The Child Within

When I can’t think I go outside. I sit in some secluded spot, isolated from the world by bushes and grass, waist high. I close my eyes and inhale. I smell the fresh scent of nature, I smell the sun-kissed grass, I sense that perhaps it is time for the morning tea back home. I smile when I think of this. Perhaps they are thinking of me too. Perhaps they miss me. Perhaps I miss them too, though I don’t like to admit it that often, but no man is an island.

I sit on the dewy grass and look around. I breathe. I feel. I think.

Sometimes, I do this, sit somewhere and not take anything from the world, nor add anything to it. Just observe from a distance. And then the world begins to unravel, I see small ants make their way around me, I see ladybugs fly from leaf to leaf, I see wasps hum in the gentle summer breeze. Then, things seem simpler. Certain problems are solved, certain inner conflicts resolved. I can breathe easy again, and despite everything, I smile.

I came to Murree a few years ago looking for something. Somehow I never left. I like the peace and calm of the mountains, the noisy, crowded bazaars, the wildly twisting roads wound around the mountain top, the greenery all around.

But what I love most about Murree is its beauty when night falls. The sun sets, sinking into a valley. The sky has a rosy glow. And if you look out of the porch, across the valley, at the mountain facing you, you can see people switching on lights in their houses as it gets darker. The best part comes when the entire area is so dark you can no longer distinguish between the mountains and the sky. It is all a black canvas. And on the mountain facing you, you see lights, twinkling in the haze; it looks like a bejeweled black satin cloth.

My pocket vibrates, I retrieve my phone; it’s my roommate.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Ali where are you?”
“I’m in the forest, why are you asking?”
“There’s someone here to meet you, I think you should hurry up.”
“Who is it? And why is it urgent?”
The other side was silent.
“Hamza? Hamza? You still there? Hello”
Pause.
“Ali, I just think it’s best if you hurry home.”

After that he ends the call. I certainly didn’t expect any of this, who could it be? I think for a while, but when I come up with no answers I decide to back to the cottage and see who it is for myself. I get up and begin the twenty minute trek back to my friend’s guest house where I had been staying all this while. Hamza and I went way back. We met in a shop where he worked and I shopped frequently. I had known him for nine years and in all this time we had grown almost inseparable. We were like brothers.

As I walk up to the house I see that all the porch lights are switched on and there are two people standing on the porch. I immediately recognize Hamza. He gestures for me to hurry up. I increase my speed to almost a run but screech to a halt the moment I see who is accompanying Hamza.

“What are you doing here?” My tone is harsh, I do nothing to hide the anger if feel at this person’s unexpected visit.
“Ali, calm down and listen to me for…”

I cut her off, “Listen to you? All the talking is done Aleeha. We have nothing left to say to each other.”

She is still as calm as always, “Ali, listen. I know you’re angry, but this is not about me or you. This is about our mother.”

Something in me becomes more alert. There’s a sense of foreboding that overcomes me. The way Aleeha said that………it just didn’t sound like the prelude to the best of news. Urgent, I ask her what the matter is. Her answer leaves me shattered.

I stay up the entire night packing my bags. Hamza lends his suitcases and Aleeha spends the night watching repeat telecasts on a cooking channel. None of us sleep. Aleeha and I leave at seven in the morning, we catch the bus to the Islamabad airport and from there we leave for Lahore. What is unnerving me is that Aleeha knows me so well that she had already bought my ticket. She knew I would come along. She knew I would return.

We travel the eighty kilometer distance from the airport to our house in a hired cab. We travel in silence. All the way from Murree to Lahore, it has been that way.

I do not know what to think. I do not know what to say. I do not know what to do. Being back should have felt natural. Like when you are going through old sheets of music, you come across a song that you had once known by heart but had not thought of for a long time. As you go through the notes you remember that even now after so much time you would still be able to play it effortlessly.

The house is empty, and cold. The curtains are drawn over the windows, giving it an even gloomier appearance. I walk through the familiar corridors that lead to my mother’s room. As I crack open that door I hear a frail voice call out, “Kaun hai? Who is it?”

Something in my heart drops, I would know that voice anywhere—it is my mother. But what alarms me is the tone, it’s so frail it scares me. In a heartbeat I wonder, how much time do I have left?

I walk up to the bed softly, her eyes are closed and her white wispy hair is surrounding her thin heavily lined face. I bend over her and lightly brush my fingers across her cheek. Her eyes flutter open and they light up.

“A-Ali? Puttar, tou agaya? Son, you came?” The astonishment, happiness and love in her eyes is all it takes to make me break down. I sob uncontrollably as I kiss the forehead of my mother whom I hadn’t seen for such a long time. She sobs with me. But the difference is her tears are happy-she just got her son back. My tears are sad—I’m not sure for how long I have my mother back.

My sister watches the scene from the doorway—stoic as ever. She leaves after a while. Meanwhile I tell my mother of my work in Murree. I show her a few of the landscapes I made there. Though she doesn’t say much I know she is proud of the creativity she passed on to me.

“Let her rest.”
I turn around to see Shoaib, standing in the doorway, his expression full of disdain.
“I just got here.”
“So?”
“Let me be with her.”
“If you’re so eager to be with her what were you doing in Murree all this time? Huh? Why didn’t you come back before? What are you doing here now? When time is running out?”
“Ami asked for me, she asked Aleeha to go and get me. She wants me to be with her. Why do you have a problem with that?”
“Why do I have a problem? I have a problem because you left when we needed you. You just got up and left. It’s been Aleeha and I who have been working our butt off trying to manage the expenses and still look after ami, while you were frolicking and holidaying in Murree.”
“You know I needed that break after what happened. You know I didn’t know about ami’s sickness. You know that.”
At this he began walking towards me his finger pointing at me accusingly, “Don’t you dare,” he growled, “Don’t you dare feign ignorance of ami’s disease. And don’t you dare act like you were the only one who went through that……that incident. It left us all scarred. But we stayed. We stayed right where we were needed.”
I open my mouth to reply, but Aleeha comes in and stops me. She says it’s time for ami’s rest and that we sholid take our bickering outside where we won’t disturb her.

Once outside she tells us that lunch is ready and we should probably cease-fire till after the meal. When I enter the dining room Shoaib grabs his plate, loads it with food and leaves. Aleeha sighs and sits down across from me and starts eating. We dine in silence. When we are done I ask her what has been bothering me all along.

“Hali?” I use the nickname I had for her.
“Hmmm? What?”
“How long?”
“How long before what?”
“How long before…………” I couldn’t say the words out loud. But she understood my expression immediately.
“One week.”
That leaves me stunned.

I leave the dining room and go to ami's room where she is napping. I quietly drag a chair near the window closer to her bed. And I watch her sleep. Snd I think.

I don't know for how many hours I satyed there, watching her and just thinking. But what jolted me out of my reverie was Hali coming in and asking me to come for dinner. Once again Shoaib has decided to ditch us and mope in his room. Once again Hali and I sit in silence.

I just can’t talk to Hali because whenever I look at her I am reminded of what happened. What caused me to leave for Murree. Before I have time to think more about the incident, my phone rings. It’s Hamza, asking if I’ve arrived safely. I tell him everything is fine and that I’ll probably return in two weeks. At this Aleeha looks up her eyes boring into mine. I hold her gaze challenging her quietly to try and make me stay. The phone call ends quickly but the gaze holds, seemingly forever. Until she sighs and closes her eyes.
“What?”I ask, irritated. She’s acting like I’m a spoiled child.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. You tell me.”
“Ali, look. I know he meant a lot to you, and I’ve already apologized. I didn’t let it happen on purpose. You left once. Please don’t leave again. I know you needed that break but now we need you. We really do.”
“I will leave after mom……………well you know. I can’t bear to be here anymore.”
“All four of us went through something horrible, especially mom. But you can only shirk your responsibilities for so long.”
“My responsibilities? You and Shoaib aren’t any of my concern. I’m independent, and maybe you should be too. I’m free to do whatever I want. You are no one to stop me.”
“Ali you’re confusing financial dependence with emotional dependence. You’re needed here. We lost Naveed, we are losing mum. Each other is all we have left. You couldn’t bear losing Naveed. I can’t bear seeing my family fall apart.”
“What about Shoaib? Huh? See this from his point of view, I’m not welcome here.”
“He is just bitter because he feels as if you abandoned him. He is your younger brother Ali, he loves you and you love him. He’ll come around. Deep inside you know he wants you to be here.”
“I didn’t abandon him! I didn’t abandon anybody! Naveed was the only one who ever needed me. Without him here I’m not needed!” I raised my voice. I didn’t understand. Shoaib and I were never very close. Why would he think that I had abandoned him?