Salam!
Two days to go...
I love you my 4k readers.
Sometimes you guys are the only reason why i wish to wake up.
Sometimes you are so tired of everything around you. You just want an escape...ESCAPE. I wish one day i become my Father's pride and my Mother's proud. I wish one day. InSha'Allah one day.
• RIYA •
I stood at the door, my heart swelling up in happiness. Baba is coming home.
Zain was the one to pick him up from airport. Even tho I besought him to take me too but he didn't for uncle said that it wasn't safe for me.
But today I was so happy that all the restrictions didn't matter anymore. My father was coming and that was all that I could think of.
"You look really happy. Don't you?" Uncle who was reading newspaper, said.
"I am." I sighed and walked to the two bamboo chairs and sat on the one opposite to him.
"You love your father so much?"
I nodded. "After my mother, he is all I have."
"And we? Aren't we your family."
"Of course, you guys are!"
Uncle always tried his best to act nonchalant with me. But for me it was hard. I couldn't just intermingle with these people. I craved love and very less people was carrying it in their hearts here. Sometimes the aloofness would suffocate me.
Uncle couldn't understand that between him and us stood walls - a gap of twenty one years which couldn't be filled by the mere talk of a few days.
This family didn't accept my mother. How will they accept me?
There would have been a time. Somewhat twenty two years ago when my father would have brought my mother from airport, just like this. The metal gates would have been opened, my mother's eyes would have been sparkling with love and joy when she would have stepped on the ground of this mansion for the first time.
She would have been excited to meet her husband's family. But then again, what happened. Was her naiveness reciprocated? No. Instead her dreams were shattered that she had weaved ever so gently. She was called names, just because she belonged to a different ethnicity.
I imagined all the scenarios that might have occurred. It constricted my heart as I imagined my mother's painful expression and teary eyes.
She must have cried. No?
As the metals gates were opened, once again, I stood up from my seat, dusting my dress and Zain drove in uncle's car. My face brightened up as my father stepped down and flashed his beautiful smile at me.
To the world he might be aging, but to me he was that young handsome man who my mother fell in love with, who I called my hero.
He opened his arms and I walked into them, embracing him. His familiar scent wafted through as I placed my head on his shoulder and at that point i realised that how much I had missed him.
It was true I was nothing without his support.
***
