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Love or Not
The diary was placed on the clothes, many of them heritage, rarely worn but treasured by her mother.. she opened somewhere towards the last.
"Today I accepted finally that the relationship I dreamt was never to be. I finally let it go. It took five years of my life. But even then I could not accept that this was not to be. Till yesterday.
I woke up yesterday, midnight and finally started removing all trace of his from my life. With each step it broke my heart. I deleted Instagram presence of his on my page. I unfollowed and blocked him on all platforms. Deleted hisbphotograph. I had known this was the right thing to do but I could not for so long. I was leaving on scraps he threw towards me. Yesterday even when my heart was numb of all his games, I closed the door.
Today instead of the perennial state of wait, I felt awake. Heartbroken a little, but the heart was breaking for such a long time that it did not matter any more. What felt good was the relief of no more.
No more of being called fat or old , in the middle of a sentence, no more a need to diet to fit in. I finally knew that the reason life brought us together was an accident that for me was love and for him was... Possibly nothing but the pressure of a woman's love. A woman who assisted him, picked him up and argued with him to be better in his life and asked for nothing.
I only did not close the message and call. I know how much Tara loves getting his advise on her science projects. He had not given much but in this piece he had been good and kind, beyond kind.
I hope Tara finds a man or does not have her heart broken. She had seen much in her father. I hope Iram as her bro is able to fulfill his endless words of" I will come to visit you," that he gave me so often. "
So read her dairy. Her daughter turned the pages and read on. Her mother who had been the most acclaimed romantic novelist of her times, had never received love from a man. Even her father had been a manipulating person, after he left, her only other relationship was with a man she knew as Iram Bro. Bro as that was what Iram asked her to call him, saying uncle sounds old and wacky.
She always believed her mother's obsession with work and her passion for writing did not allow that relationship much time . Eventually they went other way but with sweetness. She never spoke a mean word but smiled and said at his reference .. "Oh yes Iram would say this. " She , Tara, her only daughter had even contacted Iram in France . He had come and met her with a big smile and spoken of her life's decisions. She should have guessed as before leaving he had stopped and asked , "How is ..mother ? " Then laughed and said , "Don't tell her I asked.. she would feel the need to contact and worry about me. I am a selfish person ..haha."
Tara had paid no attention. She had shared something with her mother. What she did not remember. She knew mother had smiled and laughed and said ," Honestly such a nice gesture. Good of you to contact Tara ."
She never knew, her mother suffered a heartbreak and Iram knew of it..possibly.
Slowly she closed the book and put down her pen. She had been wanting to write her mother's autobiography, may be as a reaction to her sudden death. But she had to stop and ponder. May be not. May be never. Slowly she put the dairy back in the closet with her precious jewellery and clothes.
She glanced at the message. One was from Iram. He had demanded to know if she had joked when she had said mother was no more. He had been travelling and the news did not flash that she was dead.
She wanted to delete it. But she knew she had to respond. So she slowly wrote the message. She had not informed anyone prior to today that mother was no more.
Even before that her phone rang. It got cut off and her mother's phone rang. Iram's name flashed. Before she could pick up, her mother's voice mail picked up.
"Thank you for calling. I am not keeping well and in a retreat. If I come back , you will get a call back. If not please accept my love and wishes. Stay blessed."
Tara started crying. This was so much her mother. She kept different voice messages for everyone who had her number. For her it always was.. Tara I love you. Call me on... And then possibly the number of the nursing home.
Somewhere in far away Scandinavian countries , Tara could hear Iram howl. She wished she could tell her mother , " Ma you were loved. May be not in the way we understand.. but you were loved. "
@Meanderingsoul
© All Rights Reserved
"Today I accepted finally that the relationship I dreamt was never to be. I finally let it go. It took five years of my life. But even then I could not accept that this was not to be. Till yesterday.
I woke up yesterday, midnight and finally started removing all trace of his from my life. With each step it broke my heart. I deleted Instagram presence of his on my page. I unfollowed and blocked him on all platforms. Deleted hisbphotograph. I had known this was the right thing to do but I could not for so long. I was leaving on scraps he threw towards me. Yesterday even when my heart was numb of all his games, I closed the door.
Today instead of the perennial state of wait, I felt awake. Heartbroken a little, but the heart was breaking for such a long time that it did not matter any more. What felt good was the relief of no more.
No more of being called fat or old , in the middle of a sentence, no more a need to diet to fit in. I finally knew that the reason life brought us together was an accident that for me was love and for him was... Possibly nothing but the pressure of a woman's love. A woman who assisted him, picked him up and argued with him to be better in his life and asked for nothing.
I only did not close the message and call. I know how much Tara loves getting his advise on her science projects. He had not given much but in this piece he had been good and kind, beyond kind.
I hope Tara finds a man or does not have her heart broken. She had seen much in her father. I hope Iram as her bro is able to fulfill his endless words of" I will come to visit you," that he gave me so often. "
So read her dairy. Her daughter turned the pages and read on. Her mother who had been the most acclaimed romantic novelist of her times, had never received love from a man. Even her father had been a manipulating person, after he left, her only other relationship was with a man she knew as Iram Bro. Bro as that was what Iram asked her to call him, saying uncle sounds old and wacky.
She always believed her mother's obsession with work and her passion for writing did not allow that relationship much time . Eventually they went other way but with sweetness. She never spoke a mean word but smiled and said at his reference .. "Oh yes Iram would say this. " She , Tara, her only daughter had even contacted Iram in France . He had come and met her with a big smile and spoken of her life's decisions. She should have guessed as before leaving he had stopped and asked , "How is ..mother ? " Then laughed and said , "Don't tell her I asked.. she would feel the need to contact and worry about me. I am a selfish person ..haha."
Tara had paid no attention. She had shared something with her mother. What she did not remember. She knew mother had smiled and laughed and said ," Honestly such a nice gesture. Good of you to contact Tara ."
She never knew, her mother suffered a heartbreak and Iram knew of it..possibly.
Slowly she closed the book and put down her pen. She had been wanting to write her mother's autobiography, may be as a reaction to her sudden death. But she had to stop and ponder. May be not. May be never. Slowly she put the dairy back in the closet with her precious jewellery and clothes.
She glanced at the message. One was from Iram. He had demanded to know if she had joked when she had said mother was no more. He had been travelling and the news did not flash that she was dead.
She wanted to delete it. But she knew she had to respond. So she slowly wrote the message. She had not informed anyone prior to today that mother was no more.
Even before that her phone rang. It got cut off and her mother's phone rang. Iram's name flashed. Before she could pick up, her mother's voice mail picked up.
"Thank you for calling. I am not keeping well and in a retreat. If I come back , you will get a call back. If not please accept my love and wishes. Stay blessed."
Tara started crying. This was so much her mother. She kept different voice messages for everyone who had her number. For her it always was.. Tara I love you. Call me on... And then possibly the number of the nursing home.
Somewhere in far away Scandinavian countries , Tara could hear Iram howl. She wished she could tell her mother , " Ma you were loved. May be not in the way we understand.. but you were loved. "
@Meanderingsoul
© All Rights Reserved
