thursday
11th june 2020
12:36 am

it has been three years since i've felt my baba's embrace. three years since i've seen his smile first-hand, three years since the melody of his laughter has rung in my ears.

the last time i saw him was the september of 2017, when he hugged me with tears in his eyes at the airport terminal. he beckoned me and my family forward and waved his hand at us. but all the way to when i boarded the airplane, the image of his shining eyes hovered somewhere around before me. i ate some of the pasta my mum had cooked for the flight and started a movie on my phone as the plane took off, but the only memories my subconscious could recognize were those i had made with my baba.

i remember once i had been sleeping late into the afternoon, courtesy of staying up until after fajr, and he had given me a light scolding for doing so. i knew he wanted my best, as he probably feared i would ruin my health if i stayed up at ungodly hours, but the harsh words had broken me down. i flipped the pages of my qur'an as my tears dripped on to them, and my baba happened to walk by my room at that moment. he kissed my forehead and apologized for his scoldings, and hugged me so tightly to himself, that i put my arms around him. i was scared of letting go. as was he.

i savoured every moment i spent in his presence-taking in his laughter, his dad jokes, his quirky habits. i did not know when i would see him again, and neither did he. such was life-unpredictable and harsh.

my baba worked overseas in KSA. i had moved to pakistan in the summer of 2014 because of reasons that were too much of a hassle to ignore any longer. every year, when my academic school year would end, he'd send us tickets and we'd fly to KSA to see him, and get away from the stifling air of lahore. that was the time of the year i looked forward to the most, and anticipated the most. i couldn't wait to return to my birth place, and relinquish in the illusion that my life was going back to being perfect.

it has been three years since i've felt my baba's embrace. these three years have been long and hard, and only got harder when the virus broke out and all communications and transportations were shut down. any chances of him making it to pakistan had been obliviated.

we talked on skype. i'd ask him about his day, what he ate, what he cooked, what he did. i'd ask about the news, and we discussed the rising number of corona cases and then stressed over why people were not social-distancing. then i'd tell him about my day, what new recipe i decided to try out, how it actually turned out, anything to keep the horrid thoughts at bay.

but one day, he said something that completely broke me. it shattered my hopes, it crushed my dreams, it brought tears to my eyes. i wish he'd never said, never even thought of that, but the possibility was too hard to ignore.

he said, 'i may never able to see you again.'

note: my father is completely okay alhamdulillah, this was written in covid times so i'm way more emotional than i usually am xD