Waiting to hear my Father's voice for 17 years!
Date: 28th May, 2022. SaturdayFather. A word enough to explain it’s importance in anyone’s life. A man who looks like other simple human beings but when it comes to protecting his family, the man, the simple man turns himself in an army. The tree of the family which ensures that each members must have the benefits and necessities of life. The one who always work day and night to bring happiness with him to his house. I had lost this option from my life. I had no way to have those blessings anymore. 17 years ago, on this very day, I buried my father with my own hands. From then, I lived everyday in search of that man but this is the rules of Almighty, once gone... can never be back again. Father, I still deny the fact that you are no more with us. I'm drowned, broken, lonely and sad without you.
Today is my father's death anniversary. Writing about my father will not bring him back to life. Neither I'm writing this to gain sympathy from any of you nor drawing money. I'm writing this to you because I'm feeling suffocated deep inside my soul. I need to speak but I cannot. I need to shout but feeling like someone is scratching my soul. I need to do it. My worth is nothing without my friends and I consider my friends as my family members. So speaking with you means sharing my feelings with you all. This may make me feel comfortable. Let me speak my beloved friends.
2005, the year which was a dark aged year for me. On this very day 28th May, I lost my father. From having a beautiful evening the previous day to suddenly losing the roof of my life, I had the worst day of my life. I lost my father, a smiling guy who just slept beside me and shared his warmth with me. My father always slept beside me holding my hand but I didn’t know that it was the last day of my life. I slept comfortably because I knew my father would not sleep untill I do.
I woke up suddenly when I felt someone was pushing me and screaming loudly. My eyes were sleepy but I could feel something bad happened. It happened actually. We lost him. My elder sister and I was standing there having no idea what was actually happening then. My mom was holding him when he was dying. My sister and I sat beside him and hold his hands. We rubbed his hands, feet and even I gave CPR. I had no idea about it and learnt it from text book. It didn’t work. We already knew that it was coming to an end. I put my ear on his chest. It was slowing down, the heartbeats were slowing down and suddenly, there was silence.
I looked at my mother and sister. They were still trying their best. I slowly uttered that he was no more. A moment of silence took place and I still felt that I am the sole listener of that sounds. Both mom and sister bursted into tears while I had no clue. I tried my best to cry but I felt like a huge stone was placed on my chest. I was unable and found myself numb. One of my uncle heard everything and rushed but it was late. He informed my relatives and cousins. I was still looking at him and trying to make myself believe that I had lost the supreme support of my life.
I wasn’t crying till then. My inabilities of crying is still justified by myself. Why I was unable? My mom grabbed me and was telling me that he was no more. Her words then helped me realize that it was over. I screamed top of my lungs. I shouted, screamed and cried. That mere child has lost his biggest friend, the best companion of his life. I was stubborn enough to accept the facts and denying that father had left me. It was around 1am. The next morning, we had too many people at our home. My schoolmates demanded early leave to be with me. School authority declared holiday after an hour. There were too many people consoling me and my family.
After completing last rituals, I carried him on my shoulders along with my cousins to his grave, put him down gently there and buried my father with my own hands. Yes, I did. This is the worst feelings of a son when he buries his parents with his own hands. It will never be forgotten.
My life changed after that day. I had to take care of my family. I was only 14 years old then and from the age of 17, I started earning to support my family which is still going on. I became a comedian, a joker for my family to ensure smiles on their faces. That's why I am so good at making people comfortable and easy with me and smile. That's how I am living now. In the end, I smile & let bygones be bygones.
Dear Allah, I'm nothing without you. You have helped me always and still holding my hands in this situation. I pray cordially, bending my head and kneeling before you, let my father rest in peace, take care of his soul. Have mercy on him. I am seeking forgiveness on behalf of him. He was a good man, a good husband and definitely a good father.
Abbu, I will see you on the other side of this world, in heaven. Please embrace me when I'm there and call me with name. I'm waiting for your voice for a long long time. I miss you, father.
I'm sad and upset dear friends. Hope you understand.
Picture of this article belong to me.
Thanks for being with me.
©Lucifer01
With this you show me the true love you have for your father. From heaven he must be happy that you are his son. God bless you