Tuesday, April 12, 2016

The Ugly Flu


There, she was lying.

Beautiful as she’s always been. Ney! Even more.
Her long silky hair was dangling as a willow tree touching both sides of the casket. Smiling she was like a happy bride. In her smile I read a message of peace as if she wanted to tell me that heaven is a welcoming house.
She was happy. I was not!

I was looking at her peaceful face sadly knowing that my life is no longer life. Her death vanished away all the colours from existence. Her death only left the shades of some pleasant memories. Now everything is dark.

In her last days, cancer was eating her up. She didn’t want me to know!
She made everyone swear not to say a word to me about her breast cancer. “She is doing very well in her exams so don’t tell her. This would affect her studies,” she often told them.
I had a feeling that everyone was hiding something from me. They knew about her. They knew she was saying goodbye. She was enjoying the sunny days for the last time in her life. They knew. I did NOT!

“It’s just flu, sweety,” she told me every time she glanced skeptical questions hovering in my eyes. “It’ll vanish in days.”

It did vanish but it took her away. Cancer, that ugly and deceptive flu, took my mother away.
“Why?” I sobbed over her silent body. “Why didn’t you tell me, mama. I could’ve been nicer to you. I could’ve worshiped you, my goddess; kissed your soft hands for hours and hours.”
That moment, I thought of many things I could have done before her disappearance; many things I wouldn’t be able to do anymore.

“You can pray for her now to make her grave a pleasant place,” said that religious man in her funeral, “She needs your prayers.”


I had no choice but to believe him not because of his pious appearance but because I wanted to do something for my mother to atone for my mistakes. “It’s not really goodbye,” he asserted me. “One day you will both meet in heaven where you will have an immortal life to live, and then you'll be able to do all the things you could’ve done, son.”