When we entered, she went straight to her room and left me on the doorstep.
I didn't know whether to go in or stay in a hotel for the night. Sadia baji saw and said, "If you leave now, she won't believe anything you promise later on." I nod my head firmly, and step into the house. I won't leave without amending all my past mistakes. I won't leave from here without my mother's forgiveness.
Sadia Baji helped me to get settled into my room. It was exactly the same, she told me that abbu had stopped anyone from moving anything from my room. "He said that he knows that you don't like people moving your stuff, you will surely throw a tantrum when you return."
He believed I would return. He believed. He believed I would return and I did. Just not in time. I returned after he died.
A tear fell. Why? Why did I return after so long? Why did I let them suffer alone for so long?
I walked over to my sky and looked up at the dark chaddar that blanketed the earth during the night. Ya Allah! Please help me to rectify my mistakes. Help me become the son that I need to be for my mother. Forgive me for neglecting my parents! Forgive me for neglecting my sister! Forgive me for neglecting....you! Ya Allah! Please grant me sabr and strength. Only You can help me!
My heart pleaded with all its might.
All this guilt it has been eating me up for years on end. That's why I deemed myself as to be unworthy of returning to this home. To my parents.
I slowly made my way to my parent's room, actually my mother's room and stood outside. I lifted my hand to knock on her door and them immediately lowered it. I didn't have any courage.
Did I even deserve the honour of her letting me back into this house? Did I deserve to be her son? You would hear stories about how other sons would place the world at their parent's feet yet I had laid hell at their feet and ran off into the sunset only to return when everything had been destroyed.
I am a terrible son and brother.
Just before another tear was about to fall, I was pushed lightly by a force from behind. And then I heard, "You haven't been here for 3 years. You've finally come back, become her pillar of support, let her share her dard and dukh with you. Don't let this opportunity slip through your fingers."
I nodded at Sadia Baji and knocked on the door. She gave me warm smile and I entered when my mother's granted me access. With a deep breath and quick dua to Allah, I stepped inside.
The room exactly how it was 3 years ago. Dad's things thrown everywhere. Mum's collection of perfume's stacked on the dressing table. A Qaid-e-Azam portrait. Their collection of books. And the plants that dad had an obsession with, I remember after he had prayed Fajr he would go round the house tending to each and every plant and then he would check up on his vegetable patch outside. A small smile found itself onto my lips.
"Your remembering him, aren't you?" A coarse voice, a voice that I had been longing to hear since I got here. I nod my head nervously.
"I remember him everyday," she says with a small smile on her face. "I remember the day that my mother showed me his picture and told me I was to be married to him the following day. I remember after our Nikah, how he kissed my forehead and looked at me complete admiration, how he didn't force me into anything that night. I remember how gentle he was with me, he never once raised his voice at me, no matter how much I annoyed him or how much I was in the wrong. When I would realise my mistake, I would go to him to apologise and he would always deny me, saying that a wife never needs to apologise to her husband. I remember how he would never let me go to sleep angry with him. I remember his joy when you were born and his tears when your sister was born. I remember how some days he would come back from work completely shattered, but would still spend time with me or cook for me. I remember how he always stuck to his promises, just like how he stuck to his prayers. He helped me become a better Muslimah and he raised his children and the ideal Muslims as well. I can't thank Allah enough for blessing me with such a beautiful creation of His in this lifetime. I pray I reunite with him in Jannah as well. In Sha Allah!" She finished with a hopeful sigh.
"In sha Allah." I echo her words.
In this time, I had made my way over to my mom, and had laid my head in her lap. Something that I had longed for, for years.
Tears had made their entrance now and I sobbed, cried and wailed. I let it all out.
When I finally calmed down, "Please forgive me muma! I won't ever get abbu's forgiveness so please bless me with yours. I know I am a terrible son. I KNOW! But I promise that I'll improve, I'll make it up to you. I promise!" I cry.
She turned her face away from me, "Jawad, please don't make promises both me and you know that you won't be able to keep. Aside from that, I have already forgiven and your father was never upset with you that you would need his forgiveness, he understood you. What you were feeling and why you left. But I didn't, he tried to explain it to me many times, but I just wouldn't get it. And now I do. I see you've become a great man, the situations of life have transformed you and I am proud to call you my son. From fighting for education rights to our corrupt police force, I have read all your articles. any piece of work that was marked with your name. I have read it all and I'm so proud of you. So proud. I'm grateful that Allah blessed me with you." She says as she embraces me into a long over due hug.
The role of a mother is an amazing one, indeed. There is no one who will can replace a mother, her love, her embrace and her pearls of wisdom. Cherishing your mother is the best you can do. Listening to her advice and following it.
I think to myself as I embrace her back. A warm feeling which I missed over these 3 years.
Ya Allah! Thank you for granting me another chance with my mom!
I hope I can make it worthwhile.
******
Hey guys!
This chapter was sort of a drag.
But keep an eye out for the next one. Things are going to get interesting! *Rubs hands evilly like a Disney villan*
And I need to ask you guys something, is it weird that I have already written like half of the Epilogue?🤔
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Broken Souls ✔️
FantasyPREVIOUSLY NAMED 'Broken'. The story in which an author tells her tale to a journalist on she lived her life and how she reached her success. But it's not all rainbows and cupcakes, in fact it's not at all rainbows and cupcakes, it's devils and mons...
