So many times in life, we go through situations that are largely beyond our control. You think you will get a grip over things, but they fail miserably, don’t they?
At times, you may just sit back and contemplate if your life will ever get back on track again, and you think it won’t because you’ve reached a point of no return, but then God sends in his angel who scoops you up and shines bright in the dead of the night.
It doesn’t really takes a genius to know that the angel I am talking about is Mom. There is so much power in these three letters. Sometimes, just knowing that your mom has got your back is enough to give you the strength to bear the most testing of times.
I have had an easy life most of the time, but we all wear masks, don’t we? The happy people mask their sadness beneath, the contented ones may mask their jealousy and you never know what story someone has lived unless they show you their scars.
I have had my share of scars too. It was too complicated to explain and I thought that the pain of the process is going to shred me into pieces, a little more every day until nothing shall remain.
***
They say, when you love someone, it is like cocaine. It gives you a high and you are euphoric and ecstatic and wild, but it is addicting. You don’t realize how deadly love can be, especially if the plugs are plugged one day.
You feel the world has crashed and the whiplash of the mighty tsunami waves drown you, except you don’t die.. You suffocate, you asphyxiate and you still live a death every moment.
I wasn’t myself and every moment felt like a nightmare. I was surrounded by so many memories that it felt eerie to know that the memories are not going to be real. It wasn’t a breakup. It was a loss- the kind of loss where you end up questioning life and what it means!
I had lost my best friend and sometimes your best friend could be even more crucial than the love of your life.
The fact that my best friend had committed suicide was even more unnerving because it shook my very existence. Didn’t it infer that I never mattered enough; that maybe, I had failed as a friend; that maybe, I was responsible somewhere!
There were so many questions eating me up because I loved her, loved her the way you love your friend with whom you’ve spent such a large part of your life.
We were the kind of mates who could converse even without a word spoken! How then did I fail to see the storm that she was fighting inside!
It was all so surreal and everyone knew that while one of us was gone, she had left a live bomb inside me. I was like an explosion waiting to happen.
No, I won’t commit suicide and I was tired of people asking me if I was okay! How could I be okay if my best friend just decided one fine day to leave this world all alone?
How could I be okay when every pair of eyes looked at me like I was the next suicide case they were waiting to discuss.
I was tired of people asking me if I was okay when they knew I shall perhaps never be!
Terribly tired owing to long insomniac nights, as I headed to my bed 9 days after her death, I found someone sitting on my bed. I didn’t need lights to know who the person was. Her silhouette was enough.
Mom. I said.
She just nodded and asked me to come near.
My mom was one person who could always see through me. There was a part of me that didn’t understand why she was not comforting me for so long.
Seeing her in my room with eyes that showed love rather than pity, I knew she was giving me the time I needed.
“I won’t ask if you are okay because I know you’re not. However, I also know that you’re not going to do the same mistake as Zikka did.”
Zikka! I have been unable to tell her name out loud. This was a nickname mom gave us and we always used to call each other Zikka.
I had no patience anymore and all the hurt and fear broke down as I bared my heart and spoke about the pain of this loss.
I told her I was tired of seeing people with questioning eyes. I told her I didn’t know why Zikka didn’t trust me before she did something so huge.
My mom simply hugged me and said,
“Someone up there writes our story long before we know what a story means. Of course, we can paint our own stars but sometimes in life, we make wrong decisions and sometimes you end up losing someone you can’t contemplate living without. You will always feel that you can’t bear this loss, but you do. Only love replaces love.
You lost your best friend but think of Zikka’s mom. She lost the child she had nurtured in her womb. Nobody should ever take their life because while they go, they leave a lot of live dynamites who end up dying every day. Your job, dear is to be the daughter Zikka’s mom no longer has. Don’t take the blame upon you. The world works in mysterious ways and your Zikka is forever going to be in your heart and love they say is very powerful. You’re very strong. I know you’ll do it because Zikka wouldn’t want it any other way. Do it for her. Be the daughter to two moms.”
It might not be a lot to you but for me those were the exact words I wanted to hear. The pain in my chest was less. Obviously, it didn’t go away entirely.
At that instant, I knew my mother will always be the expert who could excavate me from the darkest of times. I didn’t even need a counselor. I miss Zikka, I miss her a lot but I know that from up above the sky, she is smiling upon me and wishing she was a little stronger too.
I hope I could have helped Zikka but maybe, some things happen because God has something in mind. Like mom says, life is beautiful; if you make it so.
Yes mom, life is beautiful.
I got the right lesson out of it as today I work as a grief counselor.
Often I dream of Zikka and she just says, “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Love you Zikka.”
Expert mom once said, “People don’t die, just their bodies do.”
She is an expert, isn’t she?
I am what I am because of you.
Every mom deserves love, appreciation and a hug. Go give her one, now!
This post is a part of My First Expert Story, hosted by Godrej Rich Creme Hair Colour, an expert in hair colouring At IndiBlogger
All images have been linked to source.
A Shade Of Pen 