Here in the tiniest and coziest room of the house, my grandson Ariel lives. My daughter-in-law Julie designed this room with all her love and might. I still remember the day when she was making wind chimes for Ariel; the sunlight fell upon her only to reveal the compelling beauty, she was so invested in her work, she didn’t have the time to notice anything else. For some strange reasons I never complimented her of her beauty though. Currently I’m sitting in this room to have a look on Ariel. He seems invested in crafting something just like her mother. I think he got that calm and concentrate nature from his mother. But he got his eyes of my son, sparkling and big. That is how Ariel is the mixture of my son and daughter-in-law. Whenever I look at him I feel like I’m looking at them too.
I must not disturb Ariel. So, I decided to go downstairs. While I am walking through the hall towards the staircase, suddenly I’m nostalgic of the time when my husband bought the house. My husband was a quite calculative man, he saved penny by penny and finally secured this home after 4 years of our marriage. Each of the bricks of this house is the witness to our great memories together. At that time my son Luke was only two years old, chubby and lazy, and of course so cute that I could hardly resist touching his cheek. This house made him energetic though. He ran to and fro all over the place as it’s a specious one. I was always referred by Luke as a strict mother. It’s not that I set too many rules, maybe I’m not good in expressing myself. Luke always deciphered my expression differently, whenever I said “that’s enough for today Luke” he thought I was annoyed, but I was never too annoyed on him, I just didn’t smile much. I wish I were a bit more expressive of my love. I don’t know why today I am often thinking of those days.
As soon as I reach downstairs, I see Julie reading a book near the fireplace. Watching her reading makes me happy. Today she is bending her head in an unusual position, perhaps she is crying over a sad novel. For some reasons, she always gets unprepared in the midst of reading if she knows I’m watching her, maybe she cannot read my thinking too. Huh, I must work on my expressions. However, I decide not to make sounds and simply go to kitchen. Standing just beside the kitchen door, I’m having a long look at the kitchen setting. Today for some odd reasons I don’t feel like eating at all. Usually, I enjoy cooking as well as eating. This kitchen is the place I have spent most of my times in a day. But why does it feel like I don’t need foods anymore. “Funny!” I thought. Just then I heard the horn of Luke’s car. Oh I must tell him not to be noisy with the horn. May be he just wants us to know he is home. I rush towards the door to see Luke. He opens the door with his keys and yells “Julie! Julie!” I call him but strangely enough no sound comes from my mouth. I again try hard, yet not a single word appears. I agitate that I cannot call my son. Something is off! I suddenly notice that Luke is not actually seeing me. But Why?! Only my mind echoes- “Luke! Luke!”, not a word comes. “Call Ariel, Julie”, “Let’s go to mom”–says Luke. Julie, wiping her eyes, “let’s go darling, don’t forget lilies.” says Julie. Lily was always my favorite when it comes to flowers. Wait! What does he mean by “let’s go to mother”, “I am right here son, ain’t I?” Suddenly I start to feel dizzy and something struck my mind like the blow of a cyclone’s terrible heat-
I, Sofia Kanel, DIED, 5th of November, here in this house, in my bed room, my last hours have not been so comfortable as I was suffering with lung disease, but I was happy to be able to live with my family till the very end. So, it was my soul all along roaming around this house, no wonder why I don’t feel hungry anymore. But I still feel one thing, and that is LOVE; love for my family, this home and my past self. I feel kind of sleepy now, I should get back to sleeping….
In the memory of my Grandmother Shafiya Khatune, who passed away this November. The story and characters are fictional but one thing is similar- my grandma had immense love for her family too.….
Seedratul Muntaha
Contributor
