Green chair

Abbu Abbu Abbu….Salam

Today I finally mourned.

The entire plane ride I was dry eyed with just a discomfort in my chest. The entire drive to the apartment I was silent with that discomfort growing – yet no tears. The lump in my throat had become a balloon that was slowly increasing but it was just in the chest and throat.

Last two weeks, I had thought that either I was really patient – patting myself on the back. Or I was heartless – as some people in my life have said due to my lack of displayed emotions or that Allah really did listen to my duas and gave me a strong heart where my parents are concerned.

Then Mustafa opened the door to the apartment and I walked in. The first thing I saw was the green chair. That balloon hit a nerve but I kept walking in to greet Ammi. My eyes laid on her and the balloon popped. I rushed back and clung to your chair as if it was you. As if that was your body – as if it was your final resting place. As if that was the grave that carried your blessed self. And the dam just broke.

Weeks of release and the real grief that everyone else here had been experiencing rushed out. I thought I would pass out. Abbu believe me when I say this but I am quite sure I have – never – ever – sobbed like this and for this long in my life. But your aura is such that even Sara came to hug me and console me. You left but made sure you patched what was broken. Such is the love that only you could incite.

Ammi – yes I know you are wondering about her first and foremost – is what you would expect. You didn’t want to leave her because you knew. She is a mess. She cries every few minutes and goes and sits on your green chair. That chair is powerful Abbu. It is really the only piece of furniture that is painful. I sat in the room and watched it – sat in it as if on your lap – cried and rocked myself to a fit again – touched all your books and read all the titles – just to absorb the variety of all the topics that were inside you.

You will be happy to know your last book was edited on the long flight here. Its done and ready to be sent for publishing. InshAllah. Kamran sent me one of the stanza’s of Mirza Ghalibs that he apparently had enjoyed with you on the poetry exchanges: (he said to share it with Ammi and she translated it for me)

“That which was from the thought of one individual – Where is the gracefulness of thought now?” – Mirza Ghalib

Sara is wearing your clothes Abbu, looking quite beautiful. Fatma is busy with the kids yet constantly talking about you. Your friends are still visiting as they did last night as well. Ammi wants to leave this apartment – there’s too much of you here and won’t let her rest. She finally gets to move again, her favorite pass-time!

And I want to know how I can live every day without you. I just can’t believe I am walking on the earth that carries you under the soil of my feet. I feel disrespectful. I faced my fear. I finally grieved. But I just can’t look at that green chair.

Jan 2020 – July 7th 2021 this chair was Abbu’s bed, study, life until he went to the hospital. Due to his compromised lungs he slept here, wrote his books here, socialized here.