Why wouldn’t they? Because they don’t whisper it into our ears? This week, I visited my cousin’s grand marriage. It was slightly unusual from all the other marriages. It gave me a story to inscribe, talk and ponder about. She has brother who is a twin from her other sister. He is tall, lean, with a perfect jawline and masculine body,with a long slender nose just as mine .He never talks on his own unless you talk to him, he never looks into your eyes and answers to you, and he would never ask for food and complain about bad its bad taste. He a just a living being which demands nothing. . He is physically challenged autistic and most treasured by his elder sister. It’s a tradition in our religion to assemble a separate function for the bride’s departure. All the relatives held her tight into their arms and cried for long. This guy stood at the corner and wiped tears off his face. I was petrified, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He had never showed any emotion to anyone ever since his birth. It wasn’t only me who knew this. So I went closer to him, I could see tears running down his cheek continuously. There was not an expression nor a speech to reflect what he felt as a brother watching his sister go away from him. what did he exactly feel? Did he regret that he couldnt say it ? He wasn’t completely normal as others. And though he could never say it he loved his sister.
Zaid Bhaiya we love you too brother. ❤
The pain of parting is a million times better than the fear of loss/separation. it makes you stronger where as the fear makes you anxious and weak. The moments you shared with someone is more important than the gap they left in your life. i convey this to my beloved friend sameera whose mother suffers from last stage cancer. May Allah talah blossom her life with happiness and the hardships die forever. Ameen.