The ferry ride to Eminonu to buy herbs and flowers

In memory of YB a dear friend and classmate, who grew up in front of my eyes into a caring, considerate and kind young man:  On hearing the news of his passing away, I walked to his sisters home……. in Istanbul:

I walk to his sisters home,

Grief slows my steps

In no eagerness to reach my destination

Where the mushaf of the Quran is kept

To complete my Khatma for him steeped in deep regret


Grief slows my steps

I walk by Obak Mar in this street of Istanbul

where he carried my groceries unasked in the brother’s role

And turn to the green doorway and pause

Where once he was and now it is no longer his abode


Grief slows my steps

I enter the bright room with the billowing white lace curtains

The table is gone as is the Korean Barbeque

His boyish pride in his culinary skills

Melting away my reservations for trying out red meat again.


The sweet fragrance of lavender on my balcony

Grief slows my steps

As the ferry to Eminonu takes off

With me and his spirit aboard

Anticipating the lavender and Rosemary

On the other side of the Bosphorus

He: always polite, gentle and caring

Me, surprised but grateful for his support

Griefs slows my steps

As I understand in an awakening moment

Why the lavender we bought in Eminonu suddenly wilted

As if it felt the sorrow long before it knocked at my door.


Grief slows my steps

As one by one I say goodbye to those who have loved me

Leaving me wondering……

When will I accompany them to the final destination?





6 thoughts on “GRIEF SLOWS MY STEPS…….

  1. Sister, Assalamualikum. It has been such a longtime since I have read your wise observation. i am so used to grief that I could feel every word in my heart. Even after 12 years, Nabeel and his memories are so fresh. My dua for you and Tariq.


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