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Sunday, 10 May 2015

Happy Mother's Day



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. 

It 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. 





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