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I intend to pray nafil for my mother’s forgiveness’, that’s when my knees go weak. Feeling like they would give up at any moment.

Followed by a heavy sigh,  standing there on the prayer mat I continue the hardest prayer. Those words which I uttered felt alien to my tongue, every lymph of my body denied those words. My own words which I always feared saying.

It’s exactly been a year. An unbelievable year. A year full of “firsts”. First paper without you Maa. First travel without you Maa. First shopping without you Maa. First birthday without you Maa. Some where between cuddling mom and chanting about school to snuggling to self and letting those tears stream down letting the pillow muffle, I grew up. It’s been the first year and years would eventually march by with their own same rhythm. But nobody would ever get to know my pain.

The Last straw:

It was the last straw. The straw. The top cherry on the pile of my miseries. The last breath of her.

Her last breath sweeping clean every good thing from my life. The realization of her being not there did not even dawn on me. Totally, in contrary of the facts.

My every fear or issue glistens the hope to be solved one day but this one shall never be. Still thankful to Allah, even for giving me this much time with her. But God, that was too early? Wasn’t that?