My father.......

They say life goes on. That you don't die when a close relative dies. What does that mean exactly? If it means that your spirit or soul doesn't leave your body, if it means that bodily functions continue, that you breathe and laugh and eat and sleep, if it means that emotions stay intact and senses are there for us to know and understand the world around us - Yes, then it's true.

One may not 'die' with another and be entombed in alabaster to actually feel the loss of self that I can only imagine one feels at the death of this body or the end of this temporal life. I am sure those who die are as alone and grieving and perhaps more so as the ones they leave behind because they have entered a new domain and that too solitary, they have embarked on an unknown journey leaving behind all what was familiar and relevant.

Death makes both the person who dies and the ones who stay behind irrelevant to each other and that is what pierces my heart and it feel like a sharp knife has been jabbed in my chest and someone is moving it around my heart. Physical and mental pain at times are very similar, they have the same kind of symptoms and perhaps a times same treatments.

What role if any does my father play in my life now? Please do not talk to me of fond memories and legendary legacies and the fact that he lived a good life and what not, for nothing, nothing, nothing consoles me. I want him back in my life, I want his presence in my presence, I want his words where my ears can pick his voice, I want his gaze to be directed towards me and I want his thoughts to be of me, of our life together.

We were quite young when our mother passed away, and it was abba who ruled our lives. He was the centre of gravity and our security blanket and I think as a single parent he managed it wonderfully, for more than close to 30 years after his wife's death, he played the role of a mother, father and a friend and played it almost to perfection. I know that he wasn't perfect and I especially had some difficult moments with him for I am quite a character myself, but he just proved to be most loving and giving man ever in my entire life.

My tirades against men - obviously rule him out of that category of 'typical Pakistani men' I do love to hate so much. For he raised me with confidence that I could do anything (and better) than any man alive :). He was always so concerned about small things in my life, in a way he was my 'significant other' my ultimate support system whom I could just lean on, and till the last day I did just that.....