Expedition ... Continues

ظلمت کدے میں میرے شبِ غم کا جوش ہے

ایک شمع ہے دلیلِ سحر ، سو خموش ہے ۔

The sudden darkness causes her knock her feet against the side drawer, “Ya Rabb!!”, she calls out politely. Except for few stars shining infront of her eyes because of the pain, it’s completely dark around. The load shedding would continue for an hour and a half, but she knows how prolonged it’d seem. She searches her way out the room in order to light a candle. UPS is long gone dead, and the Petromax lamp is so out of reach. She has already tried calling a number of people last week to repair the UPS, but no one seems to have time for the old lady.

She explores the neatly lined jars on the kitchen counter, feeling them by her hands she reaches for the last candle she’s been saving for days. The little flame gives her the dull sight of her clean kitchen. She admires her day’s work and after getting into lounge she places the candle in the middle of the old coffee table. After seating herself comfortably on the couch she becomes more aware of the solitude and silence around her. The quietness about sends frequent chills in her spine.

She is lost in thoughts. This same place could stand out coz of the cheers and laughter of the little ones if you only go back in latest past. The thorny period of shadows made so easy with little feet around, bumping into her, screaming, and their glowing faces enough to light the surroundings. The beautiful memories put a slight smile on her face. But a loud racket brings her back to life. Her heart starts to pound rapidly. The age has slowed down her responses but she is fast enough to reach the door and double check the lock.

Her ears are on alert, anticipating the slightest sound anyone can make. It is late till she realizes her hands are shivering and few drops of perspiration have appeared on her forehead. She holds the doorknob tightly but feels it slip through her hands because of the sweat. There is the noise again, this time with a shrill cry of a miserable cat. It’s only a cat. She tries to comfort herself by hugging her weak existence and convinces herself she is not afraid of it. It was long ago when the cats and their cries made her terrified, but she is old now.

While the fight continues inside her, she finds herself almost talking out aloud. Her own voice sounds like a stranger’s and when she realizes she is alone, she reaches for the receiver of the phone. She’s started dialing her son’s number on the keypad. But what is she going to tell him? Not that its completely dark, and she is alone and scared. He’ll laugh if she tells him about the noise and the cat. She wants to tell him she misses him and wants him to come back. But she doesn’t want to put pressure on him, so its not a good idea. She will talk to her grand daughter, that will make her happy. The bell is going through. “Hello..”, she quickly speaks in the receiver only to hear his son’s voice directing: “Hello, you’ve reached the Ahmed’s, please leave your message after the beep and We’ll call you back. Thank you.”.

The small dark room, lit by one candle is her only companion for now. The flame of the candle synchronizes with the surroundings and has become dead still. The petrifying silence enters her soul and the emptiness around is winning over her. She’s become a part of the darkness and can no longer feel herself. She lingers on the couch while her life is played like a movie in front of her eyes.

Her parents leaving her behind in the house since she was a child. She complaining to her mother that she is scared of cats, and her mother telling her she is old now. Her husband leaving her for long hours alone and unable to fight for life when she needs him the most. She’s been brave for most of her life, she’s brought up her children alone. She’s fought for her rights and has given her children the best. She can see them happy and content in their lives now, and the best part of her life is her grand children. She is playing with them, feeding them, bathing them, and clothing them like she’s done with her children. But this time it is more satisfactory. She can feel their tiny hands on hers and their soft kisses on her cheeks. And she sees them running. They run so fast. She tries to reach them but they’ve disappeared. She has failed to catch them. She has failed to keep them. She calls out their names but only silences answer her.

The wax is melting fast; the silent flame of the only candle is low. She is old to be left alone, she has weakened to die. The flame of the candle is struggling to keep itself alight. The tears are flowing silently. The hot melted wax has gained the mass and the flame is twirling to live to the last of the thread. She sighs. The flame gives up, spreading the darkness in an already darkened life. Silence prevails.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You’ve one new messages”.

“Beeep.”

“ ** Silence ** ”.

Fee Amanillah