Friday, 14 March 2014

A Legacy of Memories

Tonight, I need this night all to myself. Just my memories and me; the happy ones, the sad ones, the good ones, the bad ones.

I need tonight to commemorate a lifetime of feelings; to remember a childhood, long-forgotten; to cherish a legacy of memories.

I also need tonight to reminisce of a life well-remembered.
Well-lived? Maybe. What do I know. Well-loved? Definitely.
The life of a mother, a grandmother, an old lady.

Memories of a warm, cozy lap; of aged hands feeding my hungry mouth. Memories of the pungent smell of mosquito repellent; of summer nights in Karachi. Memories of sleeping in the 'Sehen', the whirr of the ceiling fan, the hardness of the 'takht' - memories of being comfortable without air conditioning and soft beds.

Memories of stories heard in the dark; of songs and lullabies, too - memories, memories, too numerous to recount.

Sad memories, too, of hands incapable of feeding; of legs, incapable of walking; of eyes, so watchful and so sad, of words - incapable of coherence.

Memories, also, of a phone call from far away - and another memory: the thought of no more memories. The saddest memory, of the realization that there will be no more.

Tonight, I needed to be on my own - with my beautiful Daadi, the lady with the beautiful voice. Tonight was for her and for me; for pretending that she is still alive and well, still singing, still loving me.