Mother death: Life without mom

Things are remembered by man . Especially when you find things that are closely related to him, he always finds it moving in front of your eyes. Childhood friends, the games, the conditions and the weather at that time, the school talk, the slipping of the class and then beating it, sometimes a position in a class or a prize in a competition, they come home very late in the moment of success, play and lie that so-and-so was engaged in homework with a friend, and sometimes you run away from school. You never forget to go away, that we would hide our settlements in a bunch of cookers and then come and take out the buses from there and walk home as if coming straight home from school, etc.

This is the story of the time when we were very young, that is, when I would probably study in nursery class. Me, my younger brother and a sister younger than him. We must have had a difference of about one year each. May Our Mother, Allah, bless Paradise, with whom I still remember a few times of the moments I spent, was sick and often hospitalized (which I am saying in guesses, because according to as much as I can remember, I remember very few incidents in my mother's shadow, i.e. since I regained consciousness and situations.

We have spent very little time in the shadow of our mother.We used to stay away from mother for many days, because Abba Jan would go to work before dawn and then probably go to the hospital to meet my mother in the evening on his return from duty and then return home after Asha at night. I was far away from my mother, and it was difficult to meet my father. Many days would have been spent seeing Aba Jan in the light of the day. In those days electricity was not normal so we used to burn lanterns at night. In the yellow light of The Lantern of my dad , the yellow face of the blood still remembers , and in his eyes there is a helplessness for us and an unseen love , still when he remembers , he trembles and tears come out of his eyes .

Our care, according to my memory, was something strange. Sometimes a sketch of uncles comes to mind who sometimes appeared in the evening and then stayed with us all night long . Now it is not remembered whether they also cooked food etc . But our neighbors generally took great care of us and often cooked food (there was a divine aunt, May Allah please them, who loved them like their children. They had no children of their own, so they had a lot of affection for us. The washing of clothes etc. is remembered that on Sunday, papa would tie a sheet and enter the bathroom and start the washing machine and then pull out a large bucket and start the clothes. We often dropped some clothes to jump more while playing, for which there was also a rebuke that I was tired of breaking your clothes and throwing them into the soil again, etc.

I remember one day I took Him to the hospital. It was probably sunday. We were all happy. Not because they went to see the mother , but because there was a chance to go somewhere outside the house . The feeling was not there in us at that time. We were walking in our mother's ward in the hospital. Papa probably gave new shoes to him. We were making noise in the ward with the tick of new shoes which was probably going on unpleasant lying with other patients. Dr. Aysha, who used to treat my mother, passed by (and when we grew up, I found out that she was a great gynecologist). They looked at him and recognized him and sent him to his mother. Mother looked at him with a star, and ran his hand over our heads with a kindness lying down. We too had sensing tears floating in their eyes and for a moment even forgot our mischief. Then papa brought him out to the lawn and went back in himself and he forbade me to go in. So came our uncles, and we returned home with them.

Papa returned home late that night . As soon as I arrived, I loved it and took me in a taxi to our uncle's house. There were tears in their eyes, talking to uncle and aunty, but I said nothing . After a while they gave some money and said what should be done. We were surprised that when we usually asked for money, i used to get five or ten rupees, which was enough in those days and there was a lot to buy toffees and chocolates from the shop, but on that day they took out the money from their pockets with a handful and gave it to us which we were very surprised. I still have nothing to say. In fact our mother had become dear to Allah and Papa was taking her body to Lahore by a PIA flight to bury her in her native village . The next day one of our uncles, whose name is yonis (May Allah please them) took them from uncle's house to the city station. They had taken tickets to Khyber Mail. We left khyber mail that night and the next two days we reached our village. We met all the people but we could not meet our mother and finally we were exposed to the fact that we would never be able to see our mother again.

After the burial of our mother, we stayed in our village for many days. Sometimes with uncle, sometimes with aunt, sometimes with uncle, sometimes with grandmother. But no one seemed to accept it from the heart because whenever we went to somebody, their ways would change. However, many days passed like this . One day I found out that our mother was coming back. We were very happy . Father was taking with him to uncle's house from the house of Aunt ya. It was raining heavily on that day , and papa had my younger brother and younger sister on their shoulders on both sides and I was walking with their fingers held . A son of my uncle's was almost my peer and therefore, I was very happy because we were sportsmen and played well there .

When they reached there there was a lot of confusion and many relatives came together as if they were going to get married. When we arrived, it was very bad for people to see us in a strange way, so we also became strict and sour in our attitude. There was a commotion around midnight and there was a sudden commotion. We also ran in the direction of noise. Many women pulled him in and said, "You will be with you for the rest of your life, let me see. Then I found out that these were our new mothers.

Now it turns out that today our father has settled down with our new mother. We ended up in the wedding and soon we left for Lahore with our new mother. Khyber Mail was waiting for us and we happily walked towards our house. All the way we stared at our new mother and she also carried out the categories, according to our mischief. After a tiring journey, we reached our home. The people of our neighborhood were surprised and happy. All the people came , and it was in everyone's language that when we came , we had to offer our condolences and now we are happy that they have brought with them a hand on the heads of the children.