Bittersweet

You get good grades, you get in a good college. You achieve one thing after the other. You step over milestones. You get married. Big moments are taking place in your life and you're happy. But, there's a thought constantly nagging you at the back of your head. A thought that's slowly eating away your happiness. The thought that your father isn't here. He possible can't be. He can only watch from above.

For me, getting married was probably the most happening thing that could ever have happened. A nerd, I was always expected to get good results, so that was never as huge a thing as getting married, spending the rest of my life with someone else. I think most of the girls here would agree with me. Getting committed for life is a huge deal. 

Throughout the period before my wedding, I kept telling myself that I have to be strong, I have to be tough and handle it like I've handled 9 years of my life. And maybe all the days up to my wedding, I did. But it's the worst possible feeling, a mix between a sinking heart and a broken one to get married without one of your parents. It's a feeling I would never ever wish on anyone.

I used to go to his grave, talk to him almost every day, tell him about the day, how I was, how everything was going on, how Hassan was. I felt he needed to hear it from me, even though my sensible side knew that he couldn't hear or see me. Maybe I talked to him to save my own sanity, I really don't know. Maybe I never will. But my heart was at peace, there was a tranquility in talking to him, to let it all out, albeit in sobs. 

It's so eerily quiet in graveyards, have you noticed? Or is it just me? Like the dead are holding on to every single word we say to them. But in that quiet, I have always found calmness. Even if I have gone home sobbing, I have still always found it the best place to be when you need to talk, to think, to clear your head.

The worst part was me going in yellow clothes, mehndi on my hands, ready for my wedding the next day, to visit my father in a graveyard. To pray for his soul but also to tell him that I loved him more than anyone else, and that the next time I'd be seeing him would be when I'm married. Being a girl and being very close to my father right from the start, it has been an emotional trauma that I've never gotten out of. 

But there were so many things left unsaid, things I couldn't say out loud, for fear of losing it right there, so I thought a couple of things needed to be said, just because. Abbu ji, I hope you can see this. 

Abbu ji, I miss you. Not that I have ever not missed you, but I miss you even more. It was such a bittersweet event, a happy occassion with you not there. Never had I thought I'd be getting married without you there. But ammi took your place, she acted both like a mother and a father so all the credit goes to her for being strong for both me and her. I visited you everyday, I hope you were happy about that, couldn't really go through a day without talking to you. I love you so much, even if some memories are fading away slowly, courtesy of this defected mind. The worst revenge my mind could ever take on me is clear memories of you from my head. And it has. I forget how you sound like, I forget your words, your laugh, the smell of your perfume. But one thing remains constant. That I will always, always love you.

If you're reading this, there's a surprise waiting for you by the end of this year, most likely. I hope you like it. You always told me to pursue whatever my heart told me to, and this time I am, secretly. I hope you like what I have in store for you.

I love you so much it hurts. I hope I'm able to make you proud one day. I hope one day people say that "Mutahir and Lubna's daughter" is an achiever. That is the day I will be content with the life I've lived. Till then, I hope you have faith in your daughter. 

I miss you so much it hurts. Know that.

Saniya.