The fabric of our lives is slowly unraveling.
It all started one day when life was no longer of any value, or was too painful and meaningless to my brother who could gauge the insincerity of people without asking a single question and had continued to live trying to harden the shell that hid his vulnerabilities………..
I remember one clear sunlit day in Pakistan:
I was sitting with my brother Haroon, I a preteen with an avid interest in poetry, he a random reciter of poetry, and renowned in all circles for his photographic memory and his keen intellect.
He had been away on training for several months for a new position and had just returned home briefly.
All of a sudden, the doorbell which had almost retired into silence was ringing and his friends and our friends were dropping in like old times, unlimited numbers of tea cups were being imbibed while the philosophy of life was discussed with ardor and enthusiasm.
His friends seem to be seeing each other after a long time too……….as if all movements of friendship had ceased in his absence. I remarked on that fact and he replied:
Tha mai guldasta e ehbab ki bandish ki giyah
Muntashar ho gaey meray rufaqa meray baad
Roughly translated as “ I was the ribbon that tied the bouquet of my friends, they dispersed after the tie fell off”
I have often thought that was the beginning of the unraveling………he was the first to go.
The most sensitive, even if they hide it under a firm exterior are the first to be recalled. Allah Subhanwataala probably takes pity on them and removes them from the harshness of this world, some very early and some a little bit later.
After him my son left us, followed shortly by my mother…………..both sensitive souls, buffeted relentlessly by the sea of cynicism and materialism. Allah Subhanawataala gave them release and they left us, unraveling the fabric of our lives and our family further, making me realize that the order in which one leaves the misery of this world is not by age or by circumstance……….but something else far deeper and more profound that can only be seen with His (SWT) eye.
As the unraveling continues, a heart attack here and a growing weakness there, I feel the numbering of my days on the wall and as I await my portion of the pattern to unravel, I wonder if I left any Sadaqa e Jariya and will it be enough to give me some posthumous credit in the Hereafter?
The days are full of “running in place” and getting nowhere. At the back of my mind, I feel the clock ticking and I know that I need to get off the treadmill and clean house so that I can be ready for the move……….for I don’t know when the order for my recall will come and yet………..my magical thinking does not cease and I feel……….I will be forgiven for all my sins and that He (SWT) will embrace me effortlessly.
The sane part of my mind questions the disparity between wishes and actions, while my heart has a feeling that all will be well. While my head and my heart war with each other, fatigue over comes and another day passes while the fabric of our family lives continues to unravel stitch by stitch relentlessly………..