“No , don’t run, else you’ll fall. Abbu won’t pick you up
again, come here and wear your shoes.”
My eyes would then be half – cupped by her tiny, little
hands with a hope to wrongly guess the innocent sleight of hand. Soon, when her
desperation would turn out to be true, her bubbly laughter would bring life to
the dead street – “Ammi, it’s me, Sarah, I fooled you again!”
Like a silver streak on a deep blue sky, her presence would
make our days livelier and cheerful. That day, she moaned, not to go again, to
a place we called school and she felt trapped.
“Ammi, we’ll play
together but I don’t want to go to school today.” – her brook of innocence
pulled out the laughter from me.
“Sarah jaan, we’ll play once you’re back, I promise.” Watching her go with a burden on her back, I
decided to take her out to a new play house, built in our neighborhood.
But the fate knew not how terribly it would change our
lives. It seemed too selfish to take her away from a place she belonged, from all
her heart. That day, the shower spilled not from the skies but from the eyes of
the child-bearers.
“Ayesha, your Sarah is in trouble. Begum, save your son!” –
the neighbors whined. The street was filled with ruckus and the mothers ran
towards the school to save their blood. None knew the heartless crime committed
by the terrorists. The school building
was nowhere to be seen. The pungent smell was hard to bear and the trash made
the walk difficult.
It left no trace of
life, a dead end, all would say. The world threw spits of curses on their fates
but I stayed silent. My mind flew to the places where I could meet her, touch
her again, carry her on my lap or see her sleep peacefully. Among the black
bricks and sticky cement, I did not try to find her out. She was gone, way
before I could try. She was transient, spilled colors at once and went away all
together.
I stayed there for hours or maybe days. People came to
rescue us from the curfew. It was then I went back home and could feel her
spirit embracing me. Her clothes, tiny shoes, dolls and bears staring at me,
waiting for an answer, waiting for her to come and play with them. But this time, I wished not to move them away,
they bore her smell, joy and touch, they were never meant to be washed away.
Days have passed, her laughter still rows with the hot
summer wind and her sweet baby scent doesn’t leave her abode.
