Can you hear me?

18 05 2011

Maryam lay quietly for a bit. Yes, it hurt all over, but Ilhaam was still sleeping and Zaakir had to get ready for school. Sleepy cereal time every morning, a little pocket of time when hope still skimmed the edges of her day, a few moment of peace before reality hit.

A prayer preceeding the getting out of bed.

A prayer everyday.

Maybe today, maybe today, maybe today…

But it hadn’t happened yet. That elusive something or someone that would shatter these walls and bring light and life and comfort and happy-happy. Not yet. So Maryam knew she would keep looking out the window, at the shadow of moods passing over Yusufs’ face. Hoping for a phonecall, a letter…something else from somewhere else would make it better.

I’m broken. Broken to bits. Crushed to smithereens. I can’t put the pieces back.

Zaakir said “Mummy why do you kiss us so much?” his head popping out from under the jersey “because I love you baby”. “Does daddy love you mummy? Daddy doesn’t kiss you…”

Straighten his bag. Push his hair out of his face. Don’t answer him.

“Guess what? I put a caramel custard for you in your lunch box”

Smile, dammit, smile.




One response

22 05 2011

It is so sad 😦

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