And I realize, life isn’t where it meant to be.
There are slight frustrations, sighs and grudges, hours of day dreaming.
It is difficult to deal with a coronised planet, and agonizing bulletins over the loss of life, at the snap of a finger!
My granny prophesied doomsday, while I was a child, just to keep my religious profile in check. And yes, I was afraid of doomsday. She would pantomime, "one morning an ear-drum tearing screech will blow, and that would be a doomsday. Ears will bleed, and the righteous of man, will be unharmed".
Hearing the loss of life, every morning not my ears, but heart bleeds. I don't mourn the lives, maybe I am not good at that. Or I lack that gene of mourning because of past traumas or so.
How much a human heart can take, and still act normal?
I find this difficult to deal with! Very difficult.
With so many human expectations, I fail to stand at the line where I am expected to.
There are lethargic moments in the mornings where I don't want to give my family their breakfast.
I just don't want to boil the eggs, despite their hard necessity of protein for post corona convalescence.
I just want to lay back and scroll my phone empty. I stay put my kids away, making sure that they are enjoying or laughing on their own. Then this gives me a stab of superficiality. I wring off that feeling immediately, because I want someone to give me a cup of tea, to ease my anxious nerves and frightened neurons.
Even in these agonizing days, I dream of travelling to expansive Hagia Sophia or touching the scholastic walls of Oxford.
Trust me, these mind-travels are relieving as a soothing balm over an throbbing migraine.
These days my brains are at alert, the moment there comes news of the loss of life, it starts accounting, documenting and then splitting the information of death into different categories.
Was she aged?
Did he have medical severity?
Was she ignorant?
Oh! he might've been late!
Thereby calculating the degree of safety where my family lies.
Initially, I got fits of fright when my kids coughed or showed an allergy to pollens and cats. Now there's no measure.
lots of starters and desserts are now my object of mistrust. I keep my kids nagging over devouring bowls of jelly custards.
I suspect the Dastarkhan, which until now was the way of showing my love to my fasting family.
While breaking the fasts, I pray to Allah to give all those oils, sugar-rich Dastarkhaan to have nourishing effects despite their genetic makeup, not to.
Like hungry caterpillar emptiness within, eats my energy. Having wiped off with no sense of contribution to society, I crave for doing something. While the stories of contribution on social handles, I try my best. And that effort only exhausted me further.
Otherwise too, A good deed done only in favor of human instigation is less gratifying.
But I am finding my ways to be a good human, wife, mother, and other extended relations.
And the more I try, the more I realize!
Life isn't this where I wanted to be!
Nonetheless in this feeling, I am not alone, but entire human race, and so pray to Allah. .
