It was 2001 when my elder sister and I lived with my
Uncle in Lahore for so-called good education and my mother and two other
siblings lived back in the village; my birth place and my favorite, too. It was
one cruel decision though.
I’m going to share with you one memory out of many.
was one cold evening of year 2002 back when I was a school going girl. My
Uncle, my Aunt and my elder sister sat out in open air enjoying the evening tea
with some homemade snacks. I have always loved winter evenings. But that
evening was a sad one, not out of pain but memories. God has been quite
generous with me in terms of covering me with memories since my childhood. And there
I sat on the floor in my room weeping. I was not weeping because I had not got
many dresses, or toys, or money, or a star from my teacher or that I was not
sitting out and enjoying tea.
I was crying because I was missing my mother.
Now you would say, I could have called up my mother if
I missed her this much. Well, yes, I wanted to call her. But, I had no mobile
phone. We had one PTCL Phone there but we needed some kind of credit card for
making a call, a call that had to be heard in another city. And I did not have
that. We could make calls within the city only, through that PTCL Phone. Ain’t
that ridiculous? Of course, it was.
Only magic could work out then. And for me, praying
was magic. It still is.
I just uttered these words, “Ammi, call kar lain
please (Ammi, call me, please)” and there I heard my sister saying, “Fatimaaa,
come out. There is a call from home.”
I went running, talked to my mother and asked if she
heard me saying that I wanted her give me a call? She did not understand what I
said and started asking about my health. Such is my mother, simple and
innocent. Ah! We talked for 5 minutes and everything in the universe fell in
place and looked beautiful. I was back to my normal naughty nature.
I then took tea and snacks, and told my sister that
magic existed. It was real, at least for me.
Today, I can call her anytime. Today, I have a mobile
phone. She has one, too. But she doesn’t know how to make a call. My brother or
my sister helps her do this.
Since that time, magic works well for me. I like
trying magic once in a while. I weep, I pray and there I see my phone ringing.
Though for a moment, it brings me back the childhood that I love a lot.
One thing more, praying is magic but a mother is
even more than that.
Everyday is their day. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers.